RP:Crimson Snow

Part of the The Ice Plague Cometh Arc

Snowy Path

Victor walks down into the area from the east, his mind set on finding Satoshi but the stubborn human was cold and lost. He gets some blank scrolls out of his bag and arranges them on the floor, setting them on fire with a slow burning fire spell, simple and effective plus pretty harmless. he then sits down next to it and attempts to cook but it still is pretty freezing. The man has a mithril-chained clock wrapped around him with a shield strapped to his back that had strange runes, its round and made out of wood. His sword on his waist was barely visable but it is a true-steel gladius.

Daisy tugs a thick cloak tighter around her shoulders as she makes her way down the path that isn't really there. She doesn't know who left the footprints she is following, but she hopes they are leading her somewhere warm. She hopes they were left by someone friendly. Her ears perk up when the sounds of a fire reach them. Her tiny nose twitches from the smell of human, food, and fire. Cautious steps bring her closer, silently closer, to Victor.

Victor doesn't notice anything with the snow but he does know that his meat might actually be worth eating so he starts tearing chunks of it, while he does this he throws in some more blank scrolls to the fire which makes it get a bit bigger an more inviting. The human flinched every once in a while which would have his right hand quickly rush there holding his side. The man then opens his bag and it appears empty but still he pulls out of it some bread.

Daisy continues to move closer, keeping her movements silent and secret. She studies the man. His food. His burning scrolls. His flinching. Bright green eyes peek out from beneath a white hood as she determines if he is dangerous or not. Of course one can not tell simply by looking at a creature alone if they are dangerous. Better now than never, she supposes. There are always trees to climb if need be. Rather than calling out, she purposefully steps on a twig on the ground as she moves into view.

Victor upom hearing the twig snap span round his adrenaline rushing he pulls out his blade and drops the bread, Friend or foe speak now the man use to travelling but not in these parts was nervous and that was blatently obvious. His left hand however seems to be charging a fireball while in his right is his sword.

Daisy lowers her paws as she pads closer to the fire. Cautious eyes survey their surroundings as she accepts Victor's invitation. She puts the fire between them, just in case. "What is your name?"

Victor still trying to stay alert sits up properly, I am Victor, what brings you here the human grabs his bag and starts routing around in his bag for something, yet again it appears empty.

Satoshi's whiskers quiver, both from the delicate sniffing motions of her nose and with the sensations of nearby magic being detected on her return trip from the Frostmaw ruins. There is fire blooming in the land of ice and snow. Upon silent feet the foxkin treads atop the snowbanks and toward the source, leaving hardly a dent in her passing. Between the snowladen winds, her own frost-colored features, and the cloak of glacial mists gathered about her slim shoulders, Satoshi's vulpine form is heavily obscured to the point of seeming like a ghost flitting across of the snows, the amber flecks of her eyes glittering with keen interest as the only contrast. A hillock not far behind where the stranger resides is where the petite magus halts, content to silently observe what appears to be a pair of harmless travellers and their meager attempts to get warm. But she'll remain wary, with fire magicks in the air.

The silence that usually hangs over this barren part of the hunting grounds of the frozen kingdom of Frostmaw is split by a blood curling sound. From the east a symphany of howls proceeds the arrival of a raiding party of Exiled Frost Giants. The barbaric brutes are the lost souls who broke the laws of Frostmaw in some horrific manner one way or another, and total ten in number. With them is a pack of captured winter wolves, the native canine hunters of this frozen tundra, who while smaller than most other beasts that roam this forsaken land, are far larger than the average wolf. Snarling and jaws snapping in eager anticipation of the meal to come, these rabid beasts are half starved and in a frenzy. But just as this terrifying site can even process in ones mind, three wyverns come into site, these winged predators having been enslaved by the exiles and used as scouts and fodder by the exiles for many years. But, even in the face of such a site, the true horror lies in the presence of this warband's leader. Hrathgar Kinslayer, former General of the Frostmaw Legions years prior to Queen Satoshi's reign, and now ruler of the exile horde, marches ahead of his troop, the legendary greataxe of his already brought to bare and stained with the blood of fallen frost giant guards who were unlucky enough to come upon the advancing warparty. The fire set by Victor, and the smoke it gives off having drawn the raiding party down upon them. From underneath the aged and beaten warhelm he wears, Hrathgar points to both Daisy and Victor and calls out in the deep and resounding voice that he has, saying. " Leave nothing alive!" As these words leave the giant's parched lips, the two giant warrior who hold the reigns of the pack of winter wolves release the crazed beasts, who now charge forth with a ferocious hunger towards the pair. The speed of these animals is otherwordly, and the are upon the duo in a moments time, jaws agape as they seek to drive jagged fangs into the flesh of the unfortunate adventurers..."

Victor upon hearing the wolves went for his sword and runed-wooden round shield but by the time he had them the giants leader had shouted his order to kill, prepere yourself, stand and fight or flea his words aimed at daisy he would let her run and deal with it himself but for now he embraced himself holding his shield forward charging some mana into it making the runs glow and his shield becoming more reinforced to help so his shield can take more of a beating while tries to take any attacks coming for him with the shield while his gladius's blade burst into fire. His sword would be swung out as soon as the block worked or not, hoping to leave the winter wolves in of fire, blade and the humans quick reaction to battle.

Daisy is at her feet in an instant. Victor, the fire, and the oncoming army slow as her feline senses take in the situation. They're sure to die. She takes a breath and parts her stance. "I won't." Both paws are lifted and there is a shift in the snow directly in front of the wolves. Thick vines of sharp, thorny brush dart out of the ground to entrap those beasts. Paws are entangled, jaws are clamped shut from the razor sharp barbed wire vines. Each time one is snapped by the wolves, two more grow in its place, entangling them further.

Satoshi's attention snaps from the pair around the fire to the source of the howls. The patter of wolven paws on snow is a signal she's learned to let flow past her when delivered through her ties to the land, but the stomping of armored feet that join it create a melody unnatural and demanding of her focus. A mind as swift as her feet has Satoshi examining the information received from the frigid environment and promptly identifying it as a raiding party. Such things are common, certainly, but what alarms the kit is not just the size and mixture, but the -order-. This is no haphazard group out to pillage and kill, this is an organized band hellbent on bloody vengeance. "Hellfire and blizzards," the magus murmurs to herself, the words taking a lilting aspect as they meld with a string of lyrics that begins the weavings of a spell. Distant as she is from the scene along with the amount of area she intends to effect and the speed of the wolves, the incantation does not reach frutation until some of the pack have already reached the campsite and its defenders. Those not in the lupine vanguard and facing off with the unknown pair, however, will find the snows beneath their paws suddenly snapping tight like so many shackles and spring-loaded traps around them. A violent means to ending a headlong charge, meant to shatter legs aplenty, viciously halt momentum, and render the majority of beasts immobile within a wide sphere of thick ice--trapped like so many wayward ducks upon a Winter kissed lake.

Firewing flaps his wings high above the snowy grounds with Jextar clinging tightly onto his back. He grumbles as he looks up at Jextar before looking down at the battle. He smiles slightly as he spies them. "Oh, good...a fresh meal..." He says in his deep, guttural dragon's voice. Spying the wolves below him, he smiles happily as he takes a deep breath in and launches a Fireball down, to at least send one or two of them scattering. The Fireball crashes into the snow, sending melted water and just-melting snow everywhere. Now noticed, the wyverns head straight towards the two of them. Firewing smiles as he hears their cries. "Ah, Wyvern! Haven't had that in a while!" he says as he flaps towards them, charging up more Fireballs in his slightly-glowing-orange throat.

Jextar sings a song of lightning and, chanting it again and again he mixes in the song of fire and sends a mixture of fire and lightning at the wyverns hoping to kill one. The mixture hits the air in front of the wyvern and explodes, knocking them out of the sky.

Two wolves fall in a bloody display of carnage as Satoshi's spell comes into fruitation, their legs being ripped off and sending the crazed beasts hurtling through the snow yelping an unbearable cry of pain as death descends upon them. One wolf, the alpha of the group, comes down upon Victor just as the man's shield becomes reinforced by his spellweaving. The wolf's tremendous frame crashes against the magical shield as Victor swings his flaming blade, magial metal meets toughed flesh as the sword cuts the side of the wolf, but the alpha does not stop. Razor sharp claws are sent forth in a flurry of cunning blows, followed up by a calculated snap of elongated fangs towards Victor's right shoulder. Daisy is almost saved by Firewing's intervention, as the fireball takes care of the dying wolves, and hits another, disinergrating the beast into nothing but ash. But one evades the flaming inferno, and lunges forth towards the feline in hopes of finding its first meal in days. The wyverns, numbering three total, break off from one another, having tangled with dragons before, these predators of the air try to take dragon and rider on by attacking from multiple angles using claws, jaws and the barbed tails to do as much damage as possible, If one is to be hit by the barbed tail spike, they will be infected by a poison that acts much like frostbite, numbing the flesh and causing discoloration and a deep chilling sensation, making limbs and the like almost useless. Instead of rushing forth like fools, the nine elite warriors chosen by Hrathgar close in on their leader, and form a defensive parimeter, while Hrathergar, the Fallen General, watches what forces now descend upon his raiding party and studies his opponents.

Victor holds his ground as wolf and human clash, if anyone could see his face they would see him smiling. The thirst for battle coming over him as the claws come at him and with shield he blocks one, two but a third knocks the shield out his hand sending the spellblade off balance but as the alpha nearly clamps into his shoulder he sticks out a boot to right kick the animal in the chest while using his left hand in a fist to come down and strike the wolf on the head after the boot. The smell of blood filling the air as the wolf's fang will at least manage to get near and do some damage, at least ripping open a wound in his shoulder being he only has leather armour on and his mithril cloak flows behind him.

The other wolf left alive lunges forth to feast upon Daisy with a ravenous hunger, its eyes filled with an insatiable desire to kill the druid, its jaw agape as thick saliva falls to the snow covered ground as the beast nears. But just as the wolf nears its prey, a wave of flames as white as the snow washes over both Daisy and the rabid predator. The flames will feel warm, calming and simply pass over Daisy, who is pure of heart. If one looked hard enough, they would see the figure of a beautiful woman standing behind Daisy now, her hand upon the feline's shoulder as if she was protecting her. The wolf on the otherhand, whoe has become lost in hatred, feels the full force of the flames of retribution. The beast's form is ravaged by the wrath of Cyris, the canine howling in pain before falling to the ground only a foot or so away from Daisy. Unlike the dragonfire that was unleashed by Firewing moment's prior, the wolf is not just a stain of ashes upon the snowy landscape, but rather the beast just falls dead, its soul purified by the divine flames cast down upon it by Satoshi's chosen Justice, Redovian, who seems to simply appear standing beside Daisy, his katana, the blessed blade known as Tenbatsu Kaji, drawn and held is a loose defensive manner. The paladin's hoari whips behind him, the emblem of Frostmaw easily seen by all present. The paladin's nightblue eyes stare across the battlefield straight towards Hrathgar, no emotion shown upon the man's face, though Hrathgar stares back with his one eye, as the other was lost in battle with the paladin months before. It seems destiny has brought these two warriors before one another once again..

Daisy readies herself to be eaten. It has been a good life. An eventful life. There is so much she had intended to accomplish. But all that will have to carry on without her. She doesn't back from the wolf's approach. A single paw dives into her bag, producing a large-headed, purple flower. Just as she is about to shove the plant into the beast's mouth, that white flame warms her. Startled, she takes a step back and just watches the wolf fall to the ground. Emerald eyes lift to see the man she saw twice before, but never spoke to. She says nothing, because words of thanks can be said at a more appropriate time. Instead, she carves a small hole into the bud of her weapon, and waits for another attack.

Satoshi continues to stand sentinel upon the snowy hill overseeing the bloodied scene, allowing her form to be relatively lost to sight beneath writhing cloak and the background of Frostmaw's frost-bound trees. From this position the kit can swiftly turn her attention from one aspect of the battle to another, calculating, thinking, and spell-weaving. The spell is subtle at first, no more than a simple chill that emanates from the pool of ice that sealed the fate of two wolves. But swiftly does the chill deepen as it seeps through the snows, spreading with almost tangible purpose toward the nearest pair of Hrathgar's behemoth companions. With so many ethereal tendrils does the icy essence take hold of the giants' feet, likely hardly felt through armor and Winter-toughened skin, but that is Satoshi's intention as she endeavors to burrow her magicks beneath their flesh like a swarm of frigid, parasitic worms, to soak it into their very blood, until the muscles of their legs are enshrouded with the unnatural cold. By then, even a frost giant is likely to take heed to their legs feeling suddenly numb and heavy, as knees threaten to buckle beneath the enormous weight of their bodies and armor. By then, it very well may be too late, for with further song does Satoshi's magic strive to progress throughout their bodies, and if left unhalted, it aims to overtake their entire form and pass over control of their frozen limbs to the icy pied piper of a vixen. Success will result in the two giants being turned against their nearest companions in a violent attack. Interruption will result in Satoshi viciously ripping her magic from their bodies in the form of countless icy shards, veritably shredding veins and muscles to rapidly exsanguinate them both.

Firewing quickly flaps his wings as he looks at two of the wyverns to his left. He doesn't know where the third Wyvern's gone to, but he knows to try and take care of these two. He takes a deep breath in as his throat glows orange, and breathes out a large, steady stream of fire, hoping to get at least one wing out of both of the wyverns. After breathing the stream of fire, out of the corner of his eye, a quick movement is flown in the air as he spies the third. Fire calls out to Jextar on his back. "Jextar! Right Flank!"

Jextar points at the wyvern and sings a song of lightning. The lightning charges on his fingertip and discharges heading for the wyverns eye. "Firewing. We need to get higher up. Now! It's the only way I can effectively use the lightning more powerfully. I need to use the clouds." He sends a fire ball to the exact location that he needs to be at. "Right there." He zaps a bolt of lightning at the fireball causing a large flash to hopefully distract the wyverns. "Go!"

The alpha, the last to survive of the winter wolf pack, continues his advance upon Victor with wreckless abandon, the hunger haven driven the mighty beast mad. Again and again it pursues the human, its jaws snapping, its claws sweeping out with surprising strength to tear flesh from bone. In the sky, one wyvern falls to the torrent of flame unleashed by Firewing, though the other evades a flame ridden death by swirling about the air to try to catch the dragon from below, its barbed tail sent forth towards the wyrms underbelly. Jextar's distraction is unsuccessful, and the wyvern he shot his lightning towards is knicked by the spell, but recovers quickly enough to dive towards the bardic spellweaver, its taloned claws extended out towards the mounted hero in hopes of tearing into his upper body. Hrathgar looks out across this battlefield towards Redovian, his anger incarnated within the vicious roar of hatred he bellows out as he orders his men to charge forth! But as seven frost giants head out to slaughter and maim, two twitch and stumble forth before suddenly going idle. Hrathgar does not notice this as he rushes forth to meet Redovian, the tremendous warrior's actions fueled by wrath and malice as he goes to meet the man who eluded him once before and took his eye...

Victor throws himself backwards on the snow to give him chance to breathe but the alpha is already on him trying to tear him to shreds with claw and fang, the human brings his gladius up with his wounded right shoulder and lets the waight of the blade o most of the work to swing at the wolf while his left arm blocked and took damage when claws hit it slicing through a lot of his arm. The human hopes that if the alpha bites his arm and takes the bait that he'll be able to bring the sword back at it again to hit for another time with the muttering of words would make his blade brighter an the flames on it more intense as he use the pain to fuel his attack.

Redovian watches as the battle unfolds, and calls over his shoulder to the druid feline. " Go back to Frostmaw and alert the guard, you are no longer needed here, and may be of use healing the wounded." His voice is calm, practically reassuring with how much confidence comes through. As The first of the frost giants come upon the group, Redovian acts. What to most will seem as a blink of an eye, the paladin crosses a great distance to stand behind one of the warriors, his sword raised up and held in place. If one was keen of eye, they would see a trail of blood on the otherwise prestine blade fall to the snow covered ground. The giant's halt at such a display, before they watch as the lead giant suddenly erupts in a horrid display of gore and blood, and falls lifeless behind Redovian. The paladin lowers his blade ever so slightly, causing the advancing giants to assume another defensive formation, and says. " I will cut each of you down before you land a single blow, for I shall not let lives the enemies of frostmaw." buying the others a few precious moments to breath and possibly recover before the real fight begins..

Daisy seals the flower with a thumb as she tucks it back into the bag. She nods to the paladin with backwards steps. "I will be fast." She turns and falls to all fours before darting into the treeline for help.

Satoshi permits a feral smirk to flit across her features as she feels the web of magic take hold of the pair of giants, and witnesses the rage with which Hrathgar greets Redovian's fiery appearance. The paladin's presence on the ground is as much a solace as Firewing and Jextar's are in the air, securities against the kit having to face such a group alone--or rather, with two unknown strangers. As the rest of the frost giant group thunder past to converge on the sword-toting paladin, the two bewitched ones sway momentarily before jerkily coming to life, joints crackling as they heft their weapons--a chipped battleaxe and rusty war hammer, respectively. With their own roars--half-strangled cries forced out from frozen throats--the puppeted duo lash out at the backs of their distracted former companions, Satoshi's magic and their natural strength coupled to produce a monstrous force determined to cleave through one raider's spine and crush another's helmeted skull like a rotten fruit. Struggle as the commandeered giants might, the cryomancer's magic has fully infiltrated their limbs so that they are forced to surge forward into their own numbers, hacking down and crushing any of the group that oppose them. The pair cannot continue forever, however, for with every attempt they make to resist the commands of Satoshi's spell, the ice within their bloodstream cuts into veins and muscle alike to slowly begin shredding their innards. In time they will bleed out, even if Hrathgar's men do not rally and cut them down first. But Satoshi hardly cares, for either way she's eliminated at least two of the raiding party's numbers without having to directly enter the fray herself. "Ever played chess this bloody, Aer~?" she trills in quiet remark to the ermine ever present upon her shoulder.

Firewing looks at the wyrm who flies below him and snarls as he turns towards the one headed to the Rider upon his back. He quickly raises his right wing to protect his rider, as one claw scratches the leather, if only very slightly, but the poison has already entered his system. He winces in pain as hs tries to flap upward, but the poison acts fast, turning Firewing's right wing cold, and giving it a light purplish color. He tries to fly upward, but just barely manages to flap it up, as it slowly begins to freeze in its stretched out position. He breathes in again, getting ready to blow more fire on the wyvern that attacked his wing. As he breathes, the fire doesn't exactly head forward in a stream, but concentrates into a large, ball of fire, which then heads straight down, hoping to hit the wyvern that tried to save it's brethren, or if missing that creature, at least hitting one of the Frost Giants. Fire looks at Jextar and smiles, chuckling slightly. "Sorry...but, it looks like you're on your own...I can only glide from here..." he says, as he stops flapping, letting his wings glide around in a circle as he slowly descends, not able to fly any higher.

The alpha, the largest, most vicious of the pack, and a true example of the terrors that await unprepared adventurer in the unforgiving tundra that is Frostmaw, leaps back just in time to avoid the thrust of the human's blade. Suddenly the mighty animal seems to calm itself. An intelligence can be seen within the canine's eyes as it begins to circle its prey, sizing up the spellblade as well as any seasoned warrior would, looking for openings, weaknesses and a chance to sink its fangs deep into the tender flesh it so craves. The light of Victor's blade causes a moment's hesitation, but this predator is not unfamiliar with the dangerous element of fire, as the exiles use it often to torture the beasts they capture into submission. Moments pass with the wolf simply examining its soon to be meal, before the male's powerful hind legs spring it forth with alarming speed for a creature of its size, a flurry of snow sent forth by such an act, which could possibly blind Victor momentarily, and create an opening for the wolf, who tries to tackle its prey to the frigid ground beneath, and drive its elongated fangs deep into Victor's collarbone with enough force to snuff the life out of a full grown frostmaw. SHould Victor not be quick, a fatal blow could land, and the poor man will find himself the meal to this starved and wild pack leader..

Victor prepered himself as the beast circles him, his left arm bleeding still from the attack and not being able to carry much so he decided not to go for his shield that still lay on the floor instead he would quickly burn the wounds with his flamed sword and with that a grunt of pain there was more to it but he didn't let it show. The human span his sword round his right hand getting ready for a attack, for anything. But he didn't expect the snow that covers his view throwing him off focus and as he felt the wolf go to tackle him he painfully uses both hands to lounge his gladius forward towards the great beasts head while letting his pain out in the strike. As he did this words could be heard through the wind of him enchanted with that it seemed that the winds around victor picked up and began freezing his armour which made as strong as steel just not for long, the problem with being a norvice with magic is that it was also as heavy while it lasted, his mana reserves now near depleted he would now keep to the basic of melee that he knew.

Jextar said to Firewing, "Throw me at them. I have an idea." Climbs to the back of Firewing's tail taking his longsword out and getting ready to be sent towards one of the Wyverns so he can take it down. "Trust me. I know this will work." He smiles. "I'll handle your injuries after the battle. Just get safely to the ground."

Dyzz :: The wyverns were experienced hunters, with a pack mentality, and once they sought blood, their vicious streaks usually ended in a meal. The not so small victory of crippling the great red dragon's right wing brought out shrieks of exaltation, even as the ensuing gout of flame brought hisses of terror. While the Wyvern who got the bite in on Firewing managed to roll aside from the flames easily, the other one was far less fortunate, unable to clear the ball of fire in time, and sent spinning as it clipped it, searing well over half it's body and continuing past with it's momentum... to whatever other unfortunates might be in the path of the flame. The first Wyvern, more concerned with the kill than the fate of it's comrade, didn't even turn his head to watch the path of the fireball, and instead renewed it's vigorous assault upon Firewing... perhaps not even taking note of it's comrades cries of pain. It may be a sore surprise should the wyvern continue the fight not knowing it was alone in this now, but for the now, the wyvern had the advantage of aerial mobility, and used this advantage to come atop Firewing and dive upon him, ripping and tearing and trying to close jaws upon his throat.

Firewing looks behind him at Jextar and smiles as he nods, letting his tail stretch out a little bit as he prepares to launch him. He aims towards the wyvern that attacked him and now tries to come again with even more ferocity. Eyeing him with crimson fire, he launches Jextar forward, the man flying through the air as Firewing sighs, slowly getting closer to the ground. He chuckles as he closes his eyes, turning away from Jextar. "Good luck!..." he shouts back to him. As he veers away from the battle, heading towards a clearing that's out of sight from the small road, but able to be seen from the air, he begins to fall faster, his right wing slowly failing. "You'll need it..."

Jextar flies through the air straight toward the attacking wyvern, his blade in the position to stab right into the scaly back of the creature. Closing the gap he enchants the blade with a single word. In the elvish tongue he says the word "Rip." The blade vibrates and pulsates with magic energy, draining almost everything from Jextar. He cries out a battle cry as he comes within 20 feet of the beast. The blade coming ever closer to the target.

Satoshi does not falter from her position, effectively frozen into place not from the ice and chill, but by the immense concentration needed to keep tabs on the various small skirmishes while pulling the strings needed to keep her pair of giants in the fight. The larger of the two--the axe-wielding fellow--is not fairing as well as his comrade, having suffered the loss of an arm, sheared off at the elbow by a well-aimed swipe from a raider's notched blade. Gruesome the wound may be, but little blood spills from it aside from thick, crystallized globs of the frozen substance that patter to the ground with faint thuds. While the battered giant trudges on--against his will and do the detriment of his body--his companion follows suit, striking out haphazardly with his warhammer at any available joint or surface of armor the raiding party offers to his formidable reach. Satoshi's pair are at a disadvantage in both numbers and lack of weapon finesse, for the kit's knowledge is meager on how best to fight with axe or hammer, but she makes up for it by controlling two behemoth bodies that won't drop from such simple wounds as a lost limb or two, as magic does not feel pain and thus will not stop until instructed to.

Kasyr , as an individual, is not particularly important to this shindig. This is mostly due to the fact that the Revenant is currently leaning up against the entrance to the city proper, with a sheathed blade in his left hand, and a bottle of bloodwine in his right. Clearly, he's somehow become aware of the events occuring- though deemed his presence unnecessary, beyond ensuring that there is not a secondary party endeavouring to infiltrate in for nefarious purposes. But really- that's neither here, nor there. During these particular moments, it is Hrathgar and his actions which are truly important. Confronted with that particularily violent bout of 'treason' suddenly committed by two of his entourage, the Exile commander is spurred into action- an odium filled battle cry emanating from his gullet as he surges forth towards his former compatriots. Whilst the din produced by that display serves well enough to alert Satoshis puppets as to his decision to directly involve himself- it avails to little more than that. After all, in spite of both age, and the hindrances posed by the heavy armour he sports, the battle hardened warrior is still more than capable of closing the distance between himself and his targets- the forward momentum he's generated used to help swing his axe upwards in an effort to hew through armour. flesh and bone- specifically, in the region near his groin- so as to shred through his leg and rob him of his equilibrium, whilst also tearing into his femoral artery. The momentum carried within this monstrous upswing is then promptly converted by means of a swift pivot, meant to twist Hrathgars body in place- and slam the great axe he wields neatly into the shoulder of the remaining traitors weapon bearing arm - enough force carried within the blow to hopefully sever the Giantss arm- or at least force him down to his knees. Either outcome is sufficient, really- as he immediately follows it up with a violent slam of his palm into the 'fallen' exiles face, clenching with enough ferocity to dig mailed fingers into flesh. "Kill him, or die trying." The words carry a black malice to them, quite akin to the dark energy which beguns to form around Hrathgars hand- leeching the life from the exile within his grasp.

Dyzz :: The remaining wyvern had thought to shoot for the red dragon, but found that instead the pesky rider shot straight for him... he was flung, as it where... and he was well aimed at that. Caught by surprise, the wyvern didn't even manage any semblance of evasion, and jerked under the weight of the had-been-rider as his pointy metal stick struck home, planting into the back of the shrieking beast, and sending the surprised creature and it's assailant crashing towards the ground. The blade had nearly struck spine, so close was it to the center of the wyvern's back, and had at the least lodged itsself in between ribs. A kidney or the liver might have have been shredded, as well. The damage was enough to cripple, and the angry and wounded wyvern flipped and thrashed, trying to get a hold of Jaxter with claws, thorns or fangs, anything before they hit dirt.

Delain had recently come to the frozen city on the hint that there would be an adventure to be had. He didn't think that a battle of this size would come into play in his journey. The solid opalescent violet of his hues gazed upon the scene. He was surprised to say the least, disbelief becoming more prominant on his features than anything else. Fingers twitched, hands going for his saber and dagger. However so it took a bit of restraint to stop himself. This wasn't his land and he was merely a wanderer passing through. It wasn't his place to interfere in another's fight. Sadly the creatures they were battling would be odds he would usually get in on, but not this time. "Well then.." he muttered to himself, voice like gravel from both age and all the use back in earlier times. Two ruined wings spanned a good ten feet outwards from his body, the limbs long since useless to him, but he kept them as a token of his past. His body was covered in rags mostly, but a few pieces of armor were present, a bracer, some chainmail, even a plate for his chest. The draconian wasn't sure if he had been noticed as of yet, the high elven features esily perceptible among his other facial details. Up close one would see the leathery skin that was the inheritance from his dragonic ancestry. A long tail swept around his own legs, curled against his feet as he merely watched for now, surveying the progression of the battle, measuring out the skill of each competitor.

Redovian is lost within the seductive dance of mortal conflict by this point, Frostmaw's Justice and Chosen Paladin of Cyris unaware of the various other battles going on about him, as yet another one of Hrathgar's vanguard lunges forth with a calculated blow with his warhammer, the massive bludgeon sent forth to destroy the human with the fabled strength of giant kind. Tenbatsu Kaji, the divine blade of holy retribution, is brought to bare once more in responce to this newest threat. Looking to the barreling brute, Redovian drops his hand down to grasp the black hilt of another Katana, Ror'Rih, and moments before the warhammer wielding behamoth is upon him, the divine warrior draws forth the blade of malice in one smooth and practiced draw, the dark blade's powerful elemental enchantments erupting forth as the paladin swings the blade in a wide arch, sending forth a wave of black ice to meet the unkept warhammer in a clash of elemental magic and raw barbaric rage. The clash seemingly shatters the ice into miniscule shards, the warhammer sinking int the deep snow before Redovian as icy shards shower around both combatants. The giant speaks out as he raises back up, saying. " Ya be needin' more than that, boy, to stand against a giant!" And raises his mighty hammer up to deliver another stunning blow. But Redovian stands there, seemingly unfazed by such a display of physical strength, and raises his free hand up, before clenching his fist tight. Jagged spikes of black ice form with alarming speed, as if out of thin air, to penetrate the ragged armor of the barbaric warrior, and impale the giant's body in various vital places about his tremendous frame. Blood gushes forth from deep wounds, the giant's eyes going wide in shock before Redovian unclenches his fist, and causes the spikes to explode, sending bits of ice, blood and various body parts flying in all directions about the battlefield. The only thing that remains of the warhammer wielding giant is his feet and weapon, which falls before paladin, who lowers his blades and assumes a relaxed position, as if awaiting the next of Hrathgar's vanguard to make a move. Tenbatsu Kaji, the divine blade, burns with holy fire, while Ror'Rih gleams with unnatural power, awaiting to unleash the wrath of Frostmaw upon its next victem...

Jextar as the blade plunges into the back of the wyvern he calls his eagle to his side. Allowing the eagle to hold on to his mail he jumps off of the wyvern propelling it faster towards the ground. He falls at a much slower rate than the wyvern as the eagle struggles to slow his descent to a less lethal speed. He sings a song of air, creating a pocket to slow him down more and take the stress off of Harmony. Now nearing the ground Harmony allows him to fall the last few feet.

Dyzz :: Unable to land a decisive blow upon his adversary, he finds the assailant gone almost as quickly as he had latched on, and the wyvern hits th ground hard, creating an explosion of snow from the point of impact. Some several hundred pounds of flesh hitting the ground can be an impressive sight. The wyvern will have many painful hours to crawl about and thrash and bleed internally before it dies, but who knows, it could even survive this battle. Now fully focused on trying to survive, the creature does it's best to limp away, leaving behind its' half baked comrade.

Satoshi bares her teeth in silent annoyance at the rapid assault on her puppets--even if Redovian's onslaught is encouraging. Distance and their damaged limbs force a delay on bringing the foxkin's magic around to respond swiftly, a fact that results in Hrathgar's complete success at cleaving the leg off Mr. Warhammer. A sluggish gout of blood and a muffle bellow of pain follow as the giant topples over under his own weight, left in the snow while the ex-general moves on to the second 'traitor'. By the time Hrathgar has pivoted around, Satoshi's had time to work her magic, driving the ice that's infested her giant's bloodsystem to solidify to an unnatural hardness. Coupled with the giant's own ragged armor, Hrathgar's weapon does not find purchase but is instead sent skittering violently upward, his own deflected momentum likely enough to wrench his axe from his hands or set himself offbalance. The struck giant, instead of losing an arm or being dropped to his knees, is knocked reeling backwards and out of the leader's grasping reach. Once balance is regain, the axe-wielder charges right back at Hrathgar, blade screeching as it's swung with murderous force at the leader's side with all the intention of cleaving him clean in two. It's at this point that the kit smirks with silent pleasure. She'd hazard a guess none are yet aware she is the source of the supposed betrayal of Hrathgar's men, and so she's fairly certain Hrathgar believes the first of her giants is quite dead and thus written out of his mind while he focuses upon the obviously living member of the pair. And that's exactly why she's flooding the arcane tie between herself and Mr. Warhammer to force dead limbs back into mobility, hijacking the frozen blood to give false-life and bring him once more upon his feet to loom over the ex-general with hammer raised. In a land where necromancy is rare despite plentiful wars, how often has this battle-savvy warlord had one of his slain opponents rise up behind him to deliver vengeance from beyond the grave? Satoshi is willing to bet the occurrence is uncommon enough that he won't be paying much attention to what lurks behind him... as mere seconds after the charging axe swing comes, the hammers fall, the hefty weapon driven with the force of frost giant muscle, cryomancer magic, and simple gravity in a downward plunge toward Hrathgar's helmeted skull.

Jextar having watched the wyvern fall to the ground he walks to the area it landed. Sheathing his blade and exchanging it for his harmonica he plays a song which causes the land around the wyvern to start to shake and boil acting as a cauldron during an earthquake. The point of this was to bake the wyvern alive.

The alpha is caught off guard by the magic cast by Victor, and finds its jaws hitting hardened ice, and a flaming blade driven into its skull. The mighty beasts life is gone just that quick, blood running down upon the spellblade, the dead weight of the massive canine now threatening to crush the poor man if he cannot escape soon enough...

Dyzz :: Many people would oo and awe at the spectactle of a thrashing wyvern being boiled alive in a shaking, boiling tumult in the middle of the coldest snows in the north... but with the wind blowing in just the right direction, the smell of cooking meat approaching just the right tenderness might very well serve to make the warriors nearbye cease their warrior like activities in favor of searching for a good steak sauce... or at the very least, distract them a bit and make their bellies growl. The Wyvern seemed to be approaching a fate of medium-rare.

Delain was not a youthful man in human years, but in his own lifescale he had time on his side. The sight of the fallen wyvern was encouragement enough. Battle was something that he had a good share of, his wings were a testament to that fact. He was charging, clawed feet diggin into the snow to propel him forward. It was only a few hundred feet away. Across the battlefield he strode, that air of unerring confidence swirling around him while his wings were flags, billowing behind him as what little torn flesh clung desperately to the bone. He right hand slipped into one of the pouches he had and gripped a pinch of what little remained of his omnispell dust. He lightly pressed it into a petal of one of the black roses tied to his waist with twine. A quick incantation later and he crushed it in his hands. Green energy enveloped his fist and he pressed his now glowing palm to the ground. The magic surged across the snow in the direction of the fleeing wyvern, moving to wrap around the appendages. Whether successful or not the magic would transform into roots, not quite as strong as they would be in a forest, but roots all the same. After the spell was complete, should nothing break his focus, he launched forward, gripping his mace, heading towards the creature to finish the job. The distance closed rapidly between him and his target when he leaped into the air, hopefully unsuspected and brought down the spiked mace towards the wyvern's (dyzz) head.

Dyzz :: and thus, the wyvern was served well done, tied and presentable as gourmet, with a side of Delain.

Delain had not excpected the bard, due to his concentration being on keeping his spell alive. However when he found his feet begin to burn he ripped free his mace of the wyvern's head. The sick 'shlunk' sound of a weapon being pulled free from the dead beast echoed in his ears, a bit of remains still attached to the spikes of his weapon. He hooked his hand in the wound, not caring that his hand was buried in the brains of the kill and dragged him away, moving off the hot spot to the cool snows where he could take on his injuries. The burning was painfully agonizing, but he was biting his tongue over letting others know his pain. From there he unstrung a dagger and began to skin the wyvern for its scales, plucking them individually from the corpse. If it had horns he would break them off, smash teeth and take the fragments. He even went so far as to cut away the claws and tail.

Jextar finds the half dead wyvern and, while walking up to it sings a spell song of electrocution. Aiming the spell at the wyvern he releases the magic sending a powerful bolt of lightning at the wyvern.

Hrathgar does in fact find himself disarmed due to the unforunate bit of snowy shenanigans (Well, more icy than anything, but that's besides the point). By the time the axe plops into the snow behind himself, the giants' expression has fully degraded into a hateful sneer- the hand which had been outstretched due to his failed attempt at grabbing his foe now simply clenching tightly. Weaponless, and now faced with the advancement of the axe bearing giant, he does the first thing which occurs to him: He hurls himself towards his puppeted adversary. Though that daring manuever sends him hurtling past the -brunt- of the attacking Giants strike, he does not escape it entirely, the axes edge still tearing into the frosty plate mail he's encased in, with such force that it carves into flesh and knocks Hrathgar somewhat offtarget. Thankfully for the exile commander, off target simply means that his head on tackle is instead redirected to the puppets shoulder- Something which in tandem with the exile commanders endeavour to grapple onto his foe and drag him to the ground, by virtue of momentum and weight, should serve its purpose adequately enough. Suffice to say, not a moment is spared to immediately press his hands onto any bit of exposed flesh that he can- intent upon using the full scale of the abilities granted to him as one of Vakmatharas' death knights to promptly siphon every ounce of vital energy out from the offending giants body- and effectively reduce him to a brittle husk. It could almost be considered a serendipitous action on his part- were it not for the fact that whatever vitality and strength he manages to siphon from his former subordinate- it still does very little to alert him as to the subtle crunching of snow off to his side. A noise that is wholly undistinguishable amidst the chaos, is serves as a herald to the bone shattering amount of force that partially caves in the back of his skull, settling his helmet askew. With naught but an indistinguishable, gurgling curse- his body simply sinks to the ground atop the other giants.

Victor slams his sword into the great beasts skull with a smile of relief but then a look of shock as the winter-wolf Alpha began to fall on him while his magic was failing, the frost around his armour began to fall of as its magic couldn't keep it up anymore. So with that he made a half attempt to save his life by jumping to his side and landing on the cold floor with snow falling around him, he was cold, his left arm now not being supported by the frost armour started to bleed again as his burning of the arm wasn't the greatest medical wonder. The savant felt faint as the wolf hit the floor, he couldn't believe he won but the sound of battle he could hear still and it was all around him. With more effort and pain the young spellblade had ever felt he managed to rise to his feet with his sword in his right hand, he took a few steps foward before falling to his knee's and throwing his sword into the alpha because that was his prize. Truly though he couldn't carry on and it could be seen as it was the closest thing to a war he had been in, his face slowly turned pale as he beat himself up within his thoughts hating the fact he couldn't continue and with utter shame in his voice, Am sorry... Am to wounded... I tried at least but realising the one he tried to protect daisy was gone made him feel a little better even though Redovian battled the great giants he layed down while his blood froze over and his left arm now looking frozen and dead not being able to move being to beaten and exhausted but he prayed to anyone who listen that Redovian would win, he had to also there was the winds and the snow that seemed to aid them but for once he knew what true fear was also what it was like to face such a force of enemies. At least he lived but the shame of having to leave Redovian to face the others while he layed there was gonna haunt him, the fact he was to weak to carry on but what he didn't know is he did pretty good for rookie.

Delain took the spoils quickly and retreated when he had the chance, not wanting to be caught in the battle with the greater beast. The only reason he charged in at this moment was to finish off the cowardly wyvern that began to ran instead of fighting to its last breath. He had several teeth, claws and scales strung up around his waist with twine. He had the barb of the tail as well, not yet knowing what he would do with it. The draconian walked on, the soothing cold of the snows combatting the sting of the burns on his feet.

Dyzz :: The wyvern baked by firewing's patent pending fireball needed a good poultice to cover it's many horrific burns. Honestly, there would probably be a lot of terrible scarring. He may look better by leaving the poultice on, and trying to sell himself as original recipe. His friend had just been broiled, bashed, and decapitated, but with his back to the battle and the smell of his own fry cooking flesh filling his nostrils, the wyvern was much too busy to give it much thought. Like the other one that most definitely did not make it, he tried, probably in utter futility, to crawl away from the battle with his life.

Redovian is a blur of motion and calculated blows as the paladin decides that standing idle is no longer the course of action he wishes to take. Duel katanas of opposite alignments are brought forth is an impressive display of martial prowess upon the first giant to be targeted by Frostmaw's Chosen Justice. Tenbatsu Kaji is driven into the sternum of the sword carrying barbarian, divine flames consuming the giant's armoured covered frame and smiting him with the wrath of a God of the Light. The screams of the vile and murderous brute are lost upon the paladin, who does not stop in this elegant dance of death and continues on to meet the last of Hrathgar's vanguard, Ror'Rih's dark blade gleaming in eager anticipation of the carnage to come. The giant is seemingly overwhelmed by the power brought against this seemingly outgunned raiding party, and reverts to the basic of his barbaric warrior instincts. Smash the hell outa it. The axe comes down in a flurry of blows, that Redovian dodges time and time again. The blessings bestowed upon him by the Ascendi Kanos allowing him to slow down time to some small degree in a limited way for only a short amount of time. But every second is precious when a frost giant's axe is sent forth to cleave you in twine. But only moments after the last of the exiled warriors goes into his frenzied rage filled frenzy, does Redovian unleash the malice of his malign blade once more, the man pivoting upon his heel, and slashing the exposed achilies tendon, toppling the mighty warrior to the ground, before the paladin spins about and drive both of his blades deep into the giants back. The flames consume the giant once more, before the ice creates an enclosed prison for the damned warrior, sealing him in a tomb of eternal punishment as the never ending flames of holy retribution ravage the giant's tremendous frame with unimaginable pain, his screams unable to be heard from within the semi-transparent tomb that will now act as his prison for all of time. A fitting warning to any who dare try to take a stand against the might that is frostmaw.

Satoshi, with Hrathgar's collapse, deems now a suitable time to pay heed to the strangers she'd spotted fighting against the raiding party. Redovian, of course, she knows, and entrusts the fate of the remaining raiders to his blade's bite. Jextar she likewise knows, albeit through a single meeting and his alliance with the dragon Firewing. It's the other two she whose signatures she does not recognize when the snow sings the patterns of their footfalls to her. A string of faint lyrics escapes the foxkin then, a quiet command that calls the magic back from her decimated giants, a weaving of the arcane guided into the snow near the dead wolves where it can take new shape. From the blood-stained frost where the alpha lies dead rises a hulking figure, slowly and steadily constructing the gorilla-esque, icy form of Satoshi's steadfast golem, aptly named Buster. With surprisingly deftness from hands so broad and rough-hewn, the golem reaches toward Victor's fallen form, intending upon lifting the man gently and carefully--as much to avoid injuring a potential valuable ally as to silently project the fact that this creature is not another enemy here to kill the spell blade. Duty bound to obey Satoshi's silent directives, Buster aims merely to pull Victor from the crimson snows and carry him away from the immediate battlefield so that Satoshi can speak with him afterwards. If she's lucky, the golem's presence might draw the eye of that other, golden-haired stranger, so that Lady Frostmaw can have them both gathered in the same spot to present royal thanks for unexpected aid. What exactly becomes of events with them the kit does not readily notice once the golem is called into existence and given his order, as something among the giants--dead and living--has draw her focus, and set her fur on end with unease...

Victor still awake but still not moving allows himself to be picked up by the golem with one simple request, My sword... Shield... My wolf the man meaning his sword that was stuck in the dead wolf to claim it as his and his shield which was somewhere within the snow, the golem hadn't caused him harm and he took that as him trying to aid him if he wasn't then Victor was royally screwed but later once he was rested he will be shocked that a golem had picked him up. He did however say again, Definatly the wolf he knew what he was gonna do with such a great beast, he would make armour out of the it some how.

Dyzz :: The headless body of the half baked wyvern stumbles around aimlessly for a few seconds, tongue wagging freely in the air as blood pumps steadily from the stump of it's neck, before it falls over into the snow, a well-done counterpart to it's medium-rare compatriot.

Delain does now indeed catch sight of the rest of what is going on, seeing the golem but not taking any interest in it. He, being a wanderer, had no intention on helping either side. It was only the fact that the creature had dared to run that he sprang into action. The spoils of the kill were merely a bonus he felt he was entitled to being that it was his weapon that fell it. So he believed atleast. The male would continue along his way unhindered as long as his path wasn't prevented.

Kasyr , despite the fact that he's busy being a relatively pointless Cameo (in the sense that he's lounging at the city entrance and drinking), is also stricken by the uneasy feeling that is consuming Satoshi. The difference is, the feeling is a fair bit more familiar to the kensai, due to his many forays into matters of an infernal nature. It's for this reason that his lackadaisical demeanour is discarded- if only so that he can begin to make his way towards the conflict zone. || Not that the kensai is particularily apt to arrive in time, all considered. Within moments of Hrathgars fall, and that final determined prayer to spill out from dying lips, does a blizzard begin to take form. An unnatural whirlwind of ice and snow, the likes of which contains countless glimmering fragments- gleaming lights which dance and dart amidst the white wilderness. Moving ever in pairs, each of them burn with a distinct form of malignance. An unsettling feeling which only seems to intensify in the area as the moments tick by. Before anyone can further contemplate the source of the dark energy or what served to incite it, Hrathgars body suddenly catches alight, shrouded in a mass of flames which glisten azure and ivory. It's with an unnatural swiftness that the body finds itself consumed, dissipating into the swirling snow- until the storm also comes to an abrupt end.

Satoshi finds herself rooted to the snowy hillock throughout the infernal display, tails a puffed up quartet with fur gone rigid as if electrified while the amber flecks of her eyes gleam with unnatural light, strong enough to overpower the normal icy glistening of the surrounding azure. She's felt these essences before, in her own unpleasant tangle with the Ice Devils of the ruins, but never at this potency and never when her own essence is woven into the surrounding snows being twisted by their abyssal presence. All too quickly it passes, however, leaving the little vampire blinking and in a daze, mind scrambling to recover itself so that she can call out to Frostmaw's Justice. But Redovian is two steps ahead of her, for the paladin is already charging off in the direction of the ruins with blades bared as he sets himself to hunting down the escaped Hrathgar. Leaving the task to the dutiful swordsman, Satoshi descends her hill at last and winds her way toward the waiting golem--pausing twice along the way, once to look in the direction of the gates where she senses a fast-approaching and familiar presence, and once to retrieve Victor's sword from the wolf's body. Once she reaches Buster, the golem lowers its cargo so that the kit can peer at him and offer him his blade. "This is yours, wolf-slayer~," Satoshi trills, not a note of her internal unease evident in her sing-song voice, "As is the beast you defeated, of course."

Victor uses his right hand to grab the hilt of the blade before sliding off the golem battered, bruised and still not bleeding he smiles, Thanks is all the man can muster at the moment. The human looks towards his left royally slashed up arm that was still semi frozen still in disbelief, although he kinda seen what went on but was to tired to even bother yet, Names Victor the human adds as he straightens himself out, his mother had always taught him to have manners even upon death, Your name, good lady he wasn't to sure what to say or do but he did know one thing, he was freezing so he attempted to wrap himself up more in his cloak and realised that was missing to so he shrugged. He then ripped some of his tunic to wrap his left arm up and stumble over to his prize, the dead wolf, Victor, wolf-slayer and Savant he muttered under his breathe, he liked it, a lot.

Satoshi and golem follow Victor at a distance, although the former is careful to keep the latter between them as the scent of blood is rich in the air and she's growing hungry. It's for this reason she the kit refrains from the old habit of breathing, a fact that makes her words sound vaguely stilted and uncertain, but she's willing to opt for that nuisance rather than sink her teeth into this strange ally's neck. "A pleasure, Victor. As was witnessing your bout with the wolf. Our wolves do not fall easily, so color me impressed," bowing then, the kit sweeps off her pointed hat with a flourish, "And call me Satoshi Azakhaer, the Lady of these lands." Vulpine ears press flat then, as the winds shift and carry a fresh wave of that intoxicating scent her way from the nearby dead giants. This may prove to be a short interview, one way or another.

Delain kept on his way, tail dragging behind him. He turned back once, seeing the beautiful cryomancer and stops in his tracks briefly. A sigh and he turned back to the woman and made his way to her, if only to initiate a conversation. She looked powerful, but perhaps it was just the superficial factor that attracted him. A race like that he hasn't seen before.

Victor stopped dead in his tracks, it couldn't be he mutter to himself as he span round to look at her trying to take her in, to examine her. As he did so he sheathed his gladius, Forgive me, my lady. I have forgotten my manners with that he attempts a one knee bow to the Vulpine not realising what she was, I have been seeking you out anyway but first if you don't mind me asking... Is there a healer nearby that can tend to my wounds or i might not make it through the night in this weather he still didn't budge from his one knee bow but he did have a smile on his face, he had heard of satoshi even tried seeking to join her and she said she was impressed it was those words he would remember for a very long time but tried to appear unfazed and act cool like it was normal for him but it really wasn't and that was obvious.

Satoshi leaps all too readily upon Victor's words, as they offer her an outlet that won't end in attempted murder or undignified retreats. "There is a healer just inside the city gates. I can lend you my golem to escort you there, and to ensure the shaman tends you properly. Once you've been patched up, we can speak. I've a mess to clean up, reports to make, and displeased Queensguards to appease after this evening's little warm-up." Yes, the foxkin just referred to this raiding party incident as a warm-up. It could be an exaggeration, or it could be accurate, when one takes into consideration Frostmaw's reputation as the City of War. Whichever it is, Satoshi isn't saying, not when she's glancing in the direction of the approaching draconian, curious if he's changed his mind about departing.

Victor heads of with the golem to get patched up and shizzle with his wolf.

Delain advances with his spoils around his waist, his weapons entirely visible as he approached her. Pace slowed down until he had stopped before her and Victor, not paying attention to anyone else. Solid violet hues gaze upon her form before he nods, "Greetings." he growls, having been in his draconic form the entire time. Else the feats he had performed would have been near impossible for him as of yet.

Satoshi nods deeply in return, her hand rising to tug on the brim of her hat in something of a salute. "Well met, dragonkin." It's a guess, but a fairly educated one when she takes into consideration the man's appearance, a scent that does not tempt her appetite, and the kit's long running familiarity with those of the saurian races. The swift scrutiny that had given her the variety of draconian clues also allows the foxkin to take notice of the components he'd collected from the wyvern. Apothecary? Mage? Eccentric? "Interesting choice for trophies, monsieur."

Delain takes in each detail he could collect, eyes travelling her body, though he figured it would be near impossible to tell where his eyes would linger being that he had no pupils. He wasn't abusing the privelage though. When she speaks he looks down to his waist. "I will use it for my own magical studies.. however I find that I am running low on my supply. And I have not the knowledge of an alchemical lab nearby where I can make more." he shrugged, figuring that telling his intentions is not in the least harmful.. From what he had seen, if she wanted him dead she wouldn't have a problem no matter how hard he fought.

Satoshi grins, the look almost feral when her fangs come into the mix. "Aha~. Of the magecraft, then? And sharp too, to not miss the chance to harvest ingredients usually uncommon. Those wyverns are notorious for taking pieces out of those that want parts of 'em. What sorts do you seek, typically? Frostmaw's environment offers a wide assortment that can't be found elsewhere, et I'm a bit of a collector myself, even if they are not necessary for most of my....active work." Which is to say, her battle magic is almost purely environmental based, while her leisurely experiments and creations tend to call for components aplenty. If this fellow was the wandering gatherer type, she might finally have a readily available source of supplies.

Delain looks down, "I am a bit.. but I am no stranger to the sword either.. As I'm sure you may have noticed." he reached down and unstrung a pouch from his waist. "It isn't much, but if you know of a lab.. you could have this.. Its a very difficult to make component, and just a pinch takes the place of any component that you may need for whatever spell you are attempting to craft. Omnispell dust, potent, and heavily magical. It would be a pain to part with it, but with the proper equipment.. I can construct more." he nodded to her, a silent plea for any assistance poisoning the air of confidence, revealing a small crack in his resolve.

Satoshi accepts the offered pouch in her gloved palm, hefting it to gain a feel for the weight and sense for its arcane properties. "A precious gift, stranger, and for it I can happily point you to a variety of workplaces that should suit your needs. The naga city of Alithrya is home to a former alchemy lab, although likely not a safe place to loiter. You should have little trouble finding places in Vailkrin, albeit on the... ah, shady side, all things considered. Most apothecaries and the like in that city specialize in poisons or other unpleasantries. The Mage's Tower has a variety for all levels of students in the arts. As well, I'll give you this, to ensure gifts are on equal standings." With a flourish the pouch is stowed up her sleeve and a canvas-wrapped bundle is produced from her satchel. This is offered to the draconian with the simple remark, "Scales of a couatl. Hardy, with a tendency to absorb small magicks, and an excellent augmenting to anything involving psionics." Emiur will likely be annoyed that she gave away his scales, but Satoshi knows how to appease the vain old snake easily enough.

Delain takes the knowledge and the gift with heavy praise, "Thank you m'lady. Not something I have heard of. I will put it to good use.. As for these cities.. I am new here.. and I don't know where any of these places are." he dipped his head, an admittance to his lack of knowledge. "And I don't delve into things such as poison. To me they are not a true way to fight. But sometimes they are necessary for foes that can't be beaten normally. I will be using it to construct components.. Namely that powder.. It is stronger than you may realize. I have used it enough to know proportions. Use too much and a spell may backfire.. same goes for too little. Please use caution my lady."

Satoshi's reaction to the man's words of caution are, of all things, a wink and vulpine smirk. "Have no fear, monsieur~. I have not earned my rank as a Magister Templi in the Mage's Guild by mishandling arcane material." A lie. Most of her deadliest spells were dangerous results from utterly mistreating simple workings, and the ability to improvise as only a battle-mage can. Satoshi hardly knows the meaning of the word caution when it comes to spellcraft, but as she and Svilfon are fond of saying before they plunge into the unknown 'what's the worst that could happen?' Nonetheless, it's best not to mention such cavalier methods to those unused to them. It tends to breed unneccessary worry, for themselves and their homes. Such subjects are easily avoided by her seizing upon the fellow's other comment. "Ah~, well, the closest and probably best suited for your needs is the Mage Tower, it is due south of this mountain range. You likely passed it on your way up here to Frostmaw. It's a tall thing, looks to be made of water. They're an open and friendly sort, won't cause you trouble so long as you don't cause them trouble. Tell them Satoshi Azakhaer pointed you there, and they'll lend you further aid."

Delain nods to her, "I trust that you are right.. I wouldn't want to recieve word of one so exotic as yourself vanishing because a spell backfires or is so powerful.. it swallows you whole. Perhaps in the future.. should you want more powder and I have procured enough of it, you can seek me out.. and then perhaps deals can be made.." he looks around him at the battlefield. "However I find myself curious.. Do things like I have witnessed on this night happen often? I know it is not my place, being just a passerby, but I can't help but ask. Curiosity can be a deadly thing I'm sure you have heard." he shrugged, relaxing a bit in her presence after he was sure no danger was nearby.

Satoshi throws an unpleasantly casual look toward the surrounding carnage and absently licks her lips at the sight before nodding. "Aye. In Frostmaw, at least. We are the city of War, with people rarely content to sit idle when a foe is out there waiting for his face to be bashed in. Most of Frostmaw follows Aramoth, the god of warriors and combat, and seek to please him by defeating enemies. However," here the kit sighs, looking marginally annoyed, "commonplace or not, I still have to make reports and the like, and see to the clean up before our forest's scavengers come calling. Last thing I want is a flock of half-starved frost drakes landing outside the city gate. As such, I should like be bidding you a farewell. At least until next time, where I'll be sure to find a few interesting new components for you, eh?" That's Satoshi's way of saying she looks forward to make deals and trades.

Delain grins, his partially pointed teeth clean to a level that wouldn't usually be found in most commoners. "Before you go.. If I heard you correctly.. Your name is Satoshi right? It is a pleasure to meet one such as yourself.. You may calle me Delain." he bowed, spanning his destroyed wings in a display of pride for his scars, that he will sacrifice anything when it is necessary. "I hope to meet you again as well, and good luck with these lands. Perhaps one day I will come upon.. another battle and be more willing to partake in the spoils of war. I only take what I kill." with that he nodded once more, the features of his face bland again as he turned and strode away, raising two fingers in a salute to the Cryomancer in farewell.

Satoshi salutes the draconian in turn, "Farewell, Delain. I have no doubt we'll cross paths again~."

Satoshi, once the draconian has departed, turns her attention back to the small, hellish battlefield. Eyes drift over mangled flesh, twisted limbs, decimated bodies, and the sea of crimson snow it all rests upon. The sight makes the kit dizzy with delight, lips licked in anticipation at the feast to come. As she steps toward the first of the dead giants, she murmurs, "Well, waste not want not, I always say~." After all, she can make her reports later, after the mess is handled.

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