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RP:Dancing On The (Event) Horizon

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Part of the Unforeseen Consequences Arc

Hanging Corpse Tavern

This once-timber tavern has been rebuilt in sturdily vitrified blackstone and imbued with powerful protective magics that prevent occult fire and several other potentially harmful spells being cast within its walls. No effort has been spared to make what might otherwise be a bleak interior comfortable. The bar is made of polished stone with an oaken inlay, the space behind filled with a bustle of attractive barmaids, sundry barrels and a dazzling array of coloured bottles that glint in the light cast by a large wrought-iron candelabrum suspended from the ceiling overhead. Here, the one-eyed Steadman stands, ready to take orders for food or drink. Beyond the bar, stout tables are firmly bolted to the floor, though the high-backed chairs are freestanding. The hearth is a true feature, seeming to be cast from black lava into the shape of a colossal, laughing goblin's head, its maw gaping wide and deep, usually containing a merrily crackling fire. A delicious scent of roasting meats drifts in from the kitchens and a winding staircase leads to rooms upstairs. To the south are set cellar doors, usually kept locked unless a special event is taking place. The walls are hung with thick, richly woven tapestries depicting persons and events in the history of Vailkrin and the Vampiric race. There's also a notice-board near the entrance, where one may leave messages. Unobtrusive but ever-present are the security staff, staunch fighters ever ready to toss troublemakers out.


Eldgrimr|| The Hanging Corpse door opens with a noisy 'creaaak', and a tall, bulky figure suddenly fills the doorway. Despite wearing softer boots than most, his sheer weight causes his footsteps to 'thud' dully as he makes his way across the wooden floor. At a height of seven feet, and three inches, he graces the limit of human height quite nicely. Towards the bar this hulking figure goes, likely to test the grog, or perhaps the blood wine.

Skjorta had been battered and then healed the other day, as well as dragged out of Frostmaw to Kelay. The temperature didn't suit the woman, not in the least. She was far too used to the harsh cold of Frostmaw. Unlike Eldgrimr, her footsteps weren't quite as loud with their 'thudding', certainly her muscle mass may have caused a slight creak in the wooden floorboards but her bare feet made little noise otherwise. Forever wild eyes scanned the tavern, checking for any immediate threats and the like, before she made for the bar. A nice tankard of mead would do her well.

Kasyr||Vailkrin might not be Frostmaw cold, but there's always a certain ever-present chill in the air, courtesy of the fog which drifts through the streets. A fog which the Kensai is currently cursing, if only because it makes the situation on the streets that much more difficult to follow. Really, the Revenant feels he should be out there, doing his part to massacre the unwholesome abberations that are roaming the streets- and yet, he's duly aware that were he to simply continue on, without taking time to feed, he'd eventually succumb to fatigue. Those damnable creatures simply weren't edible, providing no sustenance whilst out in the field.

Iintahquohae slept in the tavern that night across a few unused chairs, immediately after sneaking upstairs to scrub both herself and her clothes for a good three or four hours to get the guts and blood off of her. Her clothes, if they were lighter in color, would probably have a noticeably pinker tinge to them from what she couldn't scrub out, but they were at least wearable now. And less smelly. Now she could be seen seated cross-legged on the baby piano's bench, finger-knitting with a ball of butcher's twine Inks thought she'd borrow for a bit found behind the bar. Her head briefly lifts to view the door at the sound of people entering, then turns once more to whatever the long rectangle of twine fabric she was making was supposed to be. Somebody's bored.

Kirien has spent the entire night listening to the muted explosions rocking the ceiling of his top floor bedroom, as fleshy bombs were shredded upon impacting against the Corpse's heavily-enchanted exterior. The minimal sleep he managed to snatch up there is presumably enough to sustain the vampire, though, who looks suspiciously perky as he descends the stairs, still sporting a distinctly ruffled, bedhead look, shirtless and with a bandage wrapped tightly round his upper arm; his coat and sweater are gathered in a bundle that he carries against his side. He's already overflowing with oddities as it is but perhaps the most curious thing about Kirien today is not the empath himself, but rather his companion. A large golden eagle has made itself a comfortable perch upon his uninjured forearm - Kirien is eyeing it with a faint suspicious that he diverts Kasyr's way as he approaches the revenant. He lifts his jaw to the man, simultaneously greeting him while motioning to the eagle. "It's a bird now." It seems he's going to be Captain Obvious today, but judging by his expression, that bird was...not a bird until recently.

Eldgrimr had, of course, snuck his way through the streets, avoiding the hordes of undead shambling, shuffling, and moaning through the quarters. Big men can be stealthy when their enemies are so dull. The tavern stool groans beneath Eldgrimr's massive weight, "Black fire wine eh? Sounds like a rare brew. Three bottles of it!" The 'tender raises a brow and stacks the trio of glass onto the counter. What an arrogant drinker, "Might not be getting back out of this city alive without a fight. Might as well be risky where risk is inevitable." His heavy, northern accent is hoarse, and deep.

Skjorta was only stealthy when it was truly necessary, but the woman did love combat. She loved to get a good use out of her axes, actually. She had slain the less difficult and few in number corpses before sneaking her way to the tavern itself. Now she stood at the bar, eyeing the menu with a distinct air of disappointment. She had come all this way... for no mead. If she were any weaker she may have cried! "What do you mean, you have no mead?" she huffed angrily, blue war paint on her face only accentuating her angry, wild blue eyes. "Fine. Give me the strongest drink you have. And chicken, too. Can't go roaming on an empty stomach," she muttered in a less-than-agreeable tone.

Kasyr picked up the half empty glass of blood-wine that still sat beside him, thoughtfully swishing it's contents about for a few moments, "Slept well? I didn't exactly get that Luxury, enfin." It's only after a pause that the Kensai adds, "Et yes, that es clearly a bird. A gift from Satoshi? Or did it follow tu home?" Whilst the revenant can parse together that there's something at once unusual and familiar about the thing, he can hardly be blamed for not putting together all the pieces. "I hope you're recovered well enough to go back outside- I could do with the help." Inky's offered a glance, the Revenant simply muttering, "I imagine the Dead Man will show up at some point or another." Because really, at this point? The city -needed- a reprieve from the veritable rain of abominations that it was being subjected to. Creatures large and small continued to spill forth from the rift in the sky. The fliers were less of a concern at the moment, if only because they weren't generally as intent on murdering the individuals on the ground (Notable exceptions did exist). No, the major concern was those monstrosities that hit the ground and didn't just proceed to burst asunder in sprays of gore, black ichor, and a patchwork mess of flesh, bone, chitin, fur and scale- the ones that gyred, gimbled, crawled and skittered through the streets, along the rooftops and in the sewers.

Kirien casts a curious glance toward the two outlanders further along the bar. He scrutinises the larger man for an extra moment, the look in his gaze reminiscent of one eyeing up their next meal.

Iintahquohae listened for Kasyr and Kirien's conversation. Her eyes shift toward the pair at the name 'Dead Man', then shift back toward her work, if she wanted to call it that. The rectangular twine fabric she made is slipped off her fingers and its stitches carefully frogged, only for the seamstress to wind the ball up again and start over. The louder pair of people at the bar are glanced over with a curious eye, but paid no mind afterward. She recognized Eldgrimr, and wasn't in the mood for conversing with him. With ball of twine rewound, Inks starts over, frowning slightly at the ceiling when thuds of larger things outside hitting the roof could be heard.

Kirien scrunches his nose a little. "As well as one can sleep when the ceiling es being bombed by those monsters. Which is to say, I've slept better." Dumping his clothing on the table, he lifts a hand and strokes his fingertips gently over the bird's brow, earning himself a soft nip in response. The empath's eye narrows a touch - he shakes his head at Kasyr. "It's Arte. The headband." The look he gives the revenant is one of silent expectation, because Kirien is still very much convinced that he had -something- to do with the headband's creation. A dismissive shrug follows and he turns to rap his knuckles on the bartop and catch Steadmen's attention, while Arte hops down to perch upon the table instead. Kirien spares Inks a curious glance and a brief wave, but he's still talking to Kasyr. "Once I've had breakfast, sure. Though-- what's the plan, even? I heard Ranok saying he was going to do something with the portals, et something about evacuation and razing...none of which sounds particularly good."

Eldgrimr ::: One of the bottles is open now and it is lifted to Eldgrimr's lips. The burn is like liquor, strong liquor, and the large man winces, "Aye that's the stuff." He glances at Ink now, shaking his head at her misfortune of being in the wrong place, at the wrong time, but ultimately fixes his attentions on Kasyr questioningly, not noticing Kirien's hungry gaze, "Dead things are rampant out there. I might be begging for a long answer but how'd it happen. My long off village doesn't get much news from these parts."

Skjorta accepts a bottle from the bartender, lifting it for a quick gulp to test the contents. It had a fairly strong kick, causing her nose to crinkle. "Strong stuff you got there," she muttered with a small grin, taking another sip before setting the bottle down. She looked to the plate now set in front of her, stabbing her fork into a small portion of chicken. As she took a delicious bite, her gaze travelled the tavern again for a closer look at the patrons. A guy with a weird accent; a topless guy with an occasionally weird accent; a seamstress and an outlander like herself. "'ey, what's going on?" she asked, to no-one in particular.

Kasyr gingerly sets the now empty glass down on the table, if only to begin pulling himself up to his feet. Offering those present a quick once-over, the Kensai simply proceeds to stretch out, the motion sending his trenchcoat sweeping outwards with a notable 'Thud', the likes of which seems to hint at the armour that's been woven within. "Well. Let's see where to start." Kirien is eyed first, if only so the Kensai can state, "No idea, on the bird, sorry. I run a city, not an aviary. For magical weapons that think they're pigeons." That stated, the Kensai that redirects his attention towards the new-comers, by which point he simply states, "What's going on es trouble. The sky es raining monstrosities of all sorts, things that can't even be called undead. Things that never have never really 'lived' in the first place, apparament. The first wave, before something far worse tries to push itself through that tear in the sky." There were other things as well, like how some of the undead population was becoming more restless, feral in some cases, deranged in others- it varied. And that problem of vampires losing their urge to feed, inadvertantly starving to death in the city. Even the Kensai didn't feel -hungry- persay, more eating out of habit, and a simply knowledge that he needed to, if he wanted to keep murdering. But, that was neither here, nor there, "But oui. Trouble works as a solid definition." Kirien is once more addressed at this point, the Kensai offering him a grim expression, "Ranok wants me to evacuate as many people as possible. If that rift reaches the point of no return, he es intending on trying to break down the portals that lead out to Cenril et Kelay. No word on how he intends to 'fix' things near Alithyra or the Underdark. I'm holding out for Red, until the last moment. Though, I'm seeing about preperations for evacuations, so that we can potentially herd people to the Naga city."

Kirien procures himself some chicken from the barkeep, along with a glass brimming with quality blood wine. These join Arte on the table and the genasi takes a long drink before setting the glass down, working his way into his sweater. The expression etched across his features when his face pops out of the garment's neck hole is one of disappointment and when he finds himself unsure of how to respond, Arte does so for him. Stretching its neck forward, the eagle catches Kasyr's sleeve in its hooked bill then lays a taloned foot over the man's wrist; more exactly, directly over the spot where one of Empera's tattoos lies dormant. The familiar gives the kensai an oddly knowing look that Kirien doesn't miss and frowns at, stuffing a chunk of chicken into his mouth and chewing thoughtfully. "What he said," he offers to the foreigners, tugging his sweater down. "The undead are the least of your worries." Turning back to his sire, the empath purses his lips some in clear displeasure at the notion of this mess escalating to the point of no return. "D'you think it'll get that bad? I'm all for evacuating people for safety, but not for destroying the city-- I can only assume you feel the same despite your...somewhat destructive habits." Pausing, he manages to flash him a grin. "Though I guess that runs in the family."

Eldgrimr nods slowly, taking another swig of the potent wine, "I do not fear death. When do we fight then? My spear thirsts for flesh of every kind and my blood wishes to boil." His eyes grow a bit wild and a familiar wrath threatens to rear when the promise of battle is made known, "I'm ready when the rest of ye are."

Skjorta gave a little nod of agreement, before taking another bite of the chicken. "Fighting is all well and good..."

Iintahquohae waves back at Kirien, brow lofting at the golden eagle that accompanied him. She doesn't think it fell from the sky. Maybe they kept birds upstairs somewhere. The seamstress crinkles her nose and tilts her head back for a moment to prevent her glasses from slipping down the bridge of her nose, then shifts in her seated position to get a proper view of the others nearby. Her question is directed at Kasyr. "This Dark Man. Do you know what exactly he needs me to do to help?" The revenant said that Red needed a seamstress, but she doubted simple needle and thread could fix a rift in the sky.

Kasyr merely listens to that mish-mashed group, before he simply lifts up both his hands, to signal that he was prepared to address their questions. The seamstress earns his attention first, the Revenant offering her a sympathetic look, "At this moment, I have very little clue as to the exacts of what he es trying to do, other than that he was searching for people with your talents. That es a question you will need to ask him, once he's located." Towards the rest, the Revenants response is far simpler, "I hardly intend to let this city get razed, until everything es lost- so, now would be a good time to get a last bite to eat, perhaps a last drink, because I'm venturing out anew. D'accord?" Whether or not they understand that final word is irrelevant, as the Kensai simply moves over towards the taverns door- his hand pressed against the threshold, awaiting those who would follow.

Kirien is one to take his time with meals but it appears he won't be granted that luxury today. "Oui, oui, one moment." Quickly finishing off the last of the chicken breast, he downs the remaining blood wine then shucks his coat on. Sleeve ends are shaken out with a slight flourish and Kirien strides past Kasyr, if only to pause at the stuffed dandy stood nearby the door, whom it seems has taken good care of his massive greataxe. "Thanks, Corny. You're a dear," the empath says with genuine affection to the coat rack as he lifts the weapon - it's over four foot in length, its blade end still stained red with the blood of those unfortunate abominations Kirien met last night. "Ready when you are." The others get a raise of brow before he focuses on Arte and waves a hand hurriedly at the familiar. "C'mon."

Eldgrimr ::: His laughter heaves now, that large figure rising, neck cracking as a habit, that long, dark steel spear gripped in hand, shield in the other, and to Steadmen is his final word within the Hanging Corpse before battle, "I'm leavin' my wine here for now. I'll drink it when I get back. If I don't drink it for me and blow a horn in my name." He nods solemnly and follows Kasyr.

Kasyr isn't quite sure that's blood. Then again, he's not sure -what- it is. Given the abominations tend to be filled with what looks to be a horrible combination of ichor and pus. He's not super keen on finding out, either.

Kirien isn't sure either, to be honest. He's more content to simply call it blood rather than lick it and discover otherwise.

Skjorta pulls her axes forth and offers a little grin, "Off we go," she muttered. That said, she ventured outside to get to work!

Iintahquohae nods slightly. She hoped she wouldn't be kept in the dark much longer for what the Dark Man needed for her to do. Carefully, she slides loops of twine from her fingers and sets the twine at her side, then stands once Kasyr heads for the door. She follows behind Kirien, hands flying to her pockets for the two or three rocks that still rested within. They were nowhere near as powerful as that greataxe Kirien had, but hopefully luck would strike her twice and another chicken-flail or something might fall from the sky again. The thought crosses the seamstress's mind to double back and grab something. Surely the tavern wouldn't mind parting with a chair or a stool. She snatches one of the high backed chairs and holds it by two legs, and returns to the door. It wasn't much, but it was something.

Kirien 's final words of choice come with a laugh; "On y va~!"

Kasyr nudges the door open and steps through, the only thing he mutters being a simple, "I'd have to know your name, then." And into the fog he goes, his pace already picking up as he seeks to go back to the center of the chaos- towards the Fountain of Blood.


Blood Fountain

This historic fountain has been magically restored, though with differences. The outer wall stands three feet high in a perfect circle, and a central pedestal rises a foot above that. On this have been raised two figures carved of pure white stone, a noble Lord and Lady of proud bearing, both obviously vampires. They are dressed in elegant robes, the embroidery depicted by fine, spidery engravings on the stone itself. Around the outside of the pool are carved, in slightly less detail than the statues above, depictions of all the races that may be sired, each in a vampiric form. The pool is already filled with bland but nutritious blood, the pipes creating a hypnotic spiraling motion as it flows in a clockwise direction. To the south a dimming path leads to high and ornate iron gates, beyond which may be glimpsed the tops of tombstones glinting below the bright moon as well as several larger buildings, and to the north seems to lie another hub of activity for the citizens and visitors of Vailkrin, to judge by the stream of nobles,commoners, traders and ruffians alike that are constantly treading to and fro.


Kasyr comes to a skidding halt when he reaches the fountain, his gaze quickly flitting about the scene to take in the details. Soldiers, both undead and vampiric in nature, were still engaged in combat, having by this point entrenched themselves in the nearby houses- so that they could harass the various threats which continued to manifest with a combination of arcane prowess and archery. With doors, windows, and even a fairly large portion of a house having been caved in- it could only be gathered that the fight had been fought in close quarters quite a few times by this point. Somewhere off to the Kensai's side, a grapefruit sized mass of 'flesh' hits the ground, only to burst asunder in an oozing puddle of ichor. Elsewhere, something roughly the size of a horse crashes into a rooftop, plowing through the spikes Redhale had placed so many months ago- and into the attic of the building; though from the violent sounds of thrashing that emanate out from that newly made crater- it can only be surmised that it didn't die on impact. Offhandedly- the Revenant begins to search through his pockets for a cigarette, seemingly heedless of the havoc that continues to escalate around him. All around him, the sound of flesh hitting the ground continues to ring out, heralding the appearance of even more malformed aberrations. "C'mon." Rummage, rummage. Splash. Some ghastly thing that looks like a bramble bush made of bone begins to unfurl from near the fountain. Crunch. A simple spherical mass of scale slams into the ground. "Ah." With his cigarette found, the Kensai proceeds to settle it on his lips, by which point a quickly murmured cantrip and a snap of his fingers serves to light it. "Right."

Kirien jogs along in Kasyr's wake, drifting through trailing banners of thickened mist that do little to hinder his sight but send uneasy shivers down his spine all the same. The square surrounding the fountain, the epicentre of this mess, has clearly been subjected to the worst of the macabre downpour, the cobblestones slick with ichor and pulverised flesh, and still more tumbles from the sky - he ducks instinctively as his gut warns him of incoming projectiles, sensing something whistle over his head, though it lands a good thirty feet away from him and explodes in a burst of gooey, caustic fluid. Straightening and patting Kasyr's shoulder, Kirien slips by him and rounds the fountain. He streaks across the square to where a heavy iron grid has been pushed aside, the empty, blackened maw of the opening beckoning him below ground, into the sewers. For a man who can't truly see anything in the sky, he figures he'll be safer below the road where there's a good amount of rock between his head and any falling flesh-bombs; and this gives Kirien the opportunity to hunt down what monsters have chosen to lurk beneath the streets, skulking about in the twisting tunnels of Vailkrin's sewer system.

Eldgrimr ::: Everywhere chaos reigns. Dead vampires, lifeless undead corpses, and slain strange creatures litter the ground everywhere. The still moving soldiers fight valiantly but Eldgrimr knows that many of them won't live to sing their victory songs. The berserker focuses on his rage, the inner wrath that has been building up all this time, and what was once a focused, calm demeanor of discipline, and cold wisdom, is now a wild eyed visage of battle frenzy. Shouting loudly, the warrior makes himself known, "I am Eldgrimr Hammarskjold! Sworn vassal of Eboric Pendasson! True King and Heir of the Kuronii! Every abomination that falls by my spear will know the fury of the Warband: Aethlinga Gedriht! Defend yourselves foul ones that hold this city hostage!" A bellowing roar tears from the hulk of a man. His spear bends backwards as the berserker leaps into the air, careening towards one of the two legged abominations, it's appearance seemingly a two headed zombie. It is smaller than Eldgrimr but no less dangerous. The warrior lands his fierce blow, his large boots ramming into the ground, his spear embedding itself within the creature's torso. Eldgrimr is now lost to the berserk fury. Adrenaline courses through the man's veins as he lifts the smaller creature from the ground, his steel spear being used as a lever, and he plows the creature into another of it's ilk via a circling sweep, the abomination now a weapon in, and of itself. When his sweep comes full circle, Eldgrimr's shield quickly follows the organic missile in collision with the second creature. The bellowing roar does not leave the berserker's maw.

Iintahquohae felt just a tiny bit more prepared for the creatures milling about and falling from the sky compared to yesterday. At least now she had an idea of what to expect; a myriad of fleshy, bony, bloody things that she couldn't even begin to comprehend. She separates herself from Kasyr a bit, eyeing up a seemingly distracted fleshy centipede creature two lengths of a horse with thin, bony humanoid arms in place for legs, and raises the chair grasped in her hands. The high back end is swung in an arc at the thing, only to find that a pair of the hands attached to its legs were alert, and grabbed at the chair. It appeared that within each palm of each 'leg' was a watchful eye, and now Inks was in a strange game of tug-o-war with one pair of the centipede's eye hands. The seamstress cringes when a dog-sized mass of mostly bone and decaying muscle rains down upon the chair, and tilts her end of the chair downward so it rolls into the centipede. Sharp shards of bone sticking out of the flailing mass rupture a few of the centipede's ..arm-eyes, and it releases its grip of the chair while hissing in pain from an unseen mouth. Once it looks like the pair of monsters are turned on each other, Inks whirls around and spots Kirien in the distance head for the sewers, then promptly follows. There were, hopefully, less overhead surprises down there. She had a glowing stone still jostling around in her pocket among the bits of silver and chunks of rock as well, so that thing might become useful as well. Chair in hand, she hurries on after the terramancer, backpedaling a few times when the shadow of something flying through the air whizzes before her and slipping on the bloodied streets several times. She eventually reaches the opening and drops in moments after Kirien.

Shishi has recently been let off the leash that is his eight year old twin children and so the vampire arrives uncharacteristically without 'Orange' and 'Yellow' in tow. As he nears the apparent epicenter of this catastrophe it is increasingly clear that Arius and Leralynn's absence is for the best. What's drawn the assassin out this way is anyone's guess. Perhaps he was only on his way to check up on the Thorne Estate that had been left to his absent children, in which case he's likely to be upset with the gruesome new coat of 'paint' it's getting from this unique bit of weather Vailkrin is experiencing. If it were 'action' that's drawn the vampire out here one wouldn't know it by the disgusted look on Shishi's face and theway he kind of zig-zags towards the fountain in a futile attempt to keep himself clean through the downpour. By the time Blue happens upon the gathering of those battling the things falling from the sky his splattered with blood and bits of flesh and bone and he's given up on trying to dodge the contents of exploding body parts. A questioning look is spared towards Kasyr just as the hind segments of the centipede thing Iintahquohae had wounded with her seat come thrashing wildly into the unprepared assassin and fling him onto his hands and knees to the soggy street.

Kasyr draws the cigarette out from his mouth, if only so he can wave to the approaching Shishi..and then wince when the assassin get's sent tumbling to the ground. With a sigh and a shake of his head, the Kensai flicks his smoke off to the side before he breaks into a headlong charge towards that dreadful abberation. Mid-dash his trenchcoat is shrugged off, that weighty combination of leather, mithril mesh and preklek plating discarded along the way- resulting in the painful pulverisation of the unforunate monstrosity it lands upon. No longer weighted down in any manner, the Kensai leaps forward- landing on the back of the writhing 'centipede-thing', if only to continue his mad dash down it's back due to a combination of his vampiric agility, and an altogether unnatural sense of balance. It's only when the Kensai nears what he hopes is the beasts 'head' that he draws his hands down towards his sides, and abruptly lunges forward. In a single crisp motion, a pair of Silver-Wrought Katanas are drawn forth, the very motion of unsheathing them used to shred into the beast. Before the Revenant even has the time to land, those blades are arced forward thrice more- reducing the targeted area to a ruin of severed flesh. Landing in a crouch, just past the creature, the Kensai takes a moment to flick the ichor of his blades, and casually call out, "Hey, Blue." It's only then that he turns around- and promptly gets batted away by one of the myriad limbs of the 'Centipede-ish' thing. Kasyr bounces once, like a rock skipped across the surface of a pond, before he comes to an ignoble skidding halt along the ground- ending just inches away from the large scaled 'sphere' which had landed in the square. Up close, he couldn't help but notice it was close to twice as tall as him, Like some sort of Abyssal hailstone.

Kirien is as much at home in the sewers as he would be in a deep, underground cavern. The locale does not matter, only the familiar feeling of rock surrounding him completely on all sides. This blanket of solid stone helps to dull the muddied cacophony of the battles occurring above and Kirien finds solace in this quieter atmosphere, though the sense of some creeping malignance only grows down here. Pitch black tunnels stretch ahead and behind - the genasi is not bothered by the dark as his peculiar vision is unaffected by the cloak of ever-present shadow, but he experiences that uneasy prickling on the back of his neck all the same. He is safe from overhead projectiles, but the sewers are just as dangerous as the surface, if not more. Pausing in the pale halo of half-light cast by the rounded opening above, Kirien hears the beserker's bold shouts of his name, his titles, and his quest for victory, and can't help a little huff of a laugh. Hopefully he's not all wind and words. Starting off down the tunnel, he comes to a halt once more as Inks drops down into the hole behind him and he blinks owlishly at the chair-wielding seamstress, honestly a mite surprised. Then he shrugs. "Guess we'll pair up. I-- ah. Wait." He spins and retraces his steps back to her and the sewer entrance, then whistles shrilly - Arte comes soaring through the opening and, curiously, the entire bird simply flies -into- Kirien's body and vanishes from sight. A couple of seconds later and the familiar golden bandana has manifested itself once more, this time choosing to wrap itself round the empath's wrist. Kirien nods to Inks then strides into the darkness, Nuial'Ashier's blade a razor-edged glint.

Iintahquohae wasn't particularly fond of the dark, or sewers, but preferred both over staying above ground where there were things falling out of the sky. She could only assume some of them managed to wriggle their way in the sewers, but at least she knew they wouldn't be dropping on her head. Hopefully. The thought of something that walked on walls and could traverse the ceiling like a bug flew through her mind, and is immediately pushed out. Because if you ignore how things possibly could happen, they can't happen. Ha. She steps out of the light produced from the hole she fell through once Kirien approaches, leaning back against the grimy wall while still clutching the chair in her hands. Her eyes widen a bit while they begin to adjust to the darkness around her some, even more so when that bird the terramancer had perched upon his arm in the tavern had flown ..into him? Inks blinks confusedly, then shrugs it off. Oddities were going to be something she would need to learn to expect from now on, she thought. A slight nod if given back to Kirien, and she quietly follows, one hand reaching into her pocket to loosely grasp one of the little chunks of glowing stone that rested within just in case it got too dark for her to see.

Shishi slips a bit on the soaked stone ground while pushing himself back up to his feet. Towards Kasyr, Blue complains after the Revenant has acknowledged his colorful nomenclature, "This is what I have to come home to, eh?" Hands are shaken in an attempt to flick off whatever remains had stuck to them from the fall to the ground. A black wand is pulled from some pocket at the assassin's side and pointed threateningly at the creature that had struck back against Kasyr. The Blue Demon flicks his wrist once or twice and cringes slightly when no magical effect comes spouting out from the end of the Chaotic wand. Blue eyes blink a couple times down at the apparently fickle magical weapon just before the assassin is forced to skip backwards swiftly to avoid a wild flail from the creature just before it turns to follow up it's attack on the Revenant. A frustrated sigh leaves Shishi's lips just before the assassin allows his family's curse to activate, the visual indication of such a change in the vampire's eye color from oceanic blue to crimson. During this change an unnatural pulse seems to move through the shadows cast around the area including the darkness that covers the sewers below the Blue Demon's feet. Again the black wand is pointed, with a bit more confidence this time, at the charging centipede-thing. The effect is almost instant now, the creature stopping dead in it's tracks a moment before bursting into a chaotic black flame that not only envelops the monster, but covers the shadow it casts on the ground as well.

Dami didn't even know what she was doing here anymore. Obviously saving Vailkrin from the end of the world, but really- what reason beyond that? She hated this city. She hated Kasyr. She hated Kasyr for wanting to save this city. One could say it was the Coterie, or more specifically Kirien and Svilfon (who she still needed to punch), and that sense of protection. Maybe she was just answering Hallowed's call, making sure to take heed of the Kensai's warning. Hell, maybe she just wanted to protect her tailor.. because god damnit she wanted that coat! Whatever the reason, fact of the matter was Dami was in the thick of it just like everyone else. Her reappearance towards the town's square was somewhat cryptic; trails of entrails drug messily against the top of the cobblestone road, tangled like a sordid ball of fishing line at the tip of her black halberd. Even that drug in her wake, held lazily in one hand by the lowest point in the shaft, the sound of of metal grinding with an echo- lost in the chaos of war. Even the cigarette between her lips was broken and bent in half. Gore-stained, clothing-ripped, and tear-stained eyeliner painted a picture of dispair- something in her temporary absence had gone terribly wrong; stupid wyvern.. "Kasyr.. point me towards our priority."

Eldgrimr ::: The battle rages on all fronts. Air, ground level, and even subterranean sewer conflicts abound! Eldgrimr has slain two abominations which now lie unceremoniously nearby. But the roaring berserker does not pause to celebrate such meager kills. From the sky a mass of flesh drops from the portal above. Eldgrimr's vision is clouded by a bloody rage, and could not make out the features of this creature, even if it were closer to the ground when the warrior notices it. A flash of dark steel and fur launches a few feet into the air, adrenaline levels now soaring, and the warrior extends the weapon to it's full length, the spherical lump of a monster being pierced from beneath. Eldgrimr shouts obscenities as guts pour onto his wolf-fur pelt, and onto the man's face. But even a foul odor from Hell cannot stop a murderous reaver such as he. Supporting the rest of it's weight with the thrust of his shield, Eldgrimr swings both arms, and his body weight to the left, altering the direction of their fall, the creature falling more-so beneath, than above by the time that the two hit the ground, with the berserker on top, and the spear plunged into the abomination, and partly the ground where the spear penetrated it's body completely to the other end. Tearing the weapon from it's mesh of a corpse, Eldgrimr screams some inaudible war cry and charges another foe..

Iintahquohae wandered ahead blindly in the dark, but unlike Kirien, she couldn't feel and see what was around her. Any sounds that triggered a color to her brain and field of vision were noted, however. The drips she assumed were typical with a sewer rang silver. Speckles that glimmered over the lenses of her glasses really. That thudding from above is an annoying shade of maroon and orange. Creaks from the stone were green, the sound of her clicking boots a lemony yellow. Kirien's were the same. These were safe colors. Familiar colors. The seamstress tightly clutched to the chair's legs while she rounded a corner. One of the sets of yellow dashes faded away, indicating to Inks that she and Kirien were separated now. Her eyes squinted at the pitch darkness ahead of her. Just as her foot lifted to continue on, a veritable wall of luminous, sickeningly orange colored eyes snapped open directly ahead of her, with a maw that looked big enough to chomp her head clean off directly in the center. What she can't see is the tiny, gnome-sized body this giant 'head' is attached to, and once it begins to scurry toward her Inks' terrified screams can be heard echoing throughout the sewer. The seamstress flees in the opposite direction as the thing gives chase, blindly traversing the network of sewers beneath the city and most likely getting very lost in the process.

Kasyr peels himself off the ground, if only to momentarily lean back against the bone-white sphere. That doesn't really last long, given the moment he makes contact he immediately springs away from it, seemingly wary of an imminent attack. With none forthcoming, due to it's continued immoblity, and the 'centipede-thing' currently in the process of immolating- the kensai simply starts to move towards the abode that had it's roof caved in just moments prior. "Dami. Good to see you back, We're doing some house cleaning." Shishi is addressed as well, the Kensai making a brusque beckoning motion, "Finish up et follow along." That attended to, the Kensais pace begins to pick up until he's entered a full-on sprint. Only briefly is that mad-dash interrupted, as the Kensai nears an abberation that looks reminiscent of an ape- were an ape to lack skin, a definable head, and have arms near the size of it's central mass. Ducking in low, the Revenants momentum is redirected by means of a pivot, both Katana's flicked up in a diagonal arc that tears into and -through- it's left leg, then continues up across it's torso and along it's arm. Mid-stride the thing lurches, suddenly forced to use it's arms to support itself up due to the lack of a leg. Kasyr doesn't even miss a beat, continuing the pivot full circle, before both Katana's are drawn straight down across the brutes body, with such force that it's neatly cut in twain. Before gravity even has time to exert it's pull upon the newly made carcass, the Kensai draws his arms outwards, shoving the severed halves of the beast in either direction, as he continues to the house. It's only when he's outside the door that he glances up towards the roof. "So, If anyone wants a boost to the roof, I can give one- but I'm taking the door, just so tu know." Even as the Kensai takes a moment to muse on the fact that there still -is- a door, another Spherical mass of scale begins to plummet from the sky, poised to crash down into the square.

Shishi puffs out his cheeks slightly, holding his breath, not that breathing was really necessary, as the fumes from the burning monster waft towards him. When he shakes his wand holding left hand any that care to look will be able to notice a thin shadow extending from the butt of the magical weapon and coiling around the vampire's wrist, effectively fusing the chaotic wand to Blue for the time being. With a slow wave of his unconstrained right arm the shadow that Shishi himself casts on the blood soaked ground peels itself up from the stone street. The Blue Demon heeds Kasyr's call and starts towards the building after the Revenant, the risen silhouette breaks into a sprint beside the cursed assassin and rather quickly begins to change it's shape, gaining tangible form and growing to mimic that of the centipede like beast that has just recently been ignited. Blue runs right past the impact point of the latest sphere of scales while the animated shadow doesn't bother to wait for the ball to unfurl before coiling around it and biting, and clawing with all the ferocity the creature it was mimicking had shown moments before.

Iintahquohae didn't see the tiny bit of raised cobblestone on the ground as she continued to run from that wall of eyes and singular mouth, and her screams come to an abrupt halt after a final shriek as she falls into the chair in her hands. Her weight pressed into the back of the chair and the weight of the thing pressing behind her combined, crush the chair into chunks and tiny splinters, several of which get lodged into her hands. Any attempt to pick herself up and continue fleeing is rendered useless as she feels a sharp pain shooting up her leg. Twisting her body awkwardly, she rolls onto her back and props her upper half up by the elbows, and that thing's orange eyes light up the area around her enough to see that the teeth lining that its mouth have begun to shred through her boots and pant leg, and were now beginning to make shallow cuts through her flesh in a multitude of thin, long lines that went from her foot to her kneecap. Just as she started to try pulling her leg out of the wide mouth, it clamps around her leg and starts to drag her along the ground. Inks' hands scramble to grab onto something solid to keep her in place, but all she can reach is bits of broken chair and splinters. Her other leg kicks furiously at the creature, puncturing a few massive eyes and generally pissing the it off even more than it already had to be. She cries out and flails, flinging what bits of the broken chair still remained in her hands at the thing's eyes which only succeed in making it angrier and thrash her about like a dog's chew toy on the ground. One of the thrashing movements sends Inky airborne she slams into the creature's 'face', if you could call a mass of flesh covered in eyeballs a face, and the sickening crack of bone can be heard. Her leg is essentially bent backward to the point where it snaps, and yet another agonizing scream bounces off the sewer walls. In a pain filled and furious rage, Inks shoves her splinter covered hands into the nearest pair of eyeballs and begins trying to pop each and every one she can get her hands on like they're gigantic pieces of bubble wrap. Her unbroken leg dangles uselessly midair, kicking out occasionally to try and kick out a few glowing eyes as well.

Eldgrimr seems unstoppable! Unkillable! Such is the illusion of the berserker. But psychological warfare is useless against these abominations which think only with a single purpose: Kill everything in sight. Eldgrimr's spear is jutted forward as he rushes towards another humanoid figure. It's arms are long, it's skin a ruddy pink, and at the end of lengthy fingers dangle sharp talons of 'unbreakable' substances. The berserker is hardly conscious of his movements now, but instinct can be as strong as thought. Ducking low, the warrior slides on the smooth gravel, his dark-steel spear still outstretched, and his momentum brings an inevitable collision! The spear eviscerates the beast, it's point penetrating the groin area. Though Eldgrimr's shield manages to avert one clawed hand from retaliating, the other hand of the abomination rakes against the weredog's spear arm, causing immediate bleeding. The berserker roars with pain, and simultaneously trips on a large stone, beginning a frontward somersault, with his injured limb still clinging to the spear. Enough momentum remains that the flip completes, and the warrior lands on his back, the dying creature bleeding on the ground north of him, the spear lodged into it, with Eldgrimr's outstretched arms never hinting at letting go of the death grip. Kasyr sounds for a movement towards some building, or other, and the berserker only senses to follow his 'squad leader' at this point, nevermind whatever tactical advantage is being employed. Rising with a grunt, the frenzied warrior ignores his painful laceration, and follows Kasyr's voice.

Dami didn't even bother to check it over, or confirm the exact reason and meaning for his orders. She simply followed them, at her own pace of course. The halberd, that poorly abused and exploited weapon was lazily tossed up into the air with an underhand swing from her right arm, and right arm only; virtually weightless in her possession. It flipped gracefully through the air and landed head-first in the cobblestone road- feet from the sphere that Shishi's shadow? was tearing apart. Seconds later Dami came sprinting full force at the weapon, using its angled point to ramp herself up and into the air, flipping forward to grab the tip while she could. Following through, the elf used every bit of momentum and strength she could muster to come down hard, smashing the halberd's axe-tip blade against the very crown of the ivory ball of what-in-the-hell. "The Blue Demon.. the hell are you doing here?" Her hit was explosive and violent, hardly 'crippling' to the scaled exterior, but strong enough to crack a few. Perhaps it was time to put a little more 'oomph' into it..

Kasyr can't help but chime in at this point, his head tilting towards Shishi, "He's coven. Just so you know. Anyways- I'll leave this to you, then. If it's not hostile, drop it in the sewer or something, then follow." With that said, the Kensai nudges open the door to the house, and begins to slip inside. Within the building, a pungent scent of mold, mildew and copper clots the air. With a frown the revenant begins to venture in further, eyes flicking about the main room of the edifice. Where were the soldiers? Both the doors and windows were intact, and yet no troops were present to greet them- only an unnatural silence, and the creak of the house itself. Even the chaos outside seemed to be drowned out. With a shake of his hand, the Kensai begins to ascend the stairs towards the second floor. Back in the square... Between the tenebrous 'centi-thingy' gnawing on the scaly shell and Dami's vicious strike, it was only a matter of time before the shell began to stir. With startling swiftness, the scales upon that spherical 'shell' begin to pop up- each one revealing itself to be a razor-keen chunk of material roughly the size of one's palm. Layer by layer, those ridges reveal themselves, if only to begin unfurling, that sphere segmenting apart into a number of tendrils. Within the thicket of those appendages rests a jelly like core, one large bulbous eye floating with a sac of mucous yellow ooze. Small droplets of liquid drip down from that fetid sac, small trails of smoke hissing off the ground, from where the corrosive liquid lands. Elsewhere in the square, the secondary shell begins to unfurl as well.

Wakka shouted, "Screeeeeeeeeeeech!"

Wakka 's entrance into the area is something that's a little odd; it's heralded by the loud, piercing screech that could only be harkened from the maw of an animal that eats rocks. That is, it can only be from Shishi's pet bat... Wakka.

Iintahquohae continues to kick and flail, punching at any eyeball within arm's reach. She's covered with ruptured, glowing eye-goo now, which provides a slippery means of extracting her leg from that tooth-lined hole. It's both a blessing and a curse, however. As her mangled leg slips out, it's cut more and causes more waves of pain to ripple through Inks. She shudders and presses herself against the fleshy monster as its thrashing stops, and it begins to run at the speed of a galloping horse toward the far wall. It appears that since the monster can't devour her leg now, it's going to simply flatten her between the wall and its eye-filled face. Her hands scramble to grab at the somewhat emptied eye sockets so she can climb up onto the creature's head, but her broken leg leaves her slightly immobile. With it bent at the wrong angle, Inks can't see herself climbing up much further on the makeshift, mobile eye-socket ladder. With reluctance for the pain this is going to cause, she presses her uninjured leg against the monster's face to brace it at the ankle, and she attempts to throw her weight against it so the broken bones bend inward, and almost back into place. It takes a good five painful tries before she hears and feels the bone shift to a less gruesome angle, and the seamstress sluggishly begins her awkward one-legged climb to the top of the monster's head. Iintahquohae's hands find the top and frantically grab for handfuls of flesh to pull herself up and on top of the thing, and she decides to hang on for dear life at the top while that thing continues to run headlong into the wall. What Inks doesn't know is that she's essentially on top of a gigantic eyeball-covered, toothy flesh ball filled with pus. When it impacts with the uneven rocks stone of the sewer wall, it ruptures, dropping her from the ceiling to the sewage and pus-covered floor below. As nasty as it is, it cushions her fall a bit, leaving Inks in a shallow pool of pus, sewage, and covered in glowing orange ooze. She really needed to crawl her way out of there somehow. The twitching, headless gnome-like body of the pus-head creature rolls toward her, and Inks rests her elbow against it in effort to boost herself up a bit.

Eldgrimr follows Kasyr into the building, his wrath having calmed down significantly, and his body starting to feel heavy due to the sudden decrease of adrenaline, and his body's shock at realized how exhausted it truly is. But Eldgrimr presses on, spear in one hand, shield in the other, "What do we do next? The fight rages on outside and the enemy is no less than it was when we began. Are they limitless?"

Wakka narrows its beady red eyes at Shishi.

Shishi cracks a smile for the first time since arriving at this chaotic scene. The sprinting vampire slows to a near stop to address Dami and probably to train his focus on the monstrosity he's transformed his shadow into, an attempt to stop the feral thing from switching targets to the elf that's brought herself down onto the shade's current prey. "Someone once told me I could always come home... They didn't mention anything about it raining guts. You know?" is The Blue Demon's response to Dami. The concussive force that cracked the scales of the abominable sphere has presented Shishi's shadow with a prime opportunity, one more enticing than turning on the elf. Suddenly the centipede shaped darkness stops it's ferocious assault and liquefies, seeping up the sphere and into the cracks opened up by the impact of the blade. Once inside the shell the shadow will regain solid form, that of hundreds of flesh eating insect-like things that tear at whatever is vulnerable inside the shell, literally softening it up from the inside. This is probably the last straw that causes the sphere to open and reveal it's true form. The acid the monster drips dissolves a few of the shadowy insects and their remains can be seen floating like vapor through the air to finally rest on the ground by Shishi, beginning to reform the silhouette they were created from. The loud screeching creature flying in is met with the usual look of disdain Blue usually holds for the bat, "Do something useful, at least!" is his shout to the pest. Meanwhile the remaining dark insects still intact on the tentacled beast's body group up and meld slowly into the shape of a fairly large scorpion that traverses the back of the creature heading straight for it's singular eye intent on stinging the cyclops blind. Between the second sphere unwrapping itself and Wakka's appearance Blue hardly takes notice when Kasyr enters the building behind him and doesn't seem concerned with going in after him just yet.

Wakka prose-stomps; his little, almost rubbery-looking frame divebombs into the fray, aiming to strike the tentacled beast's body in a kamikaze attack. It isn't as if the bat could explode or anything -Wakka aimed to cling on to whatever it could, shell or otherwise, and begin eating.

Wakka said to Shishi, "Screeech!"

Kasyr finishes climbing the stairs, and then -stops-. Suffice to say, he's found the soldiers, or rather, what's left of them. Strewn about the second floor of the residence are a number of dessicated husks- some scattered along the floor, some broken in half, and even a couple that are embedded into the wall, as though propelled by great force. At the end of a hallway lies a great behemoth, so massive that even the attic had given way beneath it's weight. Composed of thick, rubbery flesh so blue it's nearly black, the creature lay entrenched within the hall, It's girth having effectively wedged it into place. Every so often, the creature stirs, the featureless, slug-like body sending a ripple through the upper floors, and causing the house to creak. Raising one finger to his lips, the Revenant signals Eldgrimr to be silent, and moves to advance. And then finds himself quite unable. It's a feeling that Kasyr has become -far- too familiar with over the last few weeks, that dreadful sensation of an invisible force coiling about ones limbs with great strength, and hindering him from moving. No doubt it was telekinesis, one of the Myriad fortes of the vampires of House Kikei, though this particular iteration of the ability seemed to emanate from the beast. Eldgrimr, too, would find himself subject to this perilous assault- lest he have some means of avoiding that terrible psionic emanation- the pair of them to be immoblized, if only so that it could slowly lift them up into the air, and gradually begin to draw them towards it's mass. Once one of them was within 10 feet of the creature, the front of it's face would begin to tear open with a sickly rending noise, a dripping cavern full of spines and tendrils presented to the pair. Tendrils, which even then, began to slowly extend outwards to greet the Kensai and weredog. Suffice to say, it's understandable that the Revenants expression, his very being, seems to be giving off a particular dark feeling- as though the shadows about his form had become liquid, each one exuding a primal urge for murder.

Eldgrimr ::: The Berserker knows a 'silence' signal when it's given, his lips, and every muscle in his body coming to a halt. Eldgrimr freezes tightly, not daring to move even a finger, caution overpowering his desire to fight again. But it isn't long before the weredog realizes that his cease of movement was not his own doing, but the will of something else, and it isn't going to merely hold Kasyr, and himself in place either. A more devious fate awaits them unless Kasyr has something up his sleeve. Now at the mercy of the monstrosity, Eldgrimr, a mere warrior, knows not a spell, or ward to interrupt the psionic power at work here, and waits for whatever destiny lies within the next few moments.

Iintahquohae began the painful and sluggish crawl toward an exit, wherever that may be. There was no way that she could backtrack; while fleeing from that thing the last thing on her mind was trying to memorize the various turns she made. Thankfully, she had light from the glowing orange stuff that covered her. Luckily, the woman passes what remained of that chair she brought down with her, and grabs the largest looking chunk of it her hand can drag along while she continues crawling. If anything else decided to surprise her, hopefully she might be able to keep it back with that. Her eyes occasionally jump upward, in hopes that there might be a ladder to one of the holes that lead to the surface, but none could be made out in the dark, despite how illuminated she currently was. This also, unfortunately for the seamstress, made her a very easy target even if you didn't combine it with the broken leg. She didn't feel it initially, but something bony and serpentine was slithering underneath her. Several of them. Whatever the snake things are, they begin interweaving with one another, and Iintahquohae starts to notice the distinct lack of floor she's crawling on top of as they lift her. "Sh-" Before she can react, her body is shoved right through the ceiling of the sewer, which conveniently enough is softer, less painful (still pretty damn painful) than stone and also the ground floor of the building Kas and the others were currently in. She emerges from the newly formed hole in the floor with a the sound of flying wooden planks and a groan of pain to announce her presence, and Inks rolls off of the strange bone snakes that flail about for a moment before sinking back down into the sewer below. Now on the surface again and a bit winded, she remains on her back for a long moment before bothering to try sitting up.

Shishi turns his attention to the second unfurling sphere of tentacles and starts walking confidently towards it, looking to gain the monster's attention. Meanwhile the first beast is occupied by the bat biting and scratching at it, tentacles writhing and flailing to try and knock the black beast off, and the shadowy scorpion that has made it's way through the forest of disgusting appendages to the creature's eye/sac. The dark stinger pierces into the bulbous sphere. Instead of venom the shadows making up the scorpion itself are injected and one can see, starting from the claws, the black shadow being sucked though it's own stinger and into the eyeball. Once the entire shadow is injected it becomes unstable, thrashing and expanding violently until the single eye and mucus sac burst with enough force to send the acidic ooze spraying a few meters in every direction. By then Shishi has broken into a run towards the second tendril composed abomination, shadows from beneath body parts that litter the road swirling to life and chasing after the vampire, congregating around his wand holding left hand and taking the form of a ridiculously massive fist, roughly three quarters the size of the rest of Blue's body. It is a tremendous punch that The Blue Demon lunges into the monster with and it is tremendous shock that appears on the assassin's face when it is stopped dead by the mass of tentacles, the slithering appendages wrapping around the shadowy, giant hand just before flinging the over sized fist and the man attached to it straight up into the air nearly twenty feet. The shadows vacate the assassin's arm and dart through the air down towards his landing spot behind the creature that threw him. Shishi's impact is soft, albeit awkward, as he lands face and arms first into the black mass that had taken up a soft, springy consistency to break Blue's fall.

Dami backs off when the acidic blood of the shell-type creature hisses away at the cobblestone road. What's left of it, anyways. Giving up and simply accepting the fact she was going to-- and boy did she --get dirty was one thing; subjecting herself to corrosive black ichor that served as blood, was another. She had back off long before the Demon's shadow relentlessly assaulted the shell-fiend from the inside out, and found herself edging up against one of the several severly damaged shops. She had went this far, no reason to stop now. One after another, the broken chunks of walls, and slabs of the street were physically lifted up and thrown like a disc. Dami dearly hoped no one was in the way of the projectiles, because she wasn't paying attention. Much.

Wakka continues gnawing and gnashing, and eating his way into the big evil tentacle creature.

Kasyr||Outside, the pandemonium continued! The squid-like shelled entity, referred to as a Squelch from hereon in, that's had it's underbelly exploded- doesn't quite -die- from the resulting trauma. Instead, that entity begins to flail with it's unnaturally durable tendrils in all directions, blindly engaging in a rampaging dance of destruction some 20 feet in diameter. Every so often, a tendril reaches up to try and ensnare the bat burrowing through it's shell; an action which it finds itself promptly distracted from whenever a Dami-borne projectile slams into it, sending it skidding back a few paces. It's only after the fourth that it's movements become organized, the entity abruptly surging towards the Coterie members position with an unnatural alacrity. The other Squelch is faring -far- better. Having just finished tossing Shishi off to the side, it begins to make chase, albeit in a somewhat circuitous manner. It's only when it's path takes it by a lamppost when the reasoning becomes apparent, as it wrenches the item out of the ground- and promptly hurls it forward in an attempt to spear Shishi to the ground. Whether or not the assault makes contact, it's close behind, with every intention of ensnaring the vampire so it can rend him limb from limb, and eventually dunk him into the acid pouch which serves as it's stomach.

Ranok || Twang. A rush of air. And a wooden object the size of a fairly respectable tree buries itself in something or other. The creature in the square, flailing all ugly-like but not quite dead takes the projectile dead on. Of course, supernatural toughness being what it was, it wasn't enough to kill it. Two more thuds resound as two more twangs can be heard, along with heavy stomping as the trio of monsterous, but humanoid, figures approach. Tentacles writhe in discomfort and pain. Such impacts weren't easy for just anything to take, and this was no exception. But yet, it was merely dying slowly, not dead, which is probably why the black powder charges ignite from the flint impact shoddy detonators and erupt into a flare of fire, explosion, and grisly bits. It was safe to say that the calvary had arrived. Three hulking figures, ten feet tall or more, in the rough shape of a man. Squat, lacking a head, and ablaze in runes that glowed pale blues, greens, and reds splotchly. The constructs were partially imcomplete, called to service. Armor and protective covers were missing here and there. These runes moved, surging with light as the limb they were on did, as well. The runes were on what looked like pipes, sliding back and forth, connected to a rigid metal skeletal structure. If they were studied, it'd be obvious: it was an emulation of muscles. One rune pushed, the other rune pulled, and in proper conjunction made it move. These things were stomping, smashing, and pulverizing anything in their path in a sort of serene rampage. Nothing completely organic would be able to emulate the process quite so smoothly, nor would they be so jerky in the execution. Limbs weren't quite as limber as one might have liked, and a complete lack of sensory input from a large space around made it incredibly difficult to identify threats as they came. Three fingered hands, one with an enormous ballista that cranked with a spring that fed another bolt into the weapon, and the other carrying a large slab of metal that could barely be called a sword, grasped at things that clung to their surface and skin, ripping the flailing creatures free. The results were predictably messy, splatters of ichor, acid, gore, and actual human blood all over the things. Chicken toed feet in digigrade, the only stable method to make such a construct without a sense of innate balance that all creatures had, stomp into the cobblestones and mud, equally splattered. They only moved forward, another aspect of limberness lost. Turning was a several step process, as the feet couldn't turn, and the waist was near rigid, making the process generally more troublesome then it was worth. Leather covers dangled here and there, an obvious attempt at protection where there was metal lacking, but torn away in the long slog to rescue the foolish group stranded in the middle of Vailkrin. Three faces peer out from enchanted glass viewplates, which were theoretically meant to repel the gore and mud of battle, but were doing a poor job of it. A young looking man, smoking a cigarette in a leather jacket. A woman, who would be pretty if her face wasn't in the middle of a blood lustful warcry. And a scarred and weathered face everyone knew and loved (but mostly really hated). Stomping their way to the square, one of the constructs reaches out and imitates the sphere's trick with the lampost, wrenching it free. Instead of throwing it, however, it them proceeds to beat the ever living snot out of the writhing, dying, exploded creature until it stopped moving and was so much mash. And thus did the infamous Doorknockers make their entrance into the fray.

Dami to the rescue! She may have been keeping back as far as possible, but that didn't mean she was avoiding the situation all together. When the first of the shelled creations.. the 'squelch'.. charged her as fast as it did, Dami didn't think. She ran. Not so much as an act of cowardice, but spontanious heroism; all attention was on that lamp post hurdling straight for Shishi. With daring speed, she not only ditched the 'squelch', but put herself in the direct line of trajectory. The Blue Demon was given a hearty shove, pushed out of the way, and one of her custom-made gloves put to use. The ghroundim disc in the palm of her glove served as a barrier for the tip of the post, bending it in and taking away its lethality. The momentum however was left alone and because of so the elf went flying. From the back first, Dami smashed through every body, post, rock and whatever else littered the streets before coming to a rough tumble back at the center of the square. Coincidentaly, she was also at the edge of the sewers broken entrance. That was the last time she'd take a bullet for Shishi; the rest were on him.

Kasyr stares into the yawning abyss of the creatures mouth, at the way it's rubbery skin ripples with anticipation. Immobolized as he is, he can do little as it continues to extend those thread like appendages from within it's maw- grimacing internally, as the barbed flesh coils about his limbs. Now drawn by a combination of it's telekinetic prowess, and those tortuous tendrils- the revenant finds his journey towards spine like ridges that coat it's mouth -far- more expeditious than before. With soundless glee, that bestial maw parts as wide as the hallway itself, before it swiftly comes crashing down upon the Revenants person- a discordant combination of shattering and crunching ringing out through the air. Again, and again, that ravenous maw comes crashing down, bits of spine and ichor flying in all directions. By this point, even Eldgrimr could likely discern that there was something quite amiss with this scenario, especially given that the Revenant is currently coated in a rapidly thickening aura of bleak energy, as though the night itself is coalescing about his form. Try as it might, that malicious monstrosity seemed unable to pierce that caliginous coating..nor capable of stopping the Kensai from exerting his will upon it. Like some liquid nightmare, that darkness continues to grow and expand, countless serpentine shapes rising out from it- gouging into the 'lampreys' flesh and tearing out miniature mouthfuls all along its' insides. More and more begin to form out from the Revenants body, some twining together to begin forming larger serpents as they continued to ravage the creatures interior. Somewhere along the lines, it's capacity for maintaining it's telekinetic hold falters, both Eldgrimr and Kasyr finding themselves released to the floor- it's sole offense coming in the form of one more desperate bite aimed for the vampires head. Unforunately for it, by this time- Kasyr's rapidly-expanding aura entirely occupied it's mouth, it's attempt at closing it's jaw meeting with a gruesome rending of flesh as it's maw is forced wider and wider, until it finally begins to split apart. With a certain authorative brusqueness, the Kensai pulls his arm back- those myriad serpents withdrawing to his form, writhing in unison as though each one bore some primal form of sentience. The beast gurgles, the only sound it's made during this entire episode- before the Kensai extends his hand outwards. Seamlessly, that gathering of shadowy serpents surge forward, diving into the beasts shadow, if only to begin melding with it and each other. More and more, the darkness begins to bubble and pool- a shift that even seems to be mirrored by Kasyr's flesh, as a familiar set of obsidian scale marks begin to pock mark his hands. Than, all at once, his hand surges upwards- and with it comes a beast of shadow. A grim, nightmarish serpent that draws the 'Lamprey' up in it's jaws- tearing it up through the remains of the buildings attic and roof, before it promptly rends it and half. And just as swiftly, it dissipates, leaving Kasyr to clutch at a now partially scaled over right arm, as both halves of the now -very- dead creature land on either side of the house.

Eldgrimr ::: It is with wonder that Eldgrimr watches the creature's end. Something amiss? That is quite an understatement. Hailing from an isolated village to the far northwest of Frostmaw, the berserker has never seen such magic, nor ever imagined it. Kasyr emerges from the lamprey's debacle feast unharmed. By this time Eldgrimr is in a heap upon the floor, shield, and spear not far from him. Standing slowly, a slow nod is given to the revenant, "I've never see such power. You saved our rears no doubt."

Shishi seemed to have been more or less frozen in place, arms held up in an 'X' in front of his face as the projectile approached, the wand tied to his arm pointing upward towards the sky. It is more than likely that Dami had just saved the Blue Demon's skin and he probably owed the elf a beer now for that. Skidding shoulder first to the ground after the forceful shove the vampire rolls over to watch the destruction Dami's rock solid form causes through crimson eyes that seem to have gone through yet another change. A red mist, lighter than air seeps slowly from the accursed irises. The shadows attached to the black wand in his left hand have coiled all the way up Blue's arm to his shoulder and the appendage merely dangles lifelessly at his side, apparently useless for the time being. This doesn't seem to deter the Blue Demon however as he pushes himself up to his feet from the sloppy ground, a sliver of darkness rising up from the ground to bat away a dismembered arm or leg that comes falling form the sky. Again shadows from around the area begin to congregate around the vampire who's expression is almost enough to stop the charging mass of tentacles in it's tracks. Thin panes of shadow, unconsciously directed by the cursed vampire float up above his head and catch the acidic gore splattered about by the brutal constructs that had just arrived. Deliberately the assassin takes a single step forward towards the charging beast and immediately as his foot hits the ground, those shadows spring forth in thin, almost two-dimensional, slices of darkness, preposterously sharp and given solid form by Shishi's family's curse. Tentacles are sent flying in every direction as the shadows cut through in a relentless assault that ends with Blue standing in an oddly illuminated spot on the road due to dispelling all the darkness that had gathered in the attack, and the creature rolling to a stop at the Blue Demon's feet, all but two of it's numerous tentacles severed from it's bulbous stomach and eye and strewn across the fountain area. Shishi stands over the flopping stomach gasping for breath he didn't need and his right hand clutching at his immobilized left arm the eerie red mist still floating upwards from his eyes like weightless crimson tears.

Iintahquohae is still on her back in an uncomfortable heap at the ground floor of the house, and can hear something going on upstairs. With a groan, she props herself up on her elbows, and shouts at the ceiling above. It probably wasn't the smartest thing to do, but she kind of can't go too far with her leg. "Hey! Anybody friendly up there?" the seamstress calls, then attempts to pull herself up on one foot. Her hands find what remained of an overturned table nearby to brace themselves upon as she pulls herself up. After a stream of swears pour from her lips when she accidentally puts weight on her broken leg, Inks wobbles around the chair a bit and finds against the closest bit of wall her body can lean upon. Using it as a means of keeping her upright, Iintahquohae begins to traverse the room and reach the stairs, or the door. Whichever came first.

Kasyr jams his swords down into the wood of the second floor, if only to begin flexing his fingers- something he'd been unable to do, due to the telekinetic hold he'd been under. It also provides him a bit of stolen time to observe her right hand, where those ominous obsidian scales had all but faded from view- having returned to mere ink upon the Revenants flesh. With an almost imperceptible sigh of relief, the Kensai takes up his swords once more, if only to begin ambling down the stairs. Eldgrimr is offered a simple, "I aim to please, et all that." before the Vampiric Swordsman simply continues downstairs. Almost immediately, he takes note of Iintahquohae, a look of befuddlement crossing his features for a moment. Continually drawing a blank on her name, the Kensai instead pretends to get distracted by something outside- an action that at once let's him get a grasp of the current situation, whilst simultaneously giving him a reason to stall. To no avail. Finally, the Kensai finally chimes in with, "Hey. Stitch." A glance is directed her way, to make sure she gets the picture, "What happened? Et where's Kirien?"

Dami couldn't remember the last time she had the wind knocked out of her. Quietly she rolled from her side onto hands and knees, and crawled off towards the broken opening in the sewer. Admittedly, she needed a moment to regain her composure.. or at least catch her breath. Not like she needed it.. vampire and all.. she just needed a moment to recover. Dipping over the edge of the broken stone, the elf relaxed for a minute or two. It stunk in here.

Ranok kinda tools about, since the people he came to rescue apparently didn't need it. <_<

Iintahquohae liked that name. Stitch. She glances out the door and makes a frustrated groan. That stuff really wasn't going to let up any time soon, was it. She offered a pained half smile, then jabbed a trembling pointer finger at the hole in the floor. "Somewhere down there. " With a pause, she brushed some sticky black curls from her face, cringing when she found that the orange goo's glowing effect still hadn't worn off completely yet. Her finger then pointed at her useless, bloody and broken leg. "I almost got swallowed. It's broken." She squinted a bit at the portion of her spectacles that was previously covered by her hair. A crack was in the lens. Well. Dammit.

Eldgrimr gathers his weapon and shield before following Kasyr's lead. Once descended, the man watches the two converse, but his thoughts are elsewhere, namely why his wounds do not look so bad now. Why is he so vigorous? Two days ago he had nothing close to this sort of physical prowess, granted he wasn't weak before, but it's as if he's experienced the reaping of several years experiences over the past two days, ever since that damned dog bit him. The talking dog. The man puzzles over these thoughts for a moment while waiting for instructions. He's never been a leading sort of man so far in his life and simply fights where directed most of the time.

Shishi tip-toes slowly around the immobilized formerly tentacled monster. Scraps of shadows on the ground seemed to be taking great pleasure in torturing the crippled beast, taking pointed forms and poking holes in the membrane surrounding the acidic ooze and the creature's eye. Blue ignores the black entities he seems to have lost control of, some of the mischievous shadows attempting to spread out like clotheslines and trip up the Doorknockers. His 'heroine' had fallen out of sight and the vampire was running out of reasons to stay in the path of the constructs that were cleaning up remaining beasts quite effectively. The Blue Demon shakes his head, trying to get rid of the stars he was seeing after being knocked around so much. Now which building was he supposed to follow Kasyr into? Black voices only audible to Blue lead him the wrong direction, further east than the Revenant was... Perhaps the accursed assassin would find his way to the Thorne Estate after all...

Ranok || In the square, the constructs were making a right royal mess. The blood fountain, repaired as it was, was utterly devastated a second time as a metallic foot stomps it, crushing through stone and anything else in an attempt to turn around to face another airborne monster. The things were holding up fairly solidly, gore clogging the inner workings but the strain of the unclogged mechanics freeing them up. There was a great deal of horrendous groaning and grinding as they did this, along with the clang of metal meeting stone as they cleave. The occasional twang of a ballista firing. The bolts were being mostly conserved for the things flying or to soften targets, as there simply weren't many that could be packed into a clip around the arm and mechanisms. Working to clear a section of Vailkrin, they were pushing monsters and corpses, along with debris, to free up the field. Handy things to be sure, but slow progress, and certainly not flashy in the least.

Kasyr begins to glance around, before he finally returns his attention to Inky, a mild look of concern having creeped across his features, "Well. Kirien's alive. I can tell that much. ...Et bien, I don't see Dami- so I think you're in luck, Stitch." Pursing his lips, the revenant strides over towards the seamstress, if only to tentatatively reach out a hand towards her wounded leg. Before proceeding, however, he takes the time to simply mutter, "May I? I believe I can help. Somewhat. Though, if I can- I'd appreciate if you never mention this to anyone." With that little preamble out of the way, the Revenant moves his fingers closer to her leg and begins to concentrate. Though unnoticeable at first, a dull light would slowly begin to form about Kasyr's hands- the likes of which seems to herald a simple pleasent note. So long as Iintahquohae doesn't move to halt the Revenants motions, that light will continue to grow in intensity, just as that noise becomes more complex, and fluid. In essence, it is a manifestation of those boons that the Ascendi Daedria had personally bestowed onto Kasyr, when she made him her champion, her paladin. Though the Revenant lacks the knowledge and prowess to properly repair the limb, this application of 'divine' energies should serve to staunch what bleeding is currently occuring. It Whether or not it would serve to at partially rectify Inkys leg injury was another matter entirely.

Eldgrimr stands witness to yet another hidden talent of the revenant, yet is, at this point in time, quite unsurprised considering the earlier feat with the lamprey. The unfortunately ignorant weredog unconsciously begins to rapidly scratch behind his right ear with the same sided hand, the brisk action relieving whatever the cause had been. Were one to catch the motion, it would seem out of character for most normally behaved individuals. However Eldgrimr is clueless to the incident and will remain so unless directed to its' happening by another. Little does the man know, his behavior is going to change even more over the next few days. But now he deems it necessary to approach the Kensai inquisitively, "What's the plan as of now?"

Ranok said, "Kill everydink."

Iintahquohae felt lucky to be alive after her adventure in the sewers. A curious brow lofts at Kasyr's request when he strides over, but she gives a quick nod. She just wanted to be able to walk properly and for the bleeding to stop. The light is definitely a pleasant change from the blood, gore and sewage she's received and eyeful of so far, and can't help frowning once it dissipates. She remains still until the revenant is finished, then tries to put some weight on the leg. The ball of her foot presses against the floor and immediately backs off of it when that annoyingly familiar pain shoots up it. At least she wasn't bleeding any more. "Thanks," she eventually says, with a wince. She could probably find a way to fashion a brace for it with the debris everywhere.

Kasyr said, "I second this plan."

Kasyr , beyond briefly chiming in with what Ranok said, seems more or less focused on Inky. It's only after a few moments contemplation that he finally says, "I can pick you up, or you can use my shoulder for support, but we need to get you where more people are. Ideally, I'll be placing you where other soldiers are posted, while we wait for The Dark Man to come...et well, do what he's going to. Really, I'd take you back to the Corpse, if you wanted." That said, the Kensai gives a glance back towards the town square, which was still dealing with an endless stream of creatures, "The plan, mine at least, es to cycle those who can't fight, or are exhausted, back towards the Hanging corpse, the cemetary, or their respective Vampiric houses, while cycling in fresh troops. Those of us who are capable of fighting will continue to do so."

Iintahquohae wasn't sure what would be best. Being with soldiers probably meant healers were on hand, but the Corpse meant shelter from the onslaught of things raining down from above. Either way, she just wanted to get her leg in something so it would mend properly. "You choose what you think will be best for me," she eventually says, then adds. "And I'll borrow your shoulder, if that's okay." Inks didn't enjoy being picked up and carried.

Ranok || The Doorknockers had given up being nice. The metal slabs that were tenuously to be called swords click home into slots made to support them. And then, like three reaping machines...they begin to swing. Kasyr once buzzsawed his way through zombies, this was something akin to that, only much, much messier.

Eldgrimr has been waiting to hear those very words since the fighting stopped, "Aye now I'm beginning to think that despite our obvious differences, you and I are far more alike, than most would probably assume." He grins and follows their leads. His spear clutched firmly, shield held stalwartly, and eyes sharp, the warrior bewares his surroundings, then marches forward.

Redhale was late to the fray. It wasn't his fault though, he had things to do. It would seem he was relatively successful in those things too, as he meandered up the messy streets with a large tome grasped with both bony hands, the book struggling to wriggle free from the chains that had been wrapped around it. He was more confident with the book, and that feeling could be noted by those he walked past; his aura clung to the landscape more surely, its gentle pressure squeezing innards as much as skin, and the chill of his death being cold enough to almost form a visible frost. He looked upon the sight of his beloved town and spoke with a frown in his grumbling tones, "What's all this then? Stranger, ex-citizens and downright enemies, all making a mess in my streets? I thought you were supposed to have some degree of control over this city, Kasyr." He acted as though he didn't notice, or didn't care about, the slew of abominations that were the ones actually causing the ruckus, "I take a small vacation to recover my spellbook an-" He was cut short as the book in question managed to shrug off one layer of chains and burst free from his grasp, after which it only took a moment to burst into black smoke and vanish once more. The illusionist's speech became a loud run of powerful curses, not the kind that get you sent to your room but the kind that get you flesh-eating diseases and the like. The monsters raining from the sky seemed mostly untouched, but several of Redhale's own men fell down in pain, or became stiff as statues. One even exploded, not that the mess created could be discerned against the slop that already covered the streets, which began to sing themselves with the booming voice of the dark man, "Death it is! Death to all! If it isn't already cold, I want its blood!" So he spoke, his men began to obey If anyone felt particularly unwelcome, and if calming the rage of dead men wasn't one of their skills, now would be the time to put some distance between themselves and Redhale.

Eldgrimr immediately halts upon Redhale's appearance and sudden outburst. A call for the blood of those with beating hearts is not something to stop and ponder. A quick backpedaling is in short order and does indeed take place on his part. At least a score of feet now lie between himself and the wight.

Ranok wonders if he and his machines could count as 'cold' or not, as the frosty air of Vailkrin and any auras were chilling the metal skin of the exposed workings. Not that he was going to risk it, though any undead goin' pokin' at the Doorknockers would be...diced as well as any abomination.

Kasyr takes the whole of this situation in stride, listening, and staring, and listening some more. By the time that order has rang out into the air, however, it's become painfully obvious that the Kensai has had, "ENOUGH!" Iintahquohae is redirected in that moment, the Kensai using the arm she's leaning upon to scoop her up just long enough to settle her near Eldgrimr, "Watch over Stitch." And just as swiftly, the Kensai disentangles himself, if only so that he can bear down straight towards Redhale. With every step, a sickly black aura begins to coalesce about the Kensai's form, an unpleasent combination of liquid darkness, and erratic sparks which dance in the air. With his right hand resting on a sheathe at his hips, and his left viciously pointed at the wight, the Kensai's outrage is voiced a second time, "ENOUGH!" A breathe, unnecesaryily, is taken, before the Revenant continues, "I have done -my- part. I have been hunting down the remnants of house Kikei. I have been clearing the streets of the aberrations that seeks to kill -both- our people, and our linked to the very thing that would drive -yours- mad. I have done my -utmost- to seek aid, and keep order. BUT I CANNOT DO YOUR PART." Those words crack in the air like a whip, before the Revenant straightens up, and adjusts his vest, "Now, if you'd calm down for a moment, I'd like to address the fact that amongst those people you'd have slaughtered, one of them is a seamstress. Something which, as I recall, you mentioned you might need. Perhaps, rather than ensuring that this situation escalates- on peut essayer- Rather, we can try to stop it. L'arreter. Oui?" Ranok is given a sidelong glance, and should the smith catch it- he'll also catch a look that almost seems to beckon him to still his tongue.

Iintahquohae couldn't really do much in protest when Kasyr lifts her, what with her leg being in bad shape. She heard the figure and others hollering about death very nearby, and shuddered once the revenant put her down. Despite their unpleasant first meeting, she's glad to be near somebody with muscle and a whole lot more strength than she. A half smile is offered to Eldgrimr, and curious eyes wander over to Kasyr and the figure she could only assume had to be the Dark Man, once the word 'seamstress' catches her ear. A hand lifts to brush away more ooze-soaked curls from her face. Aside from that, the woman watches Kasyr and the Dark Man converse.

Redhale would not rescind the order immediately, but his men, being essentially extensions of his own self, would slow their advances on the general populace. Several other undead, unmarked by Redhale's warpaint, would slow on their own accord, but most of them looked thoroughly put out by Kasyr's suggestions; the things falling from the rift did not make for the best sustenance, and there hadn't exactly been a stream of plump children running through town lately, "-My- part is to keep my brethren safe. You're the one banding mind-bending drainers around town. When was the last time a rotter caused this much trouble in Vailkrin?" Several of the undead nearby would grunt approval to this statement, but most everyone present knew that Kasyr and Redhale arguing was probably not good news in any situation, let alone amidst violence and chaos like this. Redhale knew this too, and so while he remained unapologetic he at least resigned himself to assessing the situation beyond his own grimoire-related troubles. First point of call was the proposed seamstress, who would feel the mans attention fall on her like a dead cold weight, squeezing around her features and teasing the air from her lungs, "She's a little… Empty, don't you think? I can't feel the faintest spark of power from her, and bleeding to boot. How can this human be expected to deal with that tear? And I don't exactly have the kind of material we might need just tucked away in my cloak," Even though he sometimes appeared to have damn near everything else in there, "Bring me Ikara and… Her sister, what's her name… They might have -something- we can use."

Eldgrimr nods towards Kasyr slowly and regards Ink for the first time since they left the tavern several hours ago. Although the situation could hardly be considered 'normal' by any stretch of mind, it does get stranger, if one could imagine. Eldgrimr starts to feel a sudden urge to leave Vailkrin immediately, something feral, wild, or downright insane! Though the latter isn't true, that is how the berserker perceives it, as he never flees from -anything- under normal circumstance. It is a behavior spawned from, though unbeknownst to him, his newly acquired canine lycanthropy. Without a word, the man sprints away, leaving Ink, Kasyr, the Dark Man, and his minions there, while some call, or rather warning, of the wilds takes over his mind, and sends him careening out of Vailkrin, much to the convenience of his exhausted player.

Ranok drifts a little closer to the Kensai, though he makes sure there's room between himself and Redhale. The relationship he has with the dark man was already bordering on the antagonistic, and there was no real reason to provoke anything further. Metal and magic might not mix so well, though he really needed to point out the obvious, since no one seemed to be stating it. Bladed arm dripping with all sorts of unmentionable things, and viewport splattered with even more, the construct comes to a momentary rest, runes ebbing, surging, and flowing with power. The glowing stones that served as the main powersource were well protected, especially on Ranok's Doorknocker, which seemed to have a bit more quality then the other ones. As well it should, since he worked on it in his spare time as a sort of project, trying to improve them. So far...little progress, really. That said, the machine leans down a bit so his voice, muffled by the metal, can say, "Not to rain on de parade, but de Tear iz up DERE, und ve are down HERE. De last tinks Hy sav dat got klose to de rift vere Onmade. Und Hy'm not eksactly brimmink vith armored airships here at de moment, Kasyr. Are hyu gunna ask dis seamstress und zumone else to make a noble sacrifice? Do hyu hef zum enchanted needles hidden avay, zumvere, dat kan resist de Entity's vorld encroachink on ours?"

Iintahquohae ;; It's safe to say that Iintahquohae is feeling very, very uncomfortable when Redhale's attention falls upon her. A shiver passes through her and for some reason she feels the need to hold her breath, but his comments about her do strike a nerve. Powerful or not, she did offer to try to lend a hand. "Now you wait just a goddamned minu-" Probably not the best way to talk to him, Inky.. She blinks, clears her throat, then starts again, albeit sheepishly. "Sorry. I already said that I would help, and I've already dealt with all of this so I could see it through. Tell me what I need to do, and like I told him," the seamstress dips her head a bit toward Kasyr, "I'll do what I can." Inks wanted to be given a chance.

Kasyr almost begins to fumble into his coat, but recollection stops him from searching. Instead, his fingers make their way up to the goggles on his head, so that he can draw out a cigarette from beneath the band. A snap of his fingers is all it takes to produce a few errant sparks which, with a bit of patience, is enough to get his smoke lit. Taking a long inhale, the Kensai then turns his attention to the guards, "Go on, get them." It dawns on some of the soldiers, at this point, that the Revenant isn't going to personally retrieve them, as his place in in the thick of things, "She's blood stained. I don't think she's bleeding, "As badly, at the very least. "Anyways, You weren't exactly specific- but I figured, anything is better than nothing. At worst, maybe she can serve as a conduit, for whatever hocus pocus tu are intending on engaging in, non?" It's about this point that the Kensai takes note of Eldgrimr's rapid departure, something that necessitates him moving over to Inky to once more provide her support, "By the by, Red. Their..priest. That Elarick fellow. I realized what was so wrong. Beyond that there was that ..void, ever so remniscent of the leech. He wasn't one of mine.His fellows are- et I'm seeing about getting them purged. But him? He's something else. He's not touched by Elazul." That remark aside, the Kensai simply smokes, his only response to Ranok being a lax pointing motion towards Redhale. About this time, some soldiers would be returning with the individuals Redhale had requested- what with their residence being so close by.

Kasyr said to Ranok, "Hey. Don't get all snippy at moi, Monsieur. I've been playing this by the ear, until The Dark Man returned."

Redhale took a moment to give his men some instructions before turning his attention back to "Inky", so that while he talked several armored zombies were doing their best to nimbly pull stringy tendons and vessels from the viscera covering the streets, "Do you have equipment with you? We'll need some heavy hardware…" By which he meant needles, which at least could be provided by Maya and Ikara who had been hurried down the street. They looked a little unsettled themselves, but they were somewhat accustomed to the chaos by now, "And we'll need to get up into the air somehow. I can get myself there but I doubt I could hold you three up to let you work…"

Iintahquohae had needles on hand usually, but fumbled through her pockets just to make sure. Sure enough, jostling around beneath the glowing stone and other rocks in one pocket, a small square of rolled up felt with needles of varying thickness and material attached to it were felt. She fishes it out, and nods. "Of course I do." Her head cranes skyward. This is one of those instances where the seamstress wished she knew a bit of magic to make things easier. Her glance bounces from the Dark Man to the Revenant a few times . "Any ideas?"

Kasyr glances about for a few moments, before he softly curses, "I'll go find Luffy- I'm sure I can coax her into -not- killing the people on her back, in exchange for introducing her to an area rife with stuff to murder." Because, really, introducing a Homicidal Black Ice Dragon into the mix, that was durable enough to take on Kas, even when he had Gospel? Good idea.

Redhale seemed dubious, "And ask a dragon to just, hover in place while our girls do their work? We need something more stable… How high up do you think that is?"

Ranok muses, "Hy suppose Hy kould go get de Spectre...it vould take time, tough."

Iintahquohae didn't know what a Luffy was, so she pocketed her needles once again so they wouldn't accidentally be dropped. She blinked confusedly at Kasyr, then has to ask. "What's a Luf-" Oh. Redhale answered the question for her. A dragon. Wonderful. Having never been on or near a dragon before, she can't help but ask. "Are you sure this Luffy isn't going to chew on us before we can even hop on its back and get up there?"

Ranok casually introduces a dog size aberration to the cobblestones with a flick of the controls and the creak of metal. Crunch.

Kasyr tips his head off to the side, before getting a brief smirk, "Perhaps House Ginavi could help there. Rather than focus upon a living beast that adheres to ...convention- why not animate a dragon? We have a graveyard at our disposal, and a vampiric house full of necromancers. That would be taxing upon them- but it es the only other suggestion I have, beyond Luffy. I mean, vraiment- if you had something in your myriad books to perhaps..aid in such a thing. Or if someone just had a lump of that floating mineral stuff that could be manipulated. Elerium? Whatever it es?" Inky's question is the one that gets the Kensai's attention, in the end, "Um. No. I mean- if it would deprive her of killing -alot- more people, it's fairly likely she won't. But, she very well could. Or dump you off mid-air, once she'd fulfilled her half of the bargain, to ..you know. Send you into freefall." Luffy was such a people person. In the sense that she liked to meet new people, and kill them.

Kasyr decides to be a bit proactive, his right hand falling down to the sheathe of a katana, whilst his left hand falls upon the hilt.With a simple flick of his thumb, he pops the blade up, before the weapon is sent swishing through the air, an eloquent silver streak left in it's wake as he simply proceeds to effectively dismember a creature...and then eviscerate it, for good measure

Redhale turned about to indicate his ranks of rotting soldiers, "I was just going to suggest we build a tower. Raising dead takes a bit of preparation for me, but their bones are a lot easier for me to manipulate…" Yes, by tower he meant a gigantic dogpile, "If I can ossify flesh quickly enough we could get up there in a matter of minutes." Of course, stitching the tear while atop a spire of bone would be precarious work, and moving along the length of the rift would be tricky.

Ranok shakes off the now goopy foot of his machine, moving back a little. Seeing as no one answered Redhale's question, a soft voice that speaks from everywhere offers up the exact distance from the ground to the rift in the sky quite handily. A pause, and an afterthought, <Give or take a few inches. The measurements of such things are tenuous at best. My apologies.> Draeta had offered its limited observational skills.

Ranok said, "Hyu hef dese tree tinks uf metal. Each veights a fev tons. It vould proff a schtable foundation. Heavy enough und vide enough, und dey kan moff if needed. But dat vould lose der uffensiff skills, obviously. "

Iintahquohae didn't think it was necessary to say after Kasyr's description of Luffy's behavior, but figured she might. Just in case. "…So those other ideas would be safer alternatives, correct?" Inky wasn't too keen on the idea of being dropped out of the sky or turned into dragon food. The suggestion of a tower seems nicer to her, but it ultimately wasn't her decision, she assumed. They knew much more about the situation than she did.

Kasyr looks amusedly at the seamstress, "At this point, Stitch, safe es a very questionable word to be tossing around." Glancing over towards Redhale, the Revenant can't help but inquire, "If we had House Ginavi arrive here and provide their support, to help with constructing the tower, do you think it's likely that it would be more stable- et take less time? The sooner we can try et contain this, the better."

Redhale shrugged, "It's more a question of how many bodies we have for building material than how much help we have putting it together."

Ranok resists the urge to tap his fingers. Might have caused collateral damage. "A liddle uf everyddink, den. A tower to reach, Luffy to kill hennyddink dat komes, und me und mine to keep de base. Sound goot? Kan ve moff out? Ve vaste time, und more tinks to klean up after fall even as ve schpeak."

Iintahquohae quietly waits for their planning to be launched into action while casting a few glances at the rift above. "What exactly will those two and I be using to sew that thing up?" Her eyes shift over to Ikara and Maya. Maybe they had an idea.

Kasyr staggers forward for a moment, as a pair of fleshy protrusions begin to form along his back. It's not long after they've begun to unnaturally swell that skin itself begins to crack, before they finally shred open in a visceral spray of blood and meat. Wings, leathery and gore stained, protrude from the Revenants back, having torn through flesh and cloth alike. "There are bodies from 2 days worth of fighting...and I'm certain between myself et Luffy, we can generate a veritable rain of fresh material, non?" One single flap of his wings is all it takes for the Kensai to take to the air, by which point he simply does what's necessary to remain aloft. Towards the soldiers present, he simply calls out, "Contact House Ginavi, tell them we will be needing their services shortly."

Iintahquohae awkwardly stepped back from the revenant and her hands fly up to shield her face from more blood once he sprouts wings. The seamstress' hands lower once he's airborne, and she's back to mulling over what in the world could possibly be used to sew together a hole in the sky.

Ranok clangs a metal hand onto the ground. "It vill be a delicate process. Ve'll need zum schpecific tools. A tread dat's able to viddstund de pressures. SCHpacial characteristics. Chust magic might not do, it needs to be tough. Vailkrin's sky iz how old? Vouldn' patch up armor vith cheap iron if Hy vanted it to hold. Und den de needle...zumddink dat's part uf Vailkrin itself. To piece de heavens. Dis iz hall you job. Hy don' kare if hyu hef to die to do it, Kensai. You mess, you duty. Fix it." Without further ado, he signals his other two machines and they stomp off, obstinately to secure the perimeter and afford the rest of the group space to work and a bit of relief.

Ranok will continue on his self appointed task and hopes nothing catastrophic happens when he's away.

Redhale growled loudly at Ranok, "Stop giving orders on our land and move your lumbering anchors into place so we can get our platform raised." With Kasyr up in the sky, the line of sight was now easily established between Redhale and Ranok, "Ikara, Maya, get a piggy-back from some of the soldiers, the rest of you…" Redhale's rank's moaned in reply, "Move out…" With Ranok's base or not they would begin to throw themselves into a pile, some of them carrying corpses over with them, others simply clambering up their comrades and lying atop the growing edifice.

Redhale pretends Ranok put some of his things in the foundations 'cause he totally said he was going to.

Kasyr gives Ranok a loooong look after his ramble, before he flies over towards where he dropped his coat. It doesn't take him long to find his intended prize, a silvery fragment- which is promptly tossed over towards Iintahquohae "Tenebrae gave me this a long time ago to help moi. Solidified time. Not much of a help against Vuryal now, J'imagine. But it'd likely work in this situation. There's your thread, if you can find some way to manipulate it."

Kasyr gave 1 temporal fragment to Iintahquohae.

Iintahquohae ;; In the chaos, Iintahquohae isn't entirely sure where she fits. Figuring as a seamstress, she should stay near Ikara and Maya, but there's a problem. She kind of can't move too well with her broken leg unless she crawls, or leans on something. The woman begins to move along in a sorta hobble hopping..walk, if you could even call it that, only to stoop down and find a lengthy bit of bone that fell from one of the beasts eviscerated earlier. Now it was Inky's walking stick. This made moving a bit smoother while she followed Ikara and Maya, though she did wince every time she forgot to not put weight on her broken leg. Her steps are brought to an abrupt halt as she manages to catch the bit of solidified time Kasyr tosses her way. She turns the fragment in her hand a few times, then, after tucking her bone walking stick underneath her arm, tries to stretch it between both hands. It stretches out a bit, as she hoped. She grins, then looks over at the revenent. "You wouldn't happen to have a drop spindle in that coat of yours, would you? ..Or a fork. A fork and something heavy with a hole in it for the whorl might work." If Inks can pull this time stuff like wool and draft it, she could spin it into thread. Hopefully much quicker than it would take with wool, too. Perhaps since it's time, it'll speed itself up? She crossed her fingers.

Kasyr blinks. He remembers that thing being more solid, the last time he touched it- but then, between what's currently happening in Vailkrin, and the number of people with peculiar knacks that exist, he doesn't particularily mull on the thought long. Instead, he simply slings his coat over his shoulder, offers a helpless shrug, and then takes to the air. Not long after he's started to ascend, the Kensai is promptly lost from sight, an erratic streak of lightning shredding through the air and out one of the portals. It was time to reinforcements, of the homicidal Saurian Variety.

Redhale directed some of his men over to the seamstresses to gather them up and carry them towards the tower of flesh and bone, "We need you up top, ladies. Kasyr can bring you what you need, hopefully…" There would be forks in the tavern, if that was really what she needed. As for the other objects… She'd have to make do. She'd also have to work on keeping her footing, what with that injured leg, as more bodies were piled onto the foundations at her feet, where they promptly becomes still and awaited their final destiny. The bottom of the structure had already begun to transform, Redhale had plugged out and begun spinning what necromancy he knew to secure the tower, and the bones of adjacent bodies knitting together while the flesh dried out and became nearly as osseous as the cores of the bodies. The bone white tower base was studded with armor and weapons, chunks of metal left by the sacrifices like so many small stones in a stack of organic mortar.

Iintahquohae did not like being carried, but couldn't really do anything to stop it this time. While being carried toward the tower, she continued drafting out the time fragment and coiled the stretched out portion of it around her shoulder, then cast a glance over at the other two seamstresses. "You two want to be useful?" A few tugs of the fragment and a pair of undrafted pieces are tossed to both Ikara and Maya, then Inky lifted her pinkie. "Draft that until it's as thick as your little finger, alright?" She couldn't tell how much would be necessary to sew that rift up, but Inks knew for sure that she wanted to make more than necessary, if only to keep a little bit for herself to sew with. When her bit of the shard is completely drafted out and wrapped loosely around her shoulder, and glanced upward at the forming tower. Climbing that might may take a while.

Redhale drew closer to the bone tower, reaching out both of his skeletal hands to extend his power over it more. His fingers scraped over the surface in nonsensical patterns, searching through it for the next section of tissue and bone to fuse together. He was aided by the members of House Ginavi, who had made their way towards the scene after being called by Kasyr and soon the structure was sprouting upwards just about as fast as the materials for its construction could climb it. Along with those climber's would be the seamstresses' rides, the soldiers who were carrying them hoisting themselves up on bits of protruding limbs and armor and occasionally punching in their own handholds to make their way to the top. Ikara and Maya worked as a team, something they didn't often do, with their chunks of time, hooking one end over a piece of duregar steel on one of their rides and yanking it out into thick strands, folding and twisting and pulling to create something they could work with.

Iintahquohae didn't think a drop spindle or a makeshift one would be coming as she's carried up the ever growing tower, so she pinches one end of drafted time between her thumb and forefinger, and starts to give the material twist so it becomes a thread. When she reaches an arm's length of twisted time-thread, the seamstress stops, coils it around her wrist so it stays in one place, and continues to repeat the process until she reaches the end of her chunk of the time shard. A thick layer of thread is wrapped tight around her wrist and she shakes her hand in order to get some feeling back into it after the circulation of blood to that hand if cut off from the thread. Thinking it may not be safe to keep it on her wrist where it could slip and fall down the tower, Inks carefully slides the newly made thread off of her wrist, and into her pocket. It's a shame that they couldn't properly set the twist so the thread was a little bit sturdier, but it would have to do.

Redhale was making his own way up the tower, too. His dark form twisted about its structure, stretching a spiral of inky black around the dusty white growth. Further up the tower, at least, he wouldn't have to worry so much about those minions falling from the sky, which were beginning to become rather thick upon the ground due to the fact that a majority of the Vailkrin ground forces were in the process of becoming a giant pedestal. Those who were left behind did their best to beat the beasts off, and those making their way up the tower swatted at what flying monstrosities they could reach, but soon the swarm would be on those seamstresses proper, and then no matter how well they had made their tools their job would likely be a failed one.

Kasyr 's return is heralded by deafening roar, every iota of the sound brimming with pride. At the center of that disturbance rested the Black Ice Dragon, talons firmly entrenched in the body of one of the larger flying beasts. For a moment Luffy tenses, before frostbound 'muscles' rend outwards- reducing her ensnared prey into ruinous rain of ichor and flesh. With a second gleeful roar that seems to revel in the carnage, the murderous dragon promptly dives into the fray- every inch of her body put to work in slaughtering those 'insignificant' abominations. Claw, tooth, tail, Even the ridged spikes which run down her spine. Kasyr has also devoted himself to cutting through the legion of creatures, though his approach is far more conservative. For the moment, the Revenant is simply relying upon the pair of Katana's that has served him so well this day, in tandem with what aerial mobility he currently possesses. The fact that he's now carrying a satchel seems to imply he has something else in store, however. Whatever the case, it's fair to say that there's a fair bit more 'death from above' going on- though both the Kensai & Luffy do seem to be taking measures to avoid entering the 'point-of-no-return'.

Iintahquohae 's head snaps in the direction of the source of Luffy's roar, and for the first time ever she's seen a real dragon. It's been an evening of firsts, really. First time breaking her leg, running through sewers while being chased by a nightmarish monster, and now she was being carried up a tower made of things that were once living. How disturbing. The seamstress' head tilted skyward yet again toward the much closer rift, wondering quietly how much longer it would be until she and the other seamstresses would begin stitching it together.

Redhale 's gloomy visage awaited Iintahquohae at the top of the tower, having somehow stretched himself up there before the tower had finished it's construction. The thing was stable now, although further sacrifices would be needed to make the precarious journey along the length of the tear, made even more dangerous not only due to the fact that any creature in the beyond could immediately cross over and attack them, but also because the tear itself caused the flesh and material of those things near it to become somewhat unstable. Even Redhale's enchanting voice was somewhat quieter up here, the fact that the crackling of the rift drowned out most noise notwithstanding, "You girls get to work, just…" He grasped for the edge of the rift, and succeeded only in losing the tips of his spindly, skeletal fingers, "Just grab it or something…" He was about to set his mind to figuring out this puzzle when a lumpy, clawed foot stomped it's way out of the gash in the sky, something Redhale figured he would have to deal with, considering the ladies he had escorted here didn't seem exactly combat ready. For now they would have to try to figure out the puzzle of stitching up the rift themselves while Redhale bulged rather grotesquely himself to take on a more ferocious form; while melee combat certainly wasn't his forte it wasn't a huge ordeal to grab, wrestle and break off the various appendages that lunged out to attack them, and most the dark man managed to grab with a thick tendril of cloth from his cloak so that they might add to the pedestal upon which they all stood.

Iintahquohae carefully climbed down from the grasp of her carrier after the other two seamstresses did, and awkwardly leaned on the nearest one, Maya, while she shifted her weight onto her uninjured leg. Ideally, she would've liked for either her, Ikara or Maya to start on one end, another on the opposite, and somebody in the middle, so they would cover more of the tear simultaneously. Now for needles. Normal ones most likely would not work, so Iintahquohae waited for a suggestion from the other two, assuming they had a better grasp of what they were looking at than she did. The pair of seamstresses conversed in hushed tones before Ikara spoke up, after casting a weary look at Red's fingers. "We're going to need some kind of needle that won't disappear." Her head nodded in his direction, so Maya and Iintahquohae would look, before adding. "..and some way to touch it without having to worry about our fingers getting eaten up." The trio fell silent for a moment before Maya began to suggest, "Bone from the things coming ou-" The arrival of a clawed foot cut her sentence off, and all three seamstresses tried to jump out of the way of the foot, with varying degrees of success. Maya tripped backward and nearly fell off of the tower, but Ikara and Inks managed to grab at her feet in time before she slipped away entirely. While pulling her up, Ikara shouted over her shoulder at Red and the Revenant, or anybody who might be able to help, really, "We're gonna need a bit of those thing's bones." "Or the claw..Could you knock a bit this way?" Inks suggested, while Maya scrambled to her feet and helped the other seamstress up.

Kasyr is relatively content to let Luffy murder as she pleases- that wrathful construct of Black Ice currently in the process of engaging ...'something'. In this case, it was fairly hard to define, since every so often, it's bodily mass would shift and alter- but one particular portion of it's body seemed to remain consistant: A chunk of flesh that was thoroughly skewered by an oversized bolt of metal. That wound only serves to coax Luffy into trying to add insult to injury (read: even more injury), an act which in this case comes in the form of her spearing it through with her tail. Repeatedly. Until it stops pleasing her. Bear with us, this might be a while. Kasyr, on the other hand, is more readily focused upon both the immediate safety of the tower, and those individuals who were still alive on the ground. Vampiric forces were still entrenched in the surrounding buildings, after all- and with the overly large phallic 'tower-of-the-dead' jutting up at the sky, it's no surprise that abberation and cultist alike were starting to converge towards the center of town. Which is about the point the Revenant takes a brief break from stabbing things, and proceeds to start rummaging in his pack. For forks. Apparently, the Kensai's pack has a good dozen swords (of the hilt-less Katana variety, so he could fit more) bundled together in it...and then forks stuffed into any free space that was left over. Apparently, the Revenant had heard Inky's request; though at this point, he could only gather they didn't have any cutlery related emergencys going on- which left him free to use them as he wished. In this case, this meant gathering up ambient electrical energy, if only to discharge into the chosen item. Essentially, those seemingly benign utensils become impromptu projectiles of mass destruction. One after another, electrified chunks of metal hurtle through the air at blinding speed, rending through flesh, bone and wing until they eventually find something sturdy enough to withstand their destructive force. And all the while, the Revenant is simply muttering things along the lines of, "Go fork yourself." Zap. "Et Fork you, too." He might just enjoy his work, a bit too much.

Redhale had been munching on a piece of the strange creature when he heard Ikara shout out her request, and pulled from somewhere amongst his inner workings a thin sliver of bone, half crunched from his mid-fight meal, which he hurried over to the seamstresses with. He seemed ready to get some more when a heavy shudder ran up the tower, causing him to freeze in his search. The base of the structure had been overrun, and the offenders had begun to swing at it with everything they had, chipping away at it's brittle mass. The dark man shouted out to Kasyr, "You'll have to guide these fine ladies up here, I'm needed back on the ground!" Which was where he worked best anyway; the proximity to the tear was beginning to get to him. He let his writhing cloak grab what attackers he could reach before simply dropping off the side of the tower, his cloak trailing behind him like a tattered black flag tied to the stone of his body, which crashed into the ground with a mighty crunch of paving stones and bones.

Iintahquohae ;; Ikara took the sliver of bone and snapped it in two, then handed the other half over to Iintahquohae. The trio of seamstresses braced and fell into a crouch when the tower shook, grabbing onto whatever raised portions of it they could so there was less likely of a chance to slide off again. Without a proper eye to the needle, Ikara and Inks each tied an end of their portion of the time-thread to their bone needles, while Maya broke one of the more brittle portions of the tower with the heel of her boot. Bits of bone shard go flying, but the woman hands over a handful of concave bits of shattered bone to each seamstress. Inks and Ikara exchange a puzzled glance before Maya explains. "..Thimbles? More than one, so your fingers don't burn off. They hastily shove their fingertips into the bits of bone and step over to either side of the rift, with Mayu assisting Iintahquohae to her end. The woman shudders at being so close to the thing, as do the other two seamstresses, and she shouts over the noise of the chaos below, directly above, and around them. "Alright..Whip stitch across it! We'll meet in the middle." Hopefully. Ikara plunges her threaded needle into both sides of the torn rift first, and Iintahquohae follows soon after.

Kasyr has a particularily sour look on his face when he watches Redhale hurtle down towards the ground. He could only hope the vampiric soldiers that were stationed in the various buildings were still stationed there, as the supporting fire they provided had been invaluable to maintaining some level of control over this area. It also provided a fall back point for the members of house Ginavi that were present, since they could essentially cast offensively. As long as more houses didn't get crumpled in. With a sigh of resignation, the Revenant simply soars upward, if only to take up a position up along the top of the tower. Hell if he was going to fly -anywhere- near that rift if he could help it. Instead, he simply tosses down his pack onto the make-shift platform, before plucking one of the spare swords out from the pack. The plan, at this point, is altogether simple- Stab, gouge, slice, and otherwise maim anything that's coming through, until the Katana either breaks from the stress of being smashed into things with unnatural force, or from the unnatural fluids the creatures leak out. The fact that he he'd brought a pack full of the damn things meant he could just grab another sword, rinse, and repeat. Still, for the times when things got rough, the Revenant did have some particularily unpleasent surprises up his sleeve.. One such trick is fairly quick to make an appearance, when the group find themselves suddenly beset upon by fliers, the Kensai coaxing an aura of condensed wind around his (second, at this point) sword, if only to slash the weapon out towards the nearest pack of assailants. Though the swing falls short of it's target, the condensed blade of wind which rends out in a sweeping arc does not; filling the air with shorn flesh and rapidly putrefying ichor.

Redhale slowly rose from the crumpled mass of cloth at the bottom of the tower, the body within those thick robes pulling itself out of pieces of stone and flesh, piecing itself together bone by bone, and all the while the ground forces rushed to swarm him. He was, however, no stranger to taking on multiple enemies alone, and as they rushed they would witness his form growing taller and wider, blotting out the landscape with his swirling cloak while staring down upon them with a somehow furious look upon his expressionless mask. Most of them were undeterred, though, until that mask popped open along the jawline to spew out all manner of horror. Most people would have though the things falling from the sky were hideous, but the things held within Redhale's mind were a fair challenge to that. Faceless bodies of raw pink flesh clambered out of putrid smelling muck which flooded from his maw, long fingers clutching out towards the attackers while high pitched wails and moans breathed endlessly from their own twisted mouths, if the holes in their heads could be described as such. One would think that the cultists were used to strange sights, but it only took a small flinch from one of them to throw them off guard enough that those clawing digits could wrap around a limb, crushing their victim and holding them stiff as they were drawn slowly towards the crying mouths of the hungry.

Iintahquohae continued sewing the rift shut along with Ikara. Ikara would've been miles ahead of her if it weren't for the monstrosities that flew out of the rift. She stopped just as much as Inky had to so she could inch along with Maya's help to reach more unstitched rift. Kasyr's presence is greatly appreciated, since he's much better at taking care of the monsters than the three of them are. While stitching, Inks yells over her shoulder toward the revenant, "Do you think this will be enough to keep these things contained?" She thought after meeting Ikara in the middle, they could cross over each other's stitches so it may be a bit stronger. Inky continued sewing while waiting for an answer, taking a very brief pause on occasion to make sure the bone thimbles on her fingertips weren't becoming loose.

Kasyr loses his fourth sword into the belly of a flying beast, the damnable creature abruptly dropping like a rock the very moment it's skewered, if only to wrench the Revenants weapon out of it's hand.Without skipping a beat, the Kensai rolls over to his pack, if only so he can draw forth a katana in a violent slashing motion- severing one of the various creatures in twain. Unforunately, the Kensai is given fairly little time to revel at his glorious interception, if only because he catches sight of something coming through the rift. Even with those silvery threads slowly drawing the edges of the dimensional rift together, so that it's less of a yawning chasm and more of a narrow fissure, there's a particular section that is beginning to strain apart- the thread slowly expanding beneath some form of inter-spatial tension, so that a large spherical shape can begin to squeeze through. The revenant, by this point, is somewhat familiar with it, given the unmistakeably scaly texture- though this one presents a problem in particular. Not only does it appear to be -alot- large, seemingly thrice as large as the last ones to drop...it's also seems all but poised to slam smack dab into the tower. The realisation is enough to send the Kensai into an altogether haphazard dash, the only deviation from his course being a brief detour towards his pack so that he can kick it towards his intended destination. Which is to say, directly beneath where the damnable thing is starting to burst through the rift. Sparing no more thought for the matter, the revenant places both hands upon the blade, and swings up to meet the thing. At a glance, the action would seem futile, as even a full on strike from Dami did little more than send a few errant scales flying off the thing- but then, the Kensai's main focus here is not to break the thing- so much as to push it back. A goal that is currently aided not only by his unnatural strength, but also by a secondary ability. Even before the sword's made contact, the Kensai taps into his particular affinity with electricity, heedless of the manner in which a patch of skin along his back abruptly dissipating into sparks as he invokes his abilities. With a sound akin to a peal of thunder, the blade crashes into the 'Squelchs' outer shell- an unnatural shockwave ramming into the creatures body courtesy of the Revenants peculiar sword technique. And yet, it's not enough- even with that unnatural strength, and that additional kinetic force, the thing continues to slowly drift downward, forcing the Kensais blade to start drifting along it's shell in a spray of sparks.

Kasyr ||Somewhere, in the background, Luffy's barrel-rolling in the air, a swarm of creatures clawing and gnashing at her wings. Her response is fury made audible, a long piercing cry which only ends when she takes a large bite out of a creature unforunate enough to be in her path. The meal is hardly savoured, the vile substance spewed forth onto the gathered masses below, before the Black Ice Dragon promptly curls her body inwards and begins to plummet. Given that she's heedless of where she actually lands, and is actively seeking out aberrations to impact into on her way down, it's no wonder that she ends dragging down a veritable 'cushion' of carcasses with her into the cobble-stones of the street, and -through- it, her lunatic dive only ending which she reaches the sewers. In all directions from the impact zone, a sickly combination of Gore-soaked stone and Black Ice Debris rests painted across the surface. Apparently, Luffys antics have come at the cost of her right foreclaw, and a portion of her left. Damage that is not irreplaceable- but certainly inconvenient when she desires to kill so much more.

Redhale was torn between keeping the base of the tower safe from harm and stopping whatever the next monstrosity was from breaking through the work that had already been done. He wasn't sure he'd even be able to get to the top of the tower in time to help Kasyr with the scaly creature that was trying to burst into Vailkrin, but then he didn't think they'd even need the tower standing for a great deal longer. So it was he abandoned his post once more, his twisted form swinging and stretching to scale the tower rather nimbly, leaving the swamp of hungry snatching monsters behind him to at least slow the assault on the bone obelisk. His illusions wouldn't stand much chance without him focusing to put fear in the minds of the cultists, but they could still tear a few out of the offensive numbers and put enough fear in them to make their advances slow and unsure. Upon reaching Kasyr the dark man had to pause to gather himself; a being constructed like he was took more wear and tear from the rift in the sky than those of pure flesh like Inky, but he wouldn't let such passive danger get in the way when there were true aggressors all around them. For most of his life Redhale had never been a great one for outright strength, which was both part of why he had followed the path of the mage while also being further caused by that very pursuit. Now though, in undeath, he had a considerable amount more weight to throw around, his aptitude with magic actually aiding the force his body could create. While he would still never make a great duelist like Kasyr might, the job at hand was perfectly suited for him, and so he hunched over and pushed upwards against the protruding beast with what were probably his shoulders, the flailing cloak drawing close around him to bring his muddled form into a tower of undead strength.

Iintahquohae and the others continued to sew together the rift, but they come to a reluctant halt when there's a strain on the stitches, which Ikara happened to be closest to. While Kasyr appeared to be dealing with the issue, the seamstress yells over at Maya and Inky, "Go over what you've done already so it's a bit stronger!" Maya decides to leave Iintahquohae's side to go to the far edge of where she started, and with her own bit of the time thread, she frantically starts pushing it into the same entry points and exit points that Ink's needle and thread already made. Her thread very slowly (thanks to a lack of needle) forms a cross-cross pattern over Inky's stitches, while Ikara does something similar on her end, albeit much quicker. Iintahquohae continues making stitches, but at an even slower pace than before now that she had to basically hobble to the next unsewn spot after making so many stitches within arm's reach.

Kasyr 's blade is beginning to strain at this point, the damnable item fissuring under the pressure. Even when he taps into that peculiar ability again, drawing upon raw elemental lightning to generate a shockwave of force befitting of a thunderclap- the spherical mass continues it's slow downwards descent. Each invocation causes another patch of the Revenants body to ionize into raw electrical energy, flesh sparking away, if only to leave raw tissure and blood in it's wake. Unbidden, the Revenants shade once more begins to stir to laugh- darkness pooling up from his shadows if only to hang heavy in the air about him. Each particle of darkness seemed to ooze malignance and fury, testament to the darkness which fueled the Kensai. Fortunately, that rage could be focused, shaped, forged into an extension of himself. The revenants peculiar feline-esque tail is the chosen instrument in this instance, the darkness wrapping itself around the wriggling appendage, offering it a length and mobility it otherwise lacked. Without a second thought, the Kensai seizes upon the last sword in his bag with his tail, before abruptly flicking it upwards.Instinctively one hand flicks out to catch the thing- before it too is driven into the shell of the massive 'Squelch', a secondary roar of thunder reverbrating through the area upon impact. With that unusual amount of kinetic force now being generated by both blades, and with Redhales efforts, the spherical object not only begins to sink back into the rift- but also begins to crack all along it's surface. Apparently, it's not faring well against the sustained shockwaves. "Move it, Red."

Redhale almost thought Kasyr had attempted to lift him out of the way after telling him to "move it," but was fairly sure that even the Kensai would have trouble carrying him without losing the use of his hands. It takes a moment, in which he at least moves himself anyway, to realize that the shift he had felt wasn't occurring at the top of the tower, but rather at the bottom. The cultists and aberrations had surrounded the base of the structure once more, and it had finally begun to lean. At first the shift was very slow, but the bulk of the structure further unbalanced it and the rate at which its lean increased began to climb. Those at ground level didn't have to do anything except get out of the way as the tower of bones and bodies began to bring itself down, an all those balanced atop with it.

Iintahquohae , Maya, and Ikara all pull away from the rift once Maya screams something along the lines of "It's tipping!" interspersed between a stream of swears. Inks grabs at the thread she worked with and gives a sharp tug, snapping what remained from her portion of the thread away from what she already had sewn in. With Maya's assistance, she hobbles along to Maya's thread and does the same, and then the two practically slide toward Ikara as the tower leans, and the injured seamstress manages to snap Ikara's time thread free. The trio then tangle their arms and legs (for Inky, her only good leg), amongst the bones, and brace themselves for what was probably an unpleasant impact.

Kasyr glances over towards Redhale, mutters, "Keep them safe, Please" and then promptly steps off the collapsing platform. The Kensai's plan at this point is remarkably simple: Between the collapsing tower, the -still- rampaging Luffy, and the general havoc caused by the various monsters and abberations below- it was altogether unlikely that the cultists would pay much heed to a body that was plummeting towards the ground in freefall. Sure, Kasyr's wings were currently angled in a manner that was benefical to a faster descent- but that wasn't exactly a detail that was likely to be noticed all that readily. A fact which meant the Revenant likely didn't have to worry about being telekinetically intercepted, and hurled through a building or two. Rather, the Kensai is granted the means to focus unimpeded, to tap into the very essence of storms and harness it within his form. Kasyr can't help but stare at the ground as it rushes forward, vaguely aware of the unpleasent sensation that accompanies the gradual disintegration of his wings as it's converted into electrical energy. It's only when he's all but poised to smash into the ground that he clutches the grips of the Katana's he's wielding, and invokes the full force of the energies he's been storing. For the Revenant, time seems to slow to a crawl- his perception seeming to sync up to the element he so deftly channels. With a loud 'BOOM' which blossoms out from his position, Kasyr's momentum suddenly shifts- the Kensai sent hurtling past one of the cultists in a literal blur of electrical energy, in just such a manner that he's able to drag his sword through the mans torso and rend him in half. With his perceptions as skewed as they are, the mans body seems to shred apart in slow motion- parting only after the Kensai has begun to hurtle towards his next hapless victim. By the time blood begins to spray out into the air, the revenants cleaved a third man in half- and left one of the twin Katana's imbedded in a fourth man's head. Again, and again, the Kensai carves through the masses, with those Vampires which are undoubtedly from House Kikei being Kasyrs primary target. ...To those whose perceptions have not been altered by virtue of having tapped into a fundamentally pure source of lightning, they'd simply lose track of Kasyr, before bearing witness to the clustered crowd of cultists on the ground suddenly being to rupture into outrageous blossoms of blood and sparks, with no real discernable pattern emerging amidst the carnage save that it's -strictly- targeting cultists.

Redhale was left to save people. Great, that was most definitely his forte. The being wasn't sure he had ever saved anyone in his life, discounting saves that were mere side affects of his actions, and he knew he hadn't saved anyone in his death. If he had tried to grab onto the seamstresses he would probably just do even more damage to them, so instead he hooked himself onto the structure much as the women had and put his practiced skills to work. He didn't think he had ever deceived someone in order to help them, but he saw no reason why he shouldn't be able to, and so with that in mind he sent his thoughts to the ground below them. To hit it would mess him up a little but, as had already been proved, he would be put back together in little time. The living, though, they faced near certain death if they were allowed to hit that ground from this high, so he sought to merely stop them from hitting it. Or anything. So it was that the shadow cast by the dull glow from the sky over the falling tower grew much darker, an effect caused not by the increasing proximity of the tower but by the fact that the lend beneath it seemed to be crumbling away, a huge dark chasm forming as chunks of earth plummeted into the depths. Several of the cultists Kasyr had yet to attend to fell into the darkness, but it was Inky, Ikara and Maya it had been crafted for. Instead of slamming into the ground they would instead just keep falling, tumbling through the dark with the broken tower. Iintahquohae and the others clung to the tower as tightly as possible. Ikara seemed to be the braver of the trio, and glanced down at the newly formed chasm she, the others, and the tower were plummeting into. Whatever exclamation about them falling into the chasm is drowned out by the sounds of the monsters still roaming about, but she, Maya and Iintahquohae still hang on as tightly as they could while anxiously waiting to reach the bottom in hopefully one piece.

Kasyr can't help but grimace as the mundane blades he had settled upon -shatter- upon impact with yet another cultist, something which coaxes him into discarding the ruins of those weapons. Those last remnants of energy which still course through his body are discharged in a relatively unconventional manner- the Revenant simply tackling into a cultist, and allowing a combination of supernatural strength and obscene momentum to do the rest of the work. Which is to say, make the cultist into an impromptu projectile- whose existance can only be defined by the excruitiating agony that overtakes his being moments before his body collides with another fellows and messily crunches into it. It only gets worse when the pair impact into a wall and effectively meld together in a horrid mess of rent flesh and entrails. Kasyr, being the occasionally prudent fellow that he is, takes this time to begin sidling away from the tower some more, so as to avoid getting buried under debris. He's somewhat unlikely to be hindered in the moment, since the cultists are a bit too busy fleeing in abject panic due to just how poorly things have went- between Redhale, Kasyr, and the vampiric forces which were -still- entrenched in the nearby residences, riddling them with a combination of arrows and what arcane unpleasentries can be mustered by a House of vampiric Necromancers.

Redhale hadn't let his consciousness enter the illusion he had created for those more vulnerable than him; while hitting the ground was hardly pleasant, he at least couldn't feet the pain of it. It was even possible that some part of him liked the process of fixing his body back into whatever form he had picked for the day, though the fact that he only practiced while actually in battle seemed a little foolhardy. Still, right now Kasyr had most of the cultists on the run, so he was free to reassemble the puzzle of his bones while pondering just how he would return Inky, Ikara and Maya to normality without harming them. Being plucked out of a void to find yourself back on the cold hard ground was likely to do as much damage as simply letting them fall would have, and while spitting them back up into the sky would slow them down it would still leave them fair too high to land safely. Instead, inspired by the local fauna and the professions of those in question, Redhale sent a swarm of spiders from the hem of his robe, each of them growing to a monstrous size as they rustled down into the hole. Their descent was on the end of threads, yet they still dropped past the endangered mortals down in the black depths so that they might spin a series of webs, crossing back and forward and around the chasm, each web built just as the trio had fallen through the previous one until enough silk had been spun to slow their fall to a halt.

Kasyr has two particular matters to attend to, the likes of which will no doubt take up the entirety of his attention. Initially, his task is to simply direct the troops that are still entrenched to aid in mopping up the surviving cultists; whilst also ensuring that a fresh batch of soldiers come in to relieve those currently on shift. An action that would also allow House Ginavi to retrieve it's valuable personel. Secondly, and more pressing, is the issue of coaxing Luffy out of Vailkrin. In and of itself, it's not exactly a difficult task- beyond the process of ensuring she strictly mauls the aberrations in the sky on the way out, and doesn't decide to whimsically maul a few ...allied individuals on the way out. Considering that she's just spent the better part of an evening rending things apart, however- she's likely a bit more pliable than normal, at least.

Redhale shrugged off a few hits from an overenthusiastic cultist as he pulled Inky, Ikara and Maya from their safety pit. Unfortunately it seemed the trio had more or less passed out, so one of the soldiers who hadn't been turned into a giant tower was ordered to carry them away to safety. Redhale himself needed to get somewhere a little less loud for the time being, because now that the rain of vicious beasts had slowed he figured he could take some time for himself once more. He didn't leave before shoving that pesky cultist into his pit and closing it up for good, though.