RP:Objects in Motion

This is a Necromancer's Guild RP.

This is a Warrior's Guild RP.

Part of the Dissonance Theory Arc

Part of the Through The Looking-Glass: Return To Wonderland Arc

Part of the On Stranger Tides Arc

Summary: With Lionel, Krice, and Syrri headed to negotiate with a rogue elven war band in the Southern Sage, and Kasyr and Penelope taking the warship Maighdean Mhara in search for clues, only Khitti and Quintessa are left as senior officers at Vigilanti Semper. Quintessa studies alongside an exuberant scholar named Jessie Raspberry artifacts recovered from the mission to the chasm while Khitti notes their progress -- until an alarm bell snaps all three women to action. Cultists of Xicotl, led by a mysterious set of twins with white hair and command over the powers of the Shadow Plane, stage an assault on the fortress, prompting Khitti to strike hard and fast whilst Quintessa leads the soldiers and recruits. Elsewhere on the battlefield, a towering man whom most of the guild had taken for nothing more than an impressive suit of armor rampages against the enemy to great success; certainly, none will doubt the martial prowess of one Ihrakah going forward. Quintessa is spoiling for a fight against the more feminine of the cultist twins, but misses out on fulfilling her desire when the enemy forces, having sustained ample losses but coming close to toppling Semper's walls, abruptly sound the retreat.

Vigilanti Semper

Quintessa Dragana had a lot of work to do when it came to translating old texts and pouring over maps and scroll with her new acquaintance, Jessie Raspberry, but first the spell blade had to tend to an older friend, her mount Bloodbeak. He required daily brushing and his claws had to have the dirt and grime picked out manually. The changeling had finished up with his feathers before grabbing the farrier knife from the set of tools she carried around in the cockatrice's saddlebag and attempt to lift up his large foot. Bloodbeak didn't want to comply however; Something was spooking him, and thusly he pulled his talon away from Quintessa the first time she tried to clean it. "Bloodbeak," the woman said sternly to her bird, holding her hand out for him to put his claw back into. Reluctantly, the cockatrice obeyed, trusting his mistress with his life despite his agitated state. "Honestly, I don't know what's gotten into you. You've been acting strange since-" Quintessa froze, her farrier knife dropping to the straw and dirt of the stable floor as her mismatched eyes stared at Bloodbeaks dirty talon. Why was it covered in ashes and soot? Before she had time to really ponder this question a loud ringing filled her ears and she released her mounts leg as she stumbled away from him. Visions of fire flashed before her eyes- visions of Venturil. Houses, shops, entire settlements set ablaze. Quintessa curled in a ball on the stable floor, knocking over a bucket of feed as panic seized her. "No-no-no-no-no..." she whimpered, "What's happening to me?" The girl tried to push the visions out of her head. "This isn't you..." she gasped, doing her best to convince herself as she pulled herself up by some planks in the wall, "You're not a weak little girl anymore!" With that last affirmation she slammed her fist into the wall of the barn, startling the horses in the nearby stables. Just like that the ringing was gone and the memories of the burning villa pushed back into Quintessa's repressed thoughts.

Since that morning Quintessa found herself distracted as she looked through the texts and maps the Imperator tasked her to study, accidently mistranslating a few passages and causing a slight scare when the changeling thought she discovered that more than one Xicotl. It turned out to be a simple clue pertaining to the 'children of Xicotl' but upon reading the context it was referencing humanoid followers and not literal progeny. Rubbing her temple slightly Quintessa smiled sheepishly at Jessie, putting her quill the side as she rested her mismatched eyes. "I'm sorry, Miss Raspberry," the changeling said, her hands coming together over her head as she stretched in her chair, "I've been out of sorts lately." 'Out of sorts' was taking it lightly; Quintessa was on the verge of a mental breakdown. Her fidgety hands return to the table, longing to be holding a cigarette right now as they hover over the edges of parchments and tombs. "Some expert I turned out to be." Quintessa scoffed at the end of that, intentionally taking the piss out of her emotional state.

Lionel || “Aw, dilly-dally, shilly-shally,” Jessie Raspberry said by way of reply. Her voice was, as ever, silky-smooth and becalming. In the short period of time that Quintessa had met Jessie, the young woman with her buns-up hair secured by a sporty red bandanna had consistently proven herself to be the upbeat sort. She also seemed empathetic, however – empathetic enough not to press too hard on someone’s buttons, nor allow her optimistic nature to wear thin on a realist’s nerves. She knew when to be quiet, but she also knew – or at least, she hoped she knew – when to give someone a little boost in spirit. “Don’t you worry about a thing.” Jessie stood up from the lacquer bench she’d been sitting on in order to get a closer look at the illustrations she and Quintessa had brought down into the command wing’s observation chamber. The chamber was spacious, and it was already stacked to the stone ceiling with artifacts from a dozen or more cultures. None were so pressingly frightening as those of the old civilizations ill-fated by Xicotl’s past awakenings. The paintings which Jessie now studied depicted, in short, fire and blood; men and women were drawn in simple silhouettes, their frightened faces the only aspect accentuated, as they ran from flames – and from creatures so horrifying that running into those self-same flames seemed the only escape. There was something of scholarly interest near the top-left corner of the painting, however, and Jessie was quick to capitalize on that observation. “The mountains here,” she said, tapping the artwork gently with a bandaged hand. “Look familiar to you? I think these are out Venturil way.” The good Miss Raspberry had no way of knowing that such geographical familiarity might cause Quintessa Dragana all the more harm right now. “That means this scene – this must have taken place out on the open plains. But… it’s verdant, isn’t it?” She hummed thoughtfully. “Aha! I get it now. I think the planet itself was sucked dry from this calamity. Oof,” she cringed out loud. “That’s not good.”

Khitti || In a strange turn of events, Khitti found herself lurking around Venturil. Okay, so it really wasn’t strange. She felt obligated to be there now that the Warrior’s Guild’s new headquarters had been built there. Sigh. Well, she could at least stick to the place where she felt the most at home: The Dead Forest. In much the same way the Dark Forest of Vailkrin and the Deep Dark Forest of the Enchantment called to her, so too did this one (there’s clearly a pattern here). Yet, for some time now, she’d refused its siren song--until today. She wandered amongst the dead and decaying trees, pondering over the things Deadeye Doolie had said to her this past weekend. ‘Someone seeks you. Two someones. What -have- you been doing over there?’ While Quintessa was overtaken by her trauma, Khitti’s own demons mocked her. And infuriated her. What did the whole of the Shadow Plane expect of her? A goddamned miracle? ‘It seems the earthen element you’ve been seeking has been with you this whole time. And now you have more shadowglass… but how will you learn to use it, I wonder? Who will tell you when the realm you said you’d save has been left in the hands of your enemies?’ She was going to have to tell Brand soon. They were going to have to go back. She could not fight Jessamine and James alone. This only angered Khitti further. To the point that she set a few trees on fire. It was fine; they were dead anyway. Angry, and in need of something to distract her, Khitti headed to Vigilanti Semper, shadowstepping often to get there as quickly as possible and away from the thoughts that plagued her. She’d wander around the castle, until she heard voices coming from the observation chamber. The redhead stopped next to the door frame and listened, not quite keen on interrupting Quintessa and Jessie just yet.

Quintessa could help but offer Jessie a tiny smile, finding the cartographer's general attitude and upbeat nature a comfortable foil to her own sullen and creepy aura. Raising from her seat the young necromancer lifted her hand to trace over the mountains with lithe fingers. Memories of flying above Venturil on Luffy's back filled her mind, along with it the low ringing she heard earlier. It wasn't as loud or debilitating as it had been in Bloodbeak's stable, but the feeling still made her heart beat faster in her chest. "I... recognize this area..." Quintessa slowly said, recalling the Razurath War in it's entirety now, remembering the stacks of bodies and the sphere of annihilation that killed her friend. The changeling's eyes first fell from the map and then her hands as the odd girl began to pace to steady her breathing. "Not again..." she mumbled to herself, reaching for the silver tin of clove cigarettes that fit nicely in the inner pocket of her necromancer's robes. Out of the corner of her blue eye Quintessa spied Khitti just as she was bringing the cig to her mouth. "Oh! -mistress, I didn't see you there." Her gaze flickered back and forth between her and Jessie before gesturing to the table "You can join us if you like- We were just exploring the map a bit..." Khitti's sudden arrival was the distraction Quintessa sorely needed.

Lionel || Jessie gave Flare Guardian Khitti Herzegler a smile and a wink. “Hop on in,” she offered before tilting her attention back toward Lady Dragana. “You recognize it, huh? Well, that’s swell! I daresay we ought to report to the higher-ups that the possibility exists that we might find some means of countering the enemy in this exact location. And since the odds are high for more artifacts, I’d absolutely love to accompany y’all on such a mission.” It then dawned on the upbeat lass that one such higher-up had just been invited into the chamber as if for tea. “Speak of the devil. Mrs. Herzegler, we’ve found another spot to investigate. Xicotl may have followers in the area. Or maybe some long-lost descendants from civilization past still roam the once-lush plains!” Jessie had a tendency to get carried away, but it wasn’t entirely out of the realm of possibility. Nomadic tribes were somewhat commonplace along the western frontier, after all. “Is there anything you can tell us about the state of affairs in that area, Miss Dragana?” Jessie tapped her index finger to her bandann as she went back to observing the material culture she and several others had gathered in the chamber. “Oh, and do you happen to recognize anything unique about any of the jewels y’all unearthed down at the chasm? I had the boys bring them all up here.” Indeed, golden trinkets were scattered among pieces of jade, and emerald, and amber. One such piece – a jade crown – had a distinctly Rynvali design. Quintessa may well have recognized it from her studies, and if so, she might be aware that the design was roughly synonymous with a band of religious zealots who lived along the island’s far northern shore.

Khitti was going to have to get used to being called ‘mistress’. And she was absolutely not going to tell Brand about this because he would undoubtedly make fun of her for it. She managed a faint smile for the changeling and a nod for Jesse as she found a seat nearby. Khitti did all she could to not cringe at being called ‘Mrs. Herzegler’ as Jessie spoke to her, to which Khitti’d just give another, though slight, nod. “I see. I have not been quite so attached to this whole thing as the others have. I have… other matters.” Her hesitation to elaborate was obvious, at least perhaps to Quintessa, and Khitti merely continued on the conversation without delving any further down the rabbit hole. “Does it really matter what might be going on there right now? This place is cursed. All of Venturil is absolutely cursed. It’s most likely nothing good.” Cultists. Razarath. Mindflayers. It was never good. -Ever-. The thought of acting all peaceful like with the people that lived in Venturil made her anger all the worse and Khitti just shook her head and sighed then looked elsewhere, allowing Quintessa to give Jessie what info she might have without further comment from Khitti on the state of Venturil.

Quintessa nodded to Jessie as she snapped her fingers, producing a small flame to light her cigarette on. Normally the changeling abhorred smoking around research materials, but the soothing waves that washed over her made her forget all about the potential damage she could cause. After all, these riches had been sitting in a dank cave for centuries, a little cigarette smoke wasn't going to make much of a difference. Thinking about the map made her head hurt, so Quintessa avoided it, instead moving to the jade crown. Blowing a cloud of smoke away from the other two women, the changeling holds it aloft before removing the cigarette from her mouth. "One thing I wanted to talk about was this object- Here, look at this symbol. I read a book from Rynvale describing a pseudo-deity called Riamha and this symbol showed up over and over. It must be connected somehow." Quintessa really hoped this lead would satisfy Jessie's curiosity and keep her from pressing for more info about that area on the map. "Khitti's right," The changeling added flatly, "Last time I was in Venturil Kasyr and I broke up a bunch of highwaymen, and the time before that this kingdom was still subjugated by lizards. We should do some proper recon- We can't count on the stability of the region."

Lionel || Jessie kept a quirky blush concealed by turning so that her back faced the others and she could more carefully observe the jade crown. It was ironic to her that no one here was thrilled to head deeper into Venturil territory, seeing as technically speaking they were all in Venturil territory even now. Still, it’s not like Khitti and Quintessa didn’t raise excellent points. “I’ll admit,” the researcher began, “this sounds downright spooky. I’m totally in favor of recon. Oh, and Riamha? Really?” Jessie was already facing Quintessa Dragana again, this time with her eyes wide with excitement. “I know a guy who moonlights as a bartender over in Rynvale.” The fellow’s day job was less peaceful, but Jessie didn’t feel the need to clarify. “He’s mentioned Riamha before. I think his folks are followers, maybe? This is perf. Not only do we have a couple of great leads, we even have ourselves a castle from which to send teams over to investigate.” It was enough to make a girl like Jessie Raspberry all kinds of grinning. She was about to mention another painting when a bronze spear gathered among the artifacts, formerly one of the least eye-catching things in the room, abruptly began pulsing a rhythmic blue, as if it were about to explode. “Wait,” Jessie said, realizing that was unlikely to be the case. “I’ve seen weapons like these before! I think it’s warning us!” It wasn’t like Khitti, at least, wouldn’t have encountered – and even owned – weapons of a similar sort. But Jessie was wrapped up in her research, and knew only what she had seen in study chambers like this one. “I wonder if --” The woman’s inquiry was cut off sharply when Vigilanti Semper’s alarm horn blew loudly enough to bounce echoes down the stone from end to end. Something was approaching the castle, something at least ostensibly less-than-savory. Jessie’s eyes were wide again, this time with fear. She was no fighter.

Khitti || “Plagues. Mindflayers and their equally manipulative henchmen. Zombie dinosaurs,” Khitti said, adding on to Quintessa’s list. Was there anything else? There had to be. That place was a cesspool of awful. “Oh and wraiths.” Yeah. She couldn’t forget that wraith she’d helped Encara hunt ages ago. Khitti listened partially, half taking in the info, half trying to ignore Jessie’s enthusiasm. It reminded her somewhat of her twin sister Lydia’s ever-cheery optimism and that was just another demon she didn’t want to think about right now. The Raspberry woman made mention of the weapon glowing… and no sooner did Khitti look to where Jessie had been looking, did the alarm go off. This was where she’d tell Jessie ‘I’d told you so’, but Khitti was too busy at the moment lighting up a couple shadowfire balls. Once that was done though? “I frakking told you so.” Jessie might not be a fighter, but Khitti certainly was and she was going to use every ounce of that anger that’d been building today. Before there could be any sort of retort, Khitti was already out the door and down the hall, shadowstepping along the way to hasten her pace.

Quintessa smirked at Jessie's enthusiasm from behind her held cigarette. "I could have used someone with your energy months ago..." The young spellcaster wondered briefly how much gold it would take to hire this lass to come work as her assistant in Vailkrin before the floating weapon drew her attention. "Yes, this is a foresight enchantment utilized by-" Quintessa didn't have time to finish her explanation as the alarm sounded off. "Elazul's Bite..." she muttered. Could this day get any worse? As Khitti leads the way through the halls Quintessa turned back to Jessie and stamped her cigarette out on the floor. "Stay in here. Whoever is attacking picked the worst possible day imaginable to test us." And with that Quintessa slowly marched out, banging on doors as she passed through the halls. "Everyone! This is not a drill! I need archers on the battlements, NOW! Move it!" Despite the horrible anxiety creeping up inside her she was doing surprisingly well and the soldiers responded well to her command. "Never let them see you sweat." Quintessa reminded herself. As the archers all took their positions along the walls the lieutenant joined them, sending word down the line that any other available men and women should be either given a spear, or a shield paired with an axe or sword. "Who raised that alarm?" Quintessa called out to the men on overwatch. "Do we have visuals on the enemy?" Mismatched eyes of blue and hazel scan the horizon for an army, her heart already beating in her throat. Quintessa loved warfare, but this is not the mindset she thought she'd be in during her first siege.

Lionel || It wouldn’t take long before Quintessa received her answers, and not all of them had to be verbal. As she stood on the battlements, a swarm of foes was visible down below. They had arrived via boats – canoes, mostly, but a modified, war-ready caravel led the pack – and there were almost too many enemies to count. They were clustered together, which could prove a blessing to those proficient in the arts of offensive magics, but a fair few were also heavily-armed and armored. These seemed to be leaders among the crowd; the remainder were moving so erratically toward Vigilanti Semper that at times they almost seemed to be crawling. Thralls. Their eyes were bloodshot at best, and their claws were their greatest visible asset, though as soon as they reached stone walls, some smacked themselves into those walls violently, others lit up like fireworks, exploding and dealing real damage to the castle, and still more cast spells of ice and poison upon the first line of soldiers down in the courtyard. The thralls’ spells were weak individually, but combined, they were more than sufficient, and perhaps the most frightening thing about them was that the pillars and spears of frozen water – as well as the noxious clouds of fast-acting poison – didn’t merely extend horizontally. Much of the magic was hoisted effortlessly in a vertical direction, homing in on the archers quickly lining the battlements and causing evasion to be the order of the day even among those in the guild who were expressly designed for defensive countering. “Ma’am,” the most veteran of the archers said with a salute. “I raised the alarm.” As he spoke, the three archers best-located – all the way up at cliff’s edge far above Semper – fired a miniature volley at the thralls and their seemingly-human masters. At that range, accuracy took a nosedive, but with so many foes in clusters, a few of the thralls were struck down nonetheless. Had Khitti arrived upon the battlements alongside Quintessa? Could either of them, or both, avoid the poison and ice and mount a counterattack? If there was a singular leader along the armed forces, none was apparent, but the armored sorts slashed and beat upon Semper’s gate until they had made it into the courtyard, where they were quick with their hammers and axes and gauntleted fists. Cooks and nurses scampered every which way, and Jessie Raspberry – who had bravely rushed down the halls to join the soldiers down below – blurted “Shit, nope,” and ran back inside. She practically spun past a certain Frost Giant whose duty was to guard the armory. “You look nice and burly,” she told the Frost Giant. “Maybe save my life? Gotta go!”

Ihrakah || In the armory of the Vigilanti Semper, there stood a colossal suit of armor. Standing guard opposite the main entrance, it presided over the room with a hulking presence, grasping a huge ship’s anchor in its gauntleted fists. Rumours had been circulating around the keep for months as to the origin of this strange suit and why it was brought here. Some initiates reckoned that it was a relic from the Royal Academy of Aramoth, brought by Lionel from the training ground when the keep was being furnished, on account of the Frostmawian style and giant-made scale of the thing. Others thought it must have been reclaimed from the sea near Rynvale, on account of the horrific stench of dried seaweed and brine, and the strange choice of weapon it was posed with. One initiate in particular was convinced he had seen the damn thing in Aramoth’s Temple in Cenril, but he couldn’t be certain, it was quite a while ago. It transpired that they were all correct. Silent in its hulking vigil, the armor had remained inanimate since its installation, but as the alarm horn rang out around the keep, two pinpoints of blue balefire sparked to life behind the slotted visor of the helm. Wordlessly, the armor heaved itself to life, hoisting the anchor up onto its shoulder, and pushing off from the wall. The defenders, scrambling to gather their weapons and armor, could only watch in shock as this edifice they had walked past heedlessly for weeks suddenly roused itself and marched through the armory entrance. With heavy pounding strides and the cacophonous shrieking of corroded metal, the leviathan of barnacle-crusted steel began his slow battle-charge through the halls, parting the defenders before him as he set a course for the gate. Not so much as a glance was spared for anyone he passed, Ihrakah had heard Aramoth’s call and nothing could compel him not to answer. That was, until a certain Miss Raspberry spun daintily across his path. That garnered a pause, and the two points of blue light blinked. The colossal giant was used to gruff orders and shouted battle cries. Even in Kreeish. But that thing? With the bandana, disappearing into the crowd? That thing confused him. With a momentary shake of his head, Ihrakah resumed the charge, bringing himself into the courtyard, where it seemed the gate had been breached, flooding the yard with hostiles. “Fodder.” Ihrakah growled, correcting his own thought as he unshouldered his anchor. The long chain bolted to the base of the shaft rattled as he loosened it from his forearm, then the giant hurled the iron mass sky high over the crowd of intruders with a grunt. It seemed the forecast was for anchors that day.

Khitti || Sure, Khitti had led the way to the walls. She also let Quintessa take care of the ordering around of their subordinates. Why? Because Khitti was jumping off the wall at the moment. Yes. A human just jumped off the wall. Is she crazy? Yeah. Absolutely. Duh. Khitti was now thinking with portals as she used her shadowstepping to slow her fall, shadows gathering around her along the way. When she hit the ground finally, she found herself amongst one of the clusters. She let them gather ever so dangerously close and unleashed all the darkness she’d collected along the way. The thick, fog-like shadows engulfed the entire group of red-eyed thralls, hopefully distracting them long enough to allow Khitti to escape the group and set a ring of fire around them. She did the same to another cluster nearby, the redhead doing her best to take out whomever was still outside the walls, the shadowfire rings closing in on the groups, trying to contain them before snuffing them out entirely. She was going to trust that the archers up top were going to not actually hit her with those arrows of theirs.

Quintessa follow suit with the archers, taking cover behind a merlon as she spied on the army through the crenel. "They mobilized quickly..." Already the changeling can see they've suffered losses, but they still had the high ground and a Khitti. With the poison and the ice homing in, Quintessa knew she had to act fast to defend the archers. In all of her books on war, it was either archers or cavalry that won you wars, and bonus points if you could combine the two. What Quintessa could do with a small retinue of cataphracts right now. In disbelief the changeling watched as Khitti leapt from the high walls and shadow jumped to the ground, a technique that she would be trying copy one day. "Guess that leaves the defense to me..." Standing up from behind her barrier, Quintessa began to shimmer with the soft crimson glow of Arh'nuk, her magic shifting to full defense mode as she stood atop one the merlon she had just used as a shield. "Chwyrligwgan!!" Quintessa's voice echoed out across the battlefield as a vortex of wind manifested above the thrall spellcasters, sucking all of the poison inward and away from the archers. The changeling raised both hands up, defusing the poison as she prepared to defend against the ice as well. "Ton..." The sharpened ice sickles were already impacting the walls, taking out a couple archers unlucky enough to peak too early. One well-aimed shard of ice found Quintessa as well, glancing off her forehead and leaving a nasty gash in its wake. The changeling stoically ignored the pain and the blood dripping into her eye as she finishes the spell. "-gwres!" The temperature of the area spiked suddenly as she thrusts her hands out, causing the volley of ice to melt and evaporate into mist, obscuring them from further attack. The mist also diminished what the archers could see, but not Quintessa. With a single blue eye, the half-human used her hag-vision to pick out the best location to fire upon. "There!" the commanding officer pointed outward.

Quintessa continued, "Loose your arrows at the boats, take them out before they can reach the ground!" The lieutenant noticed movement below, but had not yet seen the might of Ihrakah. "What's going on down there? Spearmen! Defend the gate at all costs. If they get in we're finished!"

Lionel || The spearmen Quintessa ordered to the gates were only briefly slowed, and then only by an ally. The sight of Ihrakah’s hulking, metal frame sent shivers down their spines. “He’s with us,” the lead spearman observed, “which is good e-frakking-nough for me. Phalanx!” He and his subordinates entered into the classical formation, and even as thralls tore apart the iron-enforced wooden gate, many met their ends when iron spear tips struck their faces for true. One of the knight-like enemies leading the charge retreated from the gate, realizing this tactic was suddenly in vain, when a massive anchor landed squarely where he stood. There was no scream; only demise. Among those thralls who had managed to squeak through splinters in the wood and break into the courtyard prior to the start of the phalanx, there was now a pause. Soldiers stood behind and – bravely – beside Ihrakah, whose towering form brought trepidation among his foes. At once, multiple thralls rushed Ihrakah, detonating their very flesh within close range. Would the Frost Giant’s armor hold? Several others hissed, seethed, and blew conical ice toward the big man. Outside, clusters of thralls were struck by Khitti’s shadowfire, but whilst it was patently obvious that the Flare Guardian was thinning the ranks, she was also becoming surrounded by the armored leaders. They drew hammers and axes, and one raced toward her dead-on, metal knuckles braced with the intention of knocking the woman flat across the temple. “You are nothing,” one of them hissed. “Your generation is the flock.” Dark laughter filled the canyon. Canoes filled with would-be attackers were covered in arrows, further reducing the enemy’s number. Yet the leaders did not balk. These thralls were nothing but pawns to them. Pawns whose spellcasting effectiveness was unfortunately diminished due to a certain changeling. As the caravel’s cannons began to blast upon the castle walls, a lone, lithe figure with silver hair and black attire stepped out upon the deck. She felt her knights’ anxiety over Quintessa Dragana’s power. She smirked. “The cancer is mine,” she spoke softly, and just like that she was gone – she had reappeared directly beside Quintessa with a pristine, emerald-crusted katana swooshing in an arc for her target’s neck. With the blade’s steel came fire, too, fire which caught upon the cloth draped across the battlements and spread fear.

Ihrakah watched the anchor arc high with a cold indifference, until it began descending from its flight, the flat of the heavy iron facing down as it bore down for impact. Just as the anchor drew parallel with the ground, Ihrakah squared himself and yanked hard on the chain, ripping the weapon from its graceful plummet and into a deadly horizontal attack. The front line of attackers exploded as the anchor crashed through their ranks from behind, cutting them down like an immense scythe. The blood soaked anchor seemed to screech when it hit the flagstones, throwing up sparks as the leviathan dragged it back to him. Grasping the iron haft in his fists once more, Ihrakah stared down the broken line with cold blue fury, as the spearmen formed up on either side of him. The barnacled titan strode forward as the thralls mustered their courage, or mindlessness, and charged him. Ihrakah did not so much as flinch as they threw their bodies on him and detonated themselves. A cloud of blood, flesh and smoke enveloped the giant, and for a moment, it seemed like the thralls had done their task, stopping the towering mass of cold anger in its tracks. But the smoke stirred, then erupted as an anchor whipped out from its side, swinging in a deadly arc through the oncoming horde. Ihrakah stomped out of the smog, dents, scorchmarks and cracks aplenty across the front of his breastplate, but not enough to stop the giant. "Break their spirits, break the seige!" The giant roared, a macabre chant as he rallied his newfound comrades to battle.

Khitti had been doing a number of incredible things lately: literally parting the sea (with the help of that lovely blue-haired Kailani) as well as also creating a shadowy hand for Emilia (for whenever she’s no longer kidnapped) and has even started working on a shadow familiar for herself, made in the same was as Emilia’s new hand. Khitti was adding another to the list now as she summoned up shadow-ice in an effort to freeze all of the armored thralls to the ground. Even if she didn’t manage it, it wouldn’t matter. “Yes, I -am- nothing, aren’t I?” Without much more warning, Khitti forced open the second largest portal to the Shadow Plane that she’d ever created beneath her and everyone else that sought to take her down. The swirling mass shadows crackled at the edges, the very same black lightning Khitti sought to control, but had not been able to for some time. All fell through the portal, including the redhead, but using more of her ever-dwindling magic, she shadowstepped up quickly, just as they passed through to the Shadow Plane. Khitti did not count on a couple things, however. The first thing: she did not count on the fact that these thralls might be quick enough to grab hold of her and pull her down with them. The second? She was also unaware that the sinkhole in the Shadow Plane’s version of Venturil had grown much larger than its Lithrydel counterpart, likely thanks to the two villains that had been wreaking havoc there. The sinkhole was immense, and with it the Carybdis-like creature that dwelled within had grown as well over the past few months as the towns that had been around it fell down into the pit. Khitti had managed to grab onto the ground around the outskirts of the portal in Lithrydel and hung there, the rest of her body in the Shadow Plane, dangling over rows and rows of massive teeth, as the thrall that had went to knock her out did their best to make her fall. This was familiar. Too familiar. It was so close to the way she’d died before. Yet now, there was no Brand or Meri or Lionel. There was no Amarrah-Lydia amalgamation, and while that’d been rather terrifying, somehow dangling over an abyss filled with teeth was much much worse. She clung on, but for how long was a very serious question Khitti was now asking herself.

Quintessa felt a chill run along her spine as she sensed something different among the rabble. 'Sssshe issss coming for you.' Came Gospel's whisper in her ear, the eldritch snake watching the battle take place from the corrupted power gifted to the changeling long ago. As the cannon fire battered the walls, Quintessa knelt low, trying to maintain her balance, mismatched optics searching desperately for the one she was warned against. Like sensing a slight breeze, the changeling felt the pin-prick of someone's mana being channeled along the weave, picking them up and shifting their location in space-time. "Teleportation..." The words hadn't even left her mouth before she began to pivot, her legs sliding into a seated position on the barrier as her katana is swiftly drawn to absorb the blow of the enemy magic-user's weapon. The flames reach out further than Quintessa will allow the blade, the fires licking her clothes and singeing her hair. A cruel smile tugs at the corners of the changeling's mouth as she sword-locks this new adversary, the stoic lieutenant replaced by the 'Monster of Black Pond'. All the fear and anxiety that had cursed her all day had been taken from her, replaced with bloodlust by her puppet master, Gospel. After all, he could not let his favorite disciple fall victim to a lesser being's thrall, but along with those self-preservation based emotions when the edge of the girl's tactical mind. "I like your sword," Quintessa cooed, standing to give herself more leverage in the test of strength. Even though the sneak attack was unsuccessful, the plot to distract Quintessa had been a success. Now the changeling was personally invested in killing this woman. Taking advantage of both hands already being on her weapon, the hex blade wove photomancy based energies in the blade, empowering for her next spell. "Fflach!" Closing her eyes for a split second, Quintessa causes a bright flash of light to emit from her katana, hopefully blinding the woman long enough to follow up with her own attack. Pushing back out of the sword-lock, the swordswoman swept low, spinning in a full circle to carry enough momentum to sever the woman's leg if she could not avoid it.

Lionel || “Who is this guy?” one of the soldiers in the courtyard asked, shocked by Ihrakah’s survival. “Who cares,” another soldier – a raw recruit – shot back. “He’s a badass, and he’s on our side. Just do as he says.” If any in the guild were somehow unconvinced to follow Ihrakah’s war cry, they certainly set aside their reservations now. Just as the castle gate was torn apart, and even as the spearmen realized their phalanx could not stretch from side-to-side and thwart their would-be murderers in their tracks, the anchor swept through the enemy line followed by the nine soldiers inspired into battle by their lumbering ally’s example. Though one of the nine was quickly cut down, and another was skewered by ice, seven still charged, and the thralls at the gate were fast reduced to chopped meat. And that was how the eight of them, unseasoned and unprepared men and women led by a creature for whom war was an awakening, broke the enemy’s ranks and sent all but the powerful knights into the river, where many met a drowned man’s fate. Despite this victory, the heavily-armed caravel continued to fire upon the castle walls, and Vigilanti Semper’s forward-left stone hull began to buckle. It would not be long before the keep started to crumble, and it was through no fault of its master builders. When the leaders among thralls moved in for the kill, Khitti Herzegler’s unanticipated machinations caught each off-guard, though they did not fall over entirely. Still, there was a fear in their dull, yellow eyes when the Shadow Plane’s gargantuan monster sought for the feast. It wasn’t Xicotl, yet it was somehow similarly huge, and it existed on a plane of reality the thralls here today had no familiarity with at all. In an act of pure pragmatism, a few of the knightly creatures fully allowed themselves to fall prey to the monster beneath them, using the momentum from their fall to hoist their armored limbs into the air and push hard on the others. This suicidal act proved fortuitous to those whom had been selected to live, or whatever form of existence they even had going for them. Each emerged just beyond the scope of Khitti’s portal, resisting the spiraling gravitational pull within, and raised their weapon to strike the killing blow while she dangled. And then Khitti’s portal closed, sealed by means which were not at all her own, and the action stunned the armored thralls into backing away before the woman needed to find some way to fight back once more.

Lionel || Who on earth could have done such a thing? Any in or around Semper with even cursory knowledge of Khitti’s abilities would surely be wondering, any save for the slightly more masculine-looking person now standing upon the caravel’s deck where his, by all cursory examinations, identical twin had just vanished in favor of the battlements. Like his ‘twin,’ he wielded a katana, but his hair was even longer than hers and his gaze seemed somehow colder. “Don’t flatter yourself,” was all that he said as cannonballs beat into walls in front of his eyes. “There is nothing your era has that ours did not,” the female form finished her more male counterpart’s statement, Quintessa’s blinding flash doing nothing at all to faze her. “We are your mirror,” the male’s voice echoed across the battlefield. “Except prettier, perhaps,” the woman added smoothly despite the arduous motion she made – she let her knees loosen and brought her form halfway to a fall, blocking Quintessa’s slash with ample strength. “Tell your worldly masters,” the man started, “whomever they may be,” the woman continued, “that no fortress will be spared,” said the man, “no innocent lives ignored,” said the woman, “and Xicotl’s feast is unending.” It was delivered in unison. Despite their sudden vanishing act, both disappearing into the aether as their caravel left Semper’s walls close to crumbling yet left before finishing the job, there was perhaps one bit of joy Lady Dragana had earned: when the woman who had given her so little of the fight the changeling craved disappeared, she swung her katana straight for Quintessa’s face in an attempt to leave an ugly gash. In so doing, the woman had left her leg to her opponent’s fury, and she made a simple, guttural wince-and-groan during the vanishing.

Lionel || The thralls still in Khitti’s vicinity collapsed lifelessly with any other stragglers who had not fled. It was as if the enemy had conceded, and yet not conceded at all. Was it a test of the castle’s defenses? If so, surely the findings were mixed but not dire. Ihrakah had rallied soldiers terrifically; Khitti had destroyed swarms of thralls; Quintessa had led well. But there was no doubt that, barring events unforeseen, Xicotl’s ranks could have sent them all tumbling like so many weeds if they had continually pressed. “Just a warning,” Jessie Raspberry said breathlessly as she ran outside in the hopes of assisting Khitti if necessary. “That was a statement, and they made it. The good news is,” she winked, looking around at the dead, “so did we.”

Ihrakah's anchor dripped with gore and gunk, and stains mingled with the patina of rust on his gauntlets as the last thralls fell lifelessly to the ground. The giant stared down the river in the wake of the caravel, and the way the hulk's fists seemed to wring the haft of the anchor suggested that perhaps he was not happy this fight had ended so abruptly. Nonetheless, the armoured giant turned his back on the retreating vessel and began his slow plod back to the battered fortress, now unheeding of the allies he had been rallying just moments previously.

Khitti laid there for a time, after she was shoved up out of the portal and fully back into Lithrydel and the thralls had gone or died, before Jessie came along to help. She did not close that portal. No one else but the denizens of the Shadow Plane had been able to do so. Even Kahran had gotten his little tricks from someone from that realm. She needed to fix things over there, before things over here got worse. Khitti allowed Jessie to help her to stand, the redhead clearly exhausted. She managed a forced smile for the ever-cheerful woman, but sadly her words were of no comfort to Khitti. Khitti needed to kill the person that closed that portal--and soon.

Quintessa's hiss of pain is all the proof the mysterious woman needed to hear to affirm that the last spiteful slash to the spell blade's face was successful, the hot steel slipping right into her blind spot to nearly take out her left eye. Bearing a wound that stretched from cheekbone to ear, Quintessa screams out in frustration that her quarry escaped. "Cowards! Leaving us alive is a mistake!" The lieutenant wasn't wrong. Once word of this attack spread through the guild they would double their efforts to destroy Xicolt. Another scream echoed from Quintessa as her aura spiked with hostile energy right before slowly fading away. The bloodlust and adrenaline was subsiding, leaving behind the dirty feeling that came with having your brain toyed with. Dragging her sword behind her, Quintessa descended to the gates to meet the true heroes. "Phalanx." The odd girl greets them, happy to see that most of them made it. "You guys held the line. You protected the walls. Each one of you should be proud today." The changeling's voice didn't hold the force it held when shouting commands, but her conviction rang true; She really did appreciate the sacrifice on the ground. Pushing through the crowd she searched for the two that did the heavy lifting, Khitti and- "Who in the nine hells is this... Whale-Lord??" Quintessa was of course talking about Ihrakah. Her one good-eye spied Khitti, and she looked to the spot the once-portal had been opened. "Shadow plane stuff, huh?" The student could sense when something was bothering her teacher, "Just know I've got your back, okay."

Khitti stared at where her portal had been as Quintessa approached, the shadow-wielder looking from the ground, to her, then to Ihrakah. She only nodded at the changeling regarding the Shadow Plane before a frown pushed its way to the forefront, accompanied by a look of concern. She’d stolen one of Brand’s shirts that morning, as was her wont when she wanted to be left alone, but also still sort of near him. Well, she was going to have to get him a new one now. This one was getting torn up at the sleeves, the pieces long enough to cover the wounds on Quintessa’s face and be folded triple thick to soak up the blood. “You should go inside and get fixed up before you lose any more blood. I’m--” Khitti wasn’t going to finish her thought. She really didn’t know where she was going to go at the moment. She shook her head and ultimately decided to return to forest where she’d left her Tikifhlee to hunt--which would now be a bit of a walk for Khitti thanks to that severe lack of magic. Khitti was going to go do what Khitti does best, besides killing people with shadow magic: brooding in the peace and comfort of a random scary forest. Very far away from the sinkhole there.

Ihrakah was enroute back to the keep, set on returning to his vigil of the armory when Quintessa descended to the field, congratulating the phalanx in their defence of the keep. The giant paused when he recognised the changeling, they had briefly encountered one another once before. Raising his anchor from his shoulder, he held it out, dripping slime and blood in silent salute towards Quintessa, in the manner of the Frostmawian Guard, before it was returned with a ringing crunch to his shoulder. Without so much as a word, the spattered edifice of stench and steel turned and began stomping back into the keep, disappearing back into the bowels of the fortress to hibernate once more.