RP:The Battle for Chartsend

Part of the What You Leave Behind Arc

This is a Necromancer's Guild RP.

This is a Warrior's Guild RP.

Summary: Risking everything on a vision Blut experienced at the Temple of Judgment, Lionel rallies his allies to the plains just outside of Chartsend in hopes of intercepting one of Kahran's legions and saving the frontier town from certain slaughter. Khitti, Brand and Onyx open a portal to the Shadow Plane, confirming that the ethereal realm is what their enemies have been using to launch strikes throughout Lithrydel. Once they arrive on the other side, the three of them sabotage the legion just before its trip through the portal, giving their friends a fighting chance. Just before the fighting starts, a woman named Raevyn appears, fleeing something unseen.

Lionel, Pilar, Kreekitaka, Krice, Blut, Esche, Uma and Yozenra band together alongside a ragtag team of Chartsend militia, crack Frostmawian troops, and free witches to ambush the weakened-but-still-mighty legion in the field. Despite the element of surprise, the alliance comes perilously close to losing Chartsend when the legion's wraithen commander launches an arcane spell. It is only through the heroism of all those gathered here today -- and the sacrifice of some of their peers -- that the wraith and its legion are annihilated. Lithrydel scores a victory worth celebrating, but with the alliance coming so close to failure against even just one of Kahran's many legions, how much solace can these folks truly take?

CHARTSEND: THE FLAT LANDS

PHASE 1: PRELUDE, SABOTAGE

Lionel | Someone once said it’s always darkest before the dawn. With purple notes in the distant eastern sky, Lionel’s not sure they were right, and yet the tension that he feels swelling up inside him seems to have confirmed it so. Here in the forested plains near the frontier town called Chartsend, the only noise is the din of crack Frostmawian troops mingling with Tranquility crewmen and Chartsend local militia. It’s a slim fighting force designed to move with efficiency and ambush an enemy Lionel hopes will soon emerge. The various allied soldiers are dressed in greens and tans to better camouflage them; even those wearing heavy armor have tinted their plate mail accordingly. They cannot risk being spotted prematurely. Through Blut’s painful vision at the Temple of Judgment, Lionel has been led to believe that Kahran’s next move will be an all-out assault on Chartsend. Thereafter, Lionel had told Khitti and Brand that the assassin’s actions would prove either a powerful boon for their efforts or some vile trickery to weaken them. Now, as those purplish clouds portend the dawn, Lionel and all the rest of them are about to learn just how reliable Blut truly is.

Lionel | “We’re gathered here today to send evil a message,” Lionel says sharply. “Every step they take on our soil, we will push them back. Every life they have taken will be repaid in kind. Every town, city, hamlet they seek to destroy, we will stand vigilant. If they want this realm, we invite them to come right on up and try. We are everywhere. And we are united.” He eyes Khitti and Brand. A softness overtakes his countenance. “These two are about to hop on over to the other side, to where we think Kahran’s been coming from. It’s a dangerous place, that Shadow Plane. They’re going it alone. If they find proof that an attack is imminent, they’ll do what they can to sabotage those bastards from within.” Lionel’s attention returns to the rest of the alliance. “Meanwhile, the rest of us are to remain here and wait. All of us except you, Krice. You’re the fastest of us all and you’re lightning-quick with that sword, too. I’d like you to sprint across the field. Hide behind a hill and if you see the enemy teleport in then hit their flank to confuse ‘em as soon as you see us charge from the treeline. Good luck, everyone. And godspeed.”

Pilar and Yozenra stood with the Chartsend milita, armed and armored. Pilar looked uncomfortable in her leathers while Yozenra seemed right at home in her borrowed platemail, holding her signature trident. The naga and vampire were holding hands as they waited, for fear that this would be the last time they would know the other's touch, though neither spoke those concerns aloud. Pilar's eyes went to Khitti and Brand and she frowned. She understood why they had to go alone, but she didn't have to like it. She would have volunteered to go with, if she'd known about that part of the plan. She glanced then at Krice, whose abilities she didn't know, but she trusted him, and Lionel. She hoped to gods this would work.

Khitti :: Everyone was wearing those familiar colors of camouflage, but not Khitti. No, today’s attire would be all black, a stark contrast to all the colors she’d been wearing of late--how else was she supposed to blend in when they were in the Shadow Plane? Lionel had started his little speech and Khitti couldn’t help but smirk, nudge Brand a little, and whisper to him, “He always says he hates these speeches of his, but I think he’s lying. He’s--” Khitti coughed awkwardly as Lionel directed the masses (okay, so there’s not -that many- people; but it sure as hell felt like it) towards Khitti and Brand, her face turning a bright crimson. “Ahem. Yes. We will… do the thing.” Perfect. You’re so eloquent, Khitti. If she hid behind Brand right now, do you think anyone would notice? Everyone would? Okay. No hiding then.

Khitti hid her still red face beneath the hood of her duster instead as Lionel went on to explain to the rest of the group what they were to do. Yes. Don’t look at her anymore. Once they were dismissed, Khitti would pull Brand and Onyx over to what seemed like an okay spot for a portal, beneath the cover of some tightly knit trees. A brief once-over of things is made, making sure they had everything, and then Khitti was creating the shadow portal. Her own was vastly different from the ones that had opened on the bridge the day she died or when Kahran’s forces attacked Cenril. Shadowy tendrils clung to the trunks of the trees, helping to pry the portal open. Hesitating momentarily, Khitti took a deep breath, side-eyed Brand briefly, and then sighed and jumped through the gate--and made sure to close it behind them so no one else could enter it.

Khitti :: Once on the other side, it was obvious that things were not as they’d left it several months ago. Nearby in the Harbor of Horrors, fires razed in the town, leaving great plumes of smoke to rise to the heavens. The smell of burning flesh was in the air, given off by whatever Darkfel hadn’t been able to flee the city, the poor little feline creatures given a terrible fate carried out by the same army that was awaiting the order to strike Chartsend on the other side of the veil. Nearly two thousand orcs, trolls, slaad, and drow littered the flatland, and Khitti, the captain, and his first mate just barely managed to enter the realm far enough away from them. Taking careful precautions, an aura of shadows radiated from Khitti to further the camouflage, surrounding not only her, but Brand and Onyx as well, helping to aid in whatever illusions the undead might use if they chose to. “What do you two think? And now’s not the time for sarcasm and jokes. Francis could help. Or we could just light up the place. The Harbor’s practically gone now anyway it looks like, so a little more fire won’t hurt.”

Krice stood alongside Lionel, staring ahead at the field over which he would soon be sprinting. Along the left side of his neck, visible beneath the collar of his shirt, was a patchwork of gauze that stopped just shy of his throat, wrapping over the muscle that lead to his shoulder and disappearing beneath the black fabric. Whatever injury lay beneath the dressing didn't seem to bother the warrior. With katana in hand and angled in a reverse-grip behind his back, blade upward and parallel to his spine, he listened to the morale-boosting speech spoken by his blonde counterpart. Two warriors clothed in black, ready to lead the charge. While Khitti and Brand prepared for their journey along the other plane to precede their allies, the silver-haired enigma looked on, gazing through the trees that provided them cover. He could see the entire landscape, and yet nothing at all stood out. As before, during his own attack by a Kahran-drawn squad further east in the Xalious Mountains, he was barely able to feel the sixth sense caused by the watchful eyes on the other side, at least not from this far. Once given the go ahead, Krice nodded his acknowledgment of Lionel's observations--he was fast, faster still with the katana in hand--and stepped behind the Steward of Frostmaw to run through the trees sprawling alongside the group of defenders. His speed matched the confidence placed in him by Lionel, and within seconds he was gone from sight. He turned, several metres away from his allies, and sprinted for the clearing, crossing the open plains in bursts of speed that superceded his sustained pace, too quick for more prolonged movements than these. Katana still held behind him, the warrior found a hill and small cospe of trees behind which he crouched. From this closer vantage point, far removed from his comrades, the enigmatic swordsman was more capable of detecting things that weren't on this plane. Still he struggled, thus was the very nature of inter-planary exposure. Silently, he awaited the charge of his comrades, his keen senses attuned to his surroundings.

Hudson | In the wake of the Bloody Election, Uma Abelin, widow of murdered mayor-elect Fitz Johnson, had been recognized as one of the saviors of the city and, on that basis alone, sworn in as Cenril's 'interim' mayor, with the understanding that she'd eventually be replaced through a democratic process, whatever that meant in a city run by organized crime. When the crisis was over. That was a phrase people said to one another, often. When the crisis was over. Uma is trending, though, and now that she's no longer responsible for making seedless grapes happen, she's been flexing witch muscles she'd long ignored. Her taste for real magic had been reawakened by the Bloody Election, and her grief. As mayor in crisis, she'd gotten word of the predicted attack on Chartsend, and she'd garbed herself in a dark headscarf and earth-colored battle robes, both items threaded in magic that would shift to camouflage her into her surroundings. Rather than insert herself and throw her weight around as Cenril 'interim mayor,' whatever that means, she's instead chosen to hang back among those gathered. As Krice sprints forward at Lionel's request, however, her hands move in the air, as if knitting it. Her lips move soundlessly, and it is as if a magical curtain has fallen in front of the group. It gleams briefly with blue sparks of magic before fading into complete transparency. There's a certain thickness in the air to those who would touch the place where it had been, though. To those who noticed this minor barrier was her doing, Uma merely nods. It's not meant for those on the front lines, it's meant to protect those who provide support, like her.

Brand was dressed down today relative to his normal garb, only wearing a loose shirt of deep indigo, dark pants, and a small pack stuffed to the brim with emergency supplies, including two of those air masks they’d needed last time they’d gone to the Shadow Plane. He took Khitti’s elbowing in good humor, though up to that point he’d honestly looked a little bored by Lionel’s speech. He’d heard such sentiments more than most, lately, being one of those closest to the famous Catalian prince. It’s the end of the world. We’re gonna fight back or die trying. All that jazz. There must be plenty in the crowd who would benefit from that kind of speech, but Brand found it easier to assume it was -always- the end of the world, which also paradoxically meant it was -never- the end of the world. Which meant there was nothing to worry about, and no pep talk was necessary. Well, it was logic that made sense to a brain running on about four hours’ sleep, anyway. “Righto. Let’s get this over with.”

Brand || Khitti opened her portal, and Brand and his first mate, the undead ‘child’ Onyx, stepped through. Even if Khitti hadn’t been working her shadow magic, Onyx had more than enough illusion power to keep all three concealed from the army… thankfully, or against this many it would have been a quick and nonetheless awful death. “Well, that’s more than we’d bargained on, isn’t it? Frakkin’ hell.” Even Brand’s curse was no more than a whisper; the risk of being heard, even from their relatively safe spot, was too much. “I don’t think regular fire’s as much good here, remember? Not that I don’t -want- to set everything ablaze more’n it already is, but maybe you two and Francis oughta take point here. I’ll be backup, get you three out of tight spots as it’s needed. And… be -careful-, peach. Onyx, you attack as you can, but your priority’s on keepin’ this illusion up. They can’t hit us if they can’t see us.”

Nasada :: Raevyn was lost. Really lost. One moment she was in the Xalious Tower's library, studying and taking notes, and the next she was in this strange field in the middle of nowhere. It wasn't the first time a nap had taken her away from comfort and familiarity, but it wasn't something she wanted to get used to, either. And to make matters worse? Off in the distance, that damned zombified corpse was still stalking her. It tried to hide in the shadows. It tried to stay back far enough so that she would not notice- Yet she did, and it creeped her out. What did it want? 'First things first, Raevyn'- She told herself. She needed to figure out where she was. Not far from where she stood a town was spied, her footsteps picking up a hurried pace toward what she presumed as safety. It was the sound of Lionel's voice that caused the young necromancer to stop her progress, the pale blue of her gaze searching from where the noise originated. It took some time, but she would find the man whom spoke so eloquently, and the small battalion present. There was now hope on Raevyn's face, and like a dunce, she began to cross the fields in their direction at a much slower pace than the man she saw running. The young novice had no real idea of the potential dangers that were coming.

Blut wasn't on the main battle field with the soldiers he had no chance against the forces they were up against in his state. Blut blinded himself in order to get to this situation well one could call it blindness but benith the wraps that covered his eyes he could see the world very differently then before. He could see the raw essence of mana rather than seeing the army infront of him various colours in a blinding intensity. Some glowed a radient gold whilst others had a malicious black all forms of magic were now visible to him Khitti's portal was especially bright to him causeing him to shield his eyes. Seeing pure mana but not faces made it hard to identify a individual as such he had support. A elven archer stood on the tree next to him Liliten a member of his gang the blooded triad. She held her bow to her side firmly protected with her leather armour. Blut was wearing his civilian garbs a simple white shirt and brown pants with chain mail hidden benith the innocent cloth. He had only his holy dagger in his possetion for his other weapons required precision something he did not have at this moment.

Kreekitaka was here, mingling with the crew from the Tranquility, along with several of his own soldiers. All were armed with jawblades and shields, and wore extra layers of armor atop their own hardened carapace. Kree himself was a little ways back from the rest of his men, and had a few extra things—a lance, for starters, as well as a device which partially resembled an oversized crossbow and a collection of javelins. Oh yes, and a dinosaur. Now I know what you’re thinking. “But, Kree, this is a stealth force. How is a giant dinosaur stealthy?” As it turns out, the large theropod had the perfect coloration for blending into the plant life, and as long as it kept low and still, it could lie in wait almost indefinitely. Ambush predator to the bone. Kree had armed himself with weaponry meant for fighting on dinosaur-back and was eager to test it out. Curiously, his troops seemed… nervous. Most times, uyeer are chomping at the bit to get into combat. Now, they shifted with unease, fidgeting with their weapons. No amount of reassurance Kree had given them beforehand--nor even Lionel's speech--had alleviated this behavior, and it was unsettling to him. He’d have to talk to Lionel about this afterward. He could feel it, deep down—something was wrong. As the portal to that realm opened and he caught a glimpse of how dark it was inside, he couldn't help but utter a short prayer to Hyu--it reminded him of the legends of the Fourth World, and nobody wanted the demons from the Fourth World getting out.

Lionel | Waiting. It’s the hardest thing there is. For all the valor and arguably insane bravery that comes with battle, it’s the waiting that feels the heaviest. Lionel is crouched within the underbrush, dressed nimbly in his black silk button-up shirt and matching pants with the great prismatic scabbard of his blade, Hellfire, strapped to his back. He waits. While waiting, a figure -- Raevyn -- emerges from the field and flocks toward his hidden army. Well, this is a touch awkward. His voice does carry, but he hadn’t anticipated any interlopers. When the unexpected happens, it’s best to match one’s tone and candor to suit, so Lionel -- who has just moments ago finished rallying his small ragtag battalion -- scratches the stubble on his cheek and waves Raevyn over. “Hey. You. Take cover, maybe. This is about to get ugly any second. This place will soon be swarming with the sorts of hellspawn I’d rather not detail. Or fight. But that’s what we’re about to do. We’re about to fight the aforementioned swarming hellspawn. Literally right on that field,” he points for emphasis, “as soon as they emerge from funky green portals or something.” Lionel stares at Raevyn. Esche, Lionel’s shaven-headed elven companion, tests the magical energy of Uma’s barrier with his staff. The elf smiles tightly in appreciation and bows to Cenril’s interim mayor. The Frostmawian troops, mainly Frost Giants, are getting antsy. The fighting crew of the SS Tranquility is, too. Someone’s whistling very gently, like a songbird, just because. The Chartsend militia are probably the most nervous of them all. This is their town, and they’ve heard how many died in Cenril. Lionel sighs, watching the air where Khitti and Brand and Onyx had vanished. Silently, he worries for them.

Pilar watched the portal swallow Khitti, Brand and Onyx, and wondered if they'd ever be seen alive again. She wondered how many people might never be seen alive again after today. “Yozi...” she murmured, “don't... don't die, okay?” It was a silly, childish request, but it was born of worry. Yozenra squeezed Pilar's hand. “I won't. Not with you watching my back,” the naga replied. Pilar looked up at her, eyes large and sad and worried. Yozenra leaned down and captured a quick kiss. “It'll be fine,” she said. It was at that moment that Lionel addressed Raevyn, and Yozenra stood ramrod straight, fist tightening around her trident. If this was an agent of the enemy, she'd skewer her in a second. Pilar, meanwhile, was staring at Lionel, her free hand flexing, ready to cast at any second.

Hudson | Uma passes the time murmuring incantations, her hands weaving the air as they had before, targeting the various party members gathered here. She doesn't have time to give everyone all the blessings, she makes choices, quickly, based on what she sees, on everyone's position. Here is a non-exhaustive list of temporary enchantments she's given: To Lionel, Esche, and Brand, she grants speed; to Pilar and Yozenra, strength; to Krice, Khitti, and Kreekitaka and friends, a protective bubble that is capable of absorbing some light damage before falling away; to Blut and Liliten, who appear to be ranged attackers, she gives the power of camouflage, making them difficult to detect, like her. She doesn't give Raevyn a blessing because she's unsure if the woman's friend or merely an observer as of yet (it's nothing personal).

Nasada :: Raevyn's hopeful look fades into worry now, as Lionel addresses her specifically with word of the coming battle. Hellspawn? First undead stalkers, and now she finds herself in the middle of possible war... with hellspawn?! Booted feet begin to pick up the pace and as she nears, she just so happens to trip over a loose stone concealed by the tall grass. Cheeks flushed, embarrassment settled in, and it wouldn't take long for her to scramble up and into treeline where the band of warriors and magii lie in wait. "I'm so sorry!" she exclaims with a hushed tone, worried that she might have given their position away. She truly had no idea. She wanted to ask where exactly they happened to be. She wanted to know more about why they were waiting in ambush for this army. She wanted to know who this man was and those that he were to fight along side. yet, she thought better of it. it was neither the time nor the place. Especially the place. A place she should never have been at all. Still feeling a tad awkward, her black tresses bobbed with a nod toward the front line whom had perhaps seen the woman's approach, quickly to find a place in the forested area to hide out for the time being.

Khitti was rather pleased with Brand’s decision. Why not both? Yes, this is good. She’s almost giddy at the thought of raining down shadowfire and brimstone on the crowd of horrid beings before them and having the best spiderdoggo in the ‘verse help her. Okay, and Onyx too. “I’ll be fine. I promise. If I have to move, I won’t go far.” With a few somatic gestures, Francis was called forth from his own portal, leaving his home in The White Woods to the east, to join his adopted parents and aid their cause. Francis did not come alone, however. Quite unexpectedly, a swarm of housecat-sized white spiders also made their way out of the portal--Khitti and Brand were grandparents now, it seemed. “Ohhh my.” Khitti cleared her throat awkwardly, then focused on the task at hand, choosing to address the topic of her new title of Grandmother of Spiders later on. “Okay, Francis,” she whispered to the cow-sized, white arachnid and his children, “I need you and all your little ones to help Momma, alright? Keep quiet, and when I give the signal, all of you can go get your dinner.” Spider butt wiggles were given in response, and a bit of a nuzzle. Francis is a good boy, the best boy.

Khitti :: When everyone was ready, Khitti would focus her magic on the biggest fireball she could manage--thanks to the enhancement of her abilities in the Shadow Plane--and lobbed in such a way that might prevent their position from being discovered. The massive ball of purple flames arched across the skies and landed on the outskirts of Kahran’s horde like a meteor, leaving smoke and scorched land in its wake. Francis took the attack as the signal Khitti spoke of and leapt into battle, letting out terrible spidery screeches once he and his children were in the fray. Mandibles gnashed here and there, the spiders chomping off body parts and leaving their mark with the awful venom they had at their disposal, further disabling any of Kahran’s forces that they’d come in contact with. Staying within Onyx’s shield, Khitti would summon up more fire, the orbs smaller this time so it didn’t use up as much of her magic, and continued her assault, occasionally shifting her position to get as many of the creatures in range as possible.

Blut looked at Liliten before glanceing over his body. He saw the vibrant colours of the spell encase him and his partner before snapping his head forward seeing a small spec of light break off from the main force. He raised his hand causeing Liliten to draw her bow before dropping it concludeing it was not a threat. Blut focused his attention back to the army looking for any major fluxuations that could lead to a bigger player or a devistateing curse.

Kreekitaka thanked the woman quietly for her bubble of protection and revised his strategy a little bit. If the bubble scaled with size, that meant his dinosaur would have a somewhat thicker shell than the rest of them. And that meant he’d be able to properly wade into the fight and scatter his attackers with a direct charge. Perhaps it’d be better to save it for if some kind of heavy cavalry were to come through, though? Or should he proceed with his original plan and move around to a flanking position so as to skewer an entire row of enemies on his lance while firing spears, so as to sow confusion and terror? He supposed it would have to depend on where precisely the enemy would appear. His troops gestured as quietly to each other as they could—if even they needed extra protection, precisely what were they going to be up against? If it hadn’t been for the need to be quiet, Kree would have cracked one of his tails like a whip and ordered them to shut up, that this behavior was unbecoming. Cowardly uyeer. How disgraceful.

Brand, when Khitti’s signal went off, kept his eyes on Francis and his many spider spawns. As long as Khitti stayed out of range of any wayward arrows or magic, Brand could focus his efforts on supporting their eight-legged friends, protecting them from counter attack with shields of ice that materialized in the air or shot up from out of the earth. Though there may be hundreds of them to keep track of, Brand’s goal was to keep as many of them alive as he possibly could, while they tore into the enemy.

Brand || Onyx’s task was simpler, in a way. The undead illusionist kept themselves, Khitti, and Brand concealed from sight, kept the location of their magical energy undetectable. Francis, they could conceal as long as they stayed close, but for the most part he and the spiderlings were on their own.

Brand || Seconds passed, a minute, two, five. The army was in chaos. An invisible enemy rained fire down upon them from above. Spiders flitted in and out of sight, guarded by magic of ice and stone when the combatants tried to counter-attack. For every spiderling they successfully slayed, several dozen of the army died. But of course, this could not hold forever. Hundreds, perhaps still over a thousand still remained when Onyx called for the retreat: their magic was at its limit, and would soon wane, leaving the lot of them exposed. Time for Khitti to make portals back to the other side, so she and the spiders, Brand and Onyx could all make it back to the army of Lithrydel -- the army of life.

PHASE 2: CLASH, TURMOIL

Lionel | The wait is over. As the eastern purple sky creeps steadily westward and the first beams of orange crack the horizon, the open field near the forest sprouts the telltale magical green energy tendrils which always seem to portend the arrival of Kahran’s forces. In that field, situated between Chartsend and Lionel’s own camouflaged forces, the air seems to thicken as the energy tendrils throb and resonate hauntingly. “Here we go,” Lionel whispers, but in the dead air expanding from the field, he can be overheard by anyone in the ranks. Like clockwork, fierce orcs in leather jerkins with crude bone clubs spawn from the portals, followed by towering trolls fitted in brass and steel armor with a wide array of chosen weaponry. Then come the slaad, those outlandish-looking frog-like bipedal beasts Krice fought before anyone else, as tall as any troll and blubbery enough to take a hit. Then the drow arrive, slimmer in number and adorned in engraved silver mail with the sigils of old, dead houses. Each successive wave of enemy troops takes up positions, with the orcs and slaad at the front ranks and the trolls behind, and the drow -- the casters, whose palms are already glowing with the makings of fiery spells to besiege the town even as they appear -- are all kept in the middle, safe from any potential melee. There must be near to a thousand. The army seems agitated, and more than a few of them stare balefully at their portals as they close. Something must have spooked them on the other side; good work, spiders. The last creature to arrive is also the most powerful. A wraith, its face like pale ice and its eyes gleaming a cold gold, wields a beautiful malachite-hewn scythe like a conductor wields a baton. The wraith begins a march straight for Chartsend’s great wooden gate, and its thralls all follow with haste. It has begun.

Lionel swallows hard and suppresses lingering fear in the wake of all this. A head-on confrontation with one of Kahran’s legions was precisely what he sought; he cannot afford to dawdle or dwell now. He rises from the underbrush, drawing Hellfire. The sword’s black steel ignites into emerald flame. “Look upon the face of evil,” he requests, “and be sure in your hearts you will do whatever it takes to end it before it ends the ones you love. Let’s mosey.” And so he charges, the first into the fray, because if he isn’t willing to lead then how can he expect anyone else to follow? Red streaks mar the ground as Lionel taps into his sword’s Ishaarite magics and Uma’s own supportive spells to increase his speed to truly incredulous degree, and he’ll carve into the necks of several backline foes before they know what hit them. Out of the spiders’ den and into the Hellfire.

Pilar released Yozenra's hand and the couple charged forward, with the rest of Chartsend's militia. The warriors collided with Kahran's forces and the battle began in earnest. Yozenra thrust her trident into an orc and, with Uma's power flowing through her, lifted the creature from the ground and swung the trident in an arc, sending the orc flying into the crowd. She dodged a troll's club and speared the creature in the face. Pilar had turned herself invisible and was racing with her vampire-enhanced speed through the ranks. She was armed only with her fists and her magic, and she used them well. She kicked the feet out from under a troll, elbowed an orc in the throat, and set off arcane flashbangs left and right. She managed to get even deeper into the enemy ranks, unseen as she was, and made it to the drow casters. Now the party was really going to start. Lightning flew from her fingertips and jumped from drow to drow, stunning them and leading to a pile of paralyzed prestidigitators.

Krice :: As soon as the atmosphere cracked with the arrival of Kahran's forces, Krice rushed forward to split their ranks from the periphery, his sword brandished beside and then ahead of him. With calculated strikes aimed at vital points not covered by the offenders' armour, he cut down their forces and moved through the thick of the charge, culling numbers at an efficient rate - which would undoubtedly exhaust him later. For now, Krice was moving without showing signs of wear or slowing down, for the most part avoiding serious injuries and ignoring superficial ones. He had to thin Kahran's numbers, to help his allies closer to Chartsend - to help Chartsend itself.

Hudson | Uma cannot possibly bless everyone here in attendance. But they still have a little time and she tries, though it depletes her and she has to increasingly pause, to refresh her energy. After a point, she stops altogether, as the skies are darkening with Kahran's calling card. Now it's of the essence that she conserve her energy. Kahran's army is considerable in size. A palpable fear moves through the ragtag army gathered here: there is such a thing as too big. Lionel's words barely have time to resonate, he's leading the charge. Uma, for her part, advances with the fellow casters, remaining at a safe distance and, if possible, out of line of sight. With her are other witches, mages. They hadn't officially discussed their roles, but casters tended to hang back, always, find their own. Uma's gaze briefly marks Raevyn's, potentially identifying her as one of them. As Lionel and the front line of melee collide with Kahran's minions in a bloody spray, Uma's face goes white. They'll be flanked in not too long with numbers like these. "We have to make a wall or we'll be overrun, squeeze them!" she shouts to her fellow casters. Her arms go rigid in front of her, shaking with the powerful word she speaks. An invisible barrier abruptly knocks back several of Kahran's horde. There's no telling how long it runs, or how much damage it can sustain, but it'll hold for the moment. A moment is all they need, and Uma's started a trend. The mages and witches beside her are adding to it. It's a patchwork quilt of barriers, no one is the same, but the net effect is to abruptly squeeze Kahran's side through a funnel.

Khitti :: Kahran’s hellspawns started their descent into the other realm, leaving their charred friends behind to attack those waiting in Chartsend. The onslaught of Khitti’s magic wouldn’t cease just yet as she continued to pick off the stragglers, letting Francis and his children do most of the work until all of Kahran’s creatures were through the portals entirely. There were casualties on both sides, unfortunately, but Khitti couldn’t focus on that now. No sooner did the remnants of the army leave did Khitti make them a new portal, allowing them to return and help once more back in Lithrydel.

Khitti :: They’d return in nearly the same spot they’d left and it was then that Khitti realized Uma had placed some sort of spell upon her, the protective bubble likely dampened over in the Shadow Plane. Spent on her magic for now, she’d retrieve the black ice bow, Diamond Dust, from where it’d been fixed on her back, nocked an arrow into place and let it loose when Lionel started his charge. More would be nocked and released in as much of a flurry as she could manage now without her vampiric agility, Khitti making damn sure not to stray too far from Brand’s side, lest she get yelled at about it later. She had no interest in being up there on the front lines, not anymore. As her arrows struck their targets, or the ground beside them, the arrows would explode, as usual, into shards of ice, embedding themselves in flesh or dirt.

Brand, now that they were back on the ‘proper’ plane, could let loose as he wished. Not one to be outdone by Khitti, he sent his own major fireball careening down on the army from overhead, aiming to form one even bigger than Khitti’s had been on the Shadow Plane and knocking out as many of the army as possible in a single blow. It ended up being close enough in size that the victor of his little contest was impossible to determine, but that wouldn’t stop him from gloating about it later. And he, too, had a shield, but he would not be heading into melee range today. It might save his butt from any arrows sent his way, but he preferred to stay back where he could keep an eye on Khitti and an eye on the front lines. He would once again lend his support where it was needed, springing up shields here and there to protect the flanks of Lithrydel warriors.

Brand || Onyx, meanwhile, had only their bow to rely upon until their magic could replenish. Their bow might not have properties as impressive as Khitti’s, but their skill could almost make up for it. One arrow after another was loosed, and when their first quiver was emptied they found the spare they’d hidden by the lone tree and emptied that, too.

Nasada :: Raevyn wasn't not mentally prepared for what was coming through those fissues between worlds. Many of these creatures she had not once laid eyes upon, aside from the crude drawing that decorated the tomes she researched. In pictures they were interesting and she would have loved to see them up close, but in reality? Downright terrifying. As the sound of battle broke out, Raevyn curled up behind a tree and shielded her head with her frail arms. The sound of stray arrows whipping past made sure that she stayed put. Maybe, just maybe if she didn't move or make a sound, she would be spared- yet this would not be the case. As those pallid eyes looked around the cover to the trunk she hid behind, a stray drow happened to be staring in her direction. The dark skinned elf began to sprint toward the young necromancer and she had to quickly act. From the satchel she carried the wand that was gifted by Gheneroc was produce, the magically inclined weapon pointed in her attacker's direction. She had no idea on what to do, so she began to chant the first thing that came to mind- That very phrase the mountain dragon had taught her. "Voth Suleyk Fid Dii Fen..." Nothing. "Voth Suleyk Fid Dii Fen!" Still, nothing. The armored drow was now upon the unskilled necromancer, ready to strike. And as she tried to speak those words again, she would find that her voice nowhere to be found. She shut her eyes and waited for death. It would take a moment, but when no blow fell upon her, she finally looked up to see the drow at her feet. And there upon his corpse, the undead creature that had been stalking, was feasting upon the exposed flesh of the drow's throat. Slowly, Raevyn tried to crawl backward, looking for some place that she could safely hide.

Blut looked up at the sky as he pointed at the sky. Where he saw the fireballs falling from the sky from the artiliery mages. The mages themselves had a much stronger light eminateing from them. Carefully instructing Liliten he would locate the weakest point of the bolts and when they got close enough about 2 m she would draw back her bow and fire. The arrows were enscribed with runic magic causeing the arrows to implode with force when exposed to magic. These arrows theoretically should force the fireballs to fall apart and dissipate harmlessly in the air. Blut strained his eyes from under his wraps as he looked at the very back noticeing there was something larger bigger. Blut informed this to Liliten who could not indentify the creature just yet. Blut nodded as he pointed at the arc she should fire her arrows to hit the mages hideing behind their infintary. Hopfully this should help clear the skys of magic.

Kreekitaka chose now to crack his tails like whips, and gave his mount a hard kick in the ribs, urging it forward. It seemed the enemies already had their back to them. A little intimidation never hurt anyone. His monstrous carnivore rose up taller than anything the opposing force had brought, and he was determined to make it louder. A light tap with his claw in just the right spot, and his carcharodontosaurus let loose a roar. Any dragon would be proud of this horrific war-cry—deep-throated, from the belly, the sound shook the entire animal and could be heard for miles in every direction—likely even in the shadow plane. Not every animal can boast like that; it would seem Kree might have somehow given his creature voice lessons. The roar was accompanied by pounding footsteps, thundering across the field towards them. Kree swatted his jawblade against the creature’s flank, building up a charge, and aimed low with his lance as he crashed into a wall of enemies, impaling more than half a dozen of them on the tip before he dropped it and aimed his jawblade out into the sea of foes—and pressed the blue button. That sound—that thunderclap of noise which heralded destruction—was also audible for miles, and its effects would be immediate, with an entire wave of foes being blown over as if a bomb had gone off in their face. Speaking of bombs, his free claw rapidly switched to his spear-thrower, and hurled a javelin towards a Slaad’s face. Regardless of whether it hit him or not, on impact, its head burst, hurling needles in every direction laced with a fast-acting paralyzing venom. Every few seconds, another spear would fly, and his jawblade flashed as well, swinging low with the toothed side forward, building up charge. So too was his dinosaur involved—not just a mount, but a weapon in its own right. Teeth the size of daggers clamped down on necks, feet crushed armor, a spinning tail became a battering ram. The uyeer king wreaked chaos and death with every movement—and could be heard cheering, once the deafening sound of his beast’s roars had stopped ringing in people’s ears. “You are HHHTHe weakesTAH!, mosTAH! paHHHTHeTAH!ic forces I have ever faceDAH! I foughTAH! insecTAH!s more DAH!angerous HHHTHan you! If any of you survive, you run back TAH!oo Kahran an’ expyain TAH!oo him HHHTHaTAH! KreekiTAH!ka, GoDAH! Of War, is coming for him!” The other uyeer in his party were… less eager to jump into the fight, but never let it be said that they weren’t going to desert their leader! They chased after him, swinging their jawblades and hurling throwing-drills and more of those poison-needle burst-bombs—not faring quite as well in wreaking absolute havoc, but certainly holding their own.

Lionel | Death marches on Chartsend’s doorstep, daunted by sabotage before arrival and thinned by ambush upon emerging but utterly undeterred. Whatever foul fate awaits these demons in retreat must be worse than dying on the field of battle. Frost Giants slam into orcs in kamikaze zigzags, crushing ribs with their impact, only for a handful of them to find themselves easy prey to the segment of drow spellcasters who have evaded Pilar’s sparks. Yet many giants survive. The drow are temporarily diminished in fighting number thanks to the combined efforts of the vampire’s swift thinking and Liliten’s good aim. All-the-while, Chartsend’s finest take their swords to the slaad, but the slaadi blubber proves too thick, and so the militiamen must in turn draw back and strike from behind instead. Bowling past the slaad is even more dangerous than facing them head-on; the frog men let loose their poisonous tongues, wrapping around a few brave troops and causing their flesh to wither and decay. But some do break through, as Kreekitaka’s brought so many slaadi to heel now, and the militiamen successfully bring down the rest. Hoarse cheers can be heard erupting from somewhere nearby as the Chartsenders prove the courage of this land. Back beyond the treeline, Raevyn scrambles in hopes of finding cover from her undead stalker. Sundance, a Catalian dwarf in the Tranquility’s crew, and Esche, Lionel’s elven friend, jump out from behind an old oak, Sundance with his sharpened steel axe and Esche with his staff to shoot a beam of holy containment magic. Perhaps they will successfully kill or otherwise stall Raevyn’s pursuer. Or perhaps they will fail. It remains to be seen.

Lionel | Death marches on, but it’s being funneled. Uma’s trend has channeled the wraith’s legion into a narrower space on the open field, which is now erupting in flame from every corner. The drow are the first to react; as they recover from their paralysis, they wave their palms together in a joint effort and great gushes of water appear out of the aether, slamming into the pillars of flame and dousing them wholesale. The battle has become a thing of dualistic elements, fire and water everywhere, and the funneled horde once again spreads out. It reaches Chartsend’s gate, and it pounds; so numerous are these vile creatures that the gate screeches in agony and is broken through in no time at all. Now all it will take is a single charge and everything will end in sorrow. Chartsend is about to fall.

Lionel | Death’s march is halted even as it crushes the wooden gate into pulp. Lionel has appeared, red streaks behind him burning orcs to ashes in his wake, and Krice is there, too, and the crew of the SS Tranquility and several of Chartsend’s most stubborn citizenry. “On me!” Lionel screams to anyone who will hear him, swinging Hellfire into a rapid cyclone as the emerald flames upon its steel spiral out to assail the enemy. It’s an act of desperation, but it’s holding them at bay. For how long? As the wraith ascends its horde, spinning and waving its robed arms, holding its scythe high above the scorched battlefield, a gross cackle can be heard from one end of the plains to the other. A terrible maelstrom of black spinning flames suddenly erupts from its fingertips, homing in on Lionel’s defensive location with murderous intent. It will surely rip him and the rest of the line-holding fighters to shreds if it isn’t killed quickly.

Pilar pushed through the horde, more at risk from friendly fire than from the enemies who can't see her. She heard the gate crumble before she saw it, and her stomach lurched. No, no no! She redoubled her effort to get to the head of the pack, pushing through orcs and slaadi and trolls and drow. She saw those black flames, aimed straight for Lionel, and forgot all about going non-lethal. She flickered into view as she concentrated all of her magic into a new spell. A spike of ice materialized by her side and she threw her hand out, directing it to fly for the wraith's head. She was so intent on protecting Lionel that she left herself open to attack. An orc swung his sword, aiming to sever her head from her neck, only to have his arm caught in a thick, scaled ebony tail. Yozenra thrust her trident at the orc, piercing his armor and abdomen.

Hudson | Uma and her fellow casters cannot maintain the barrier. The drow have noticed them, and now they're under attack. With focused fire from their counterparts, Uma and others scatter in retreat, their collective concentration breaking, and with it the barriers that had slowed the approach of Kahran's force. More alarmingly, however, a couple of the bad guys have penetrated into their ranks, and are literally cutting down the cloth-wearers. Uma, for her part, only casts blessings and defensive spells, and relies on playing a game of keep-away with one of the assailants. She is rescued by a short woman with a purple pixie cut whose neatly cast fireball incinerates her pursuer. "I'm fine," Uma exhales, hands shaking as she refocuses her efforts, alongside her rescuer's, in protecting those who remain among them and cleaning out the infestation. It doesn't take long, but it's been a distraction that has kept the casting squad from targeting the body of Kahran's army. And now they are at the gates. "Hold the gates!" shouts Uma, but it's too late, it splinters under the advance of Kahran's army. "Justice rains from above!" cries the woman with purple hair, leading a squadron of mages in hurling fireballs from the skies. Uma will later reflect that this was a ridiculous thing to shout in the heat of the moment. In the present it seems utterly normal, if not a desperate last ditch effort to prevent them from being overrun. "Raise a barrier! Hold them in place!" she shouts, having found the hands of the witches nearest to her. It only works if you can concentrate, though, and they're taking fire again from the drow, now nearly upon them.

Blut watched as the forces continued to advance watching the wraith get ever closer. It was the clearest thing on the battlefield for him being a entity of pure magic. Blut would tell Liliten to aim for the eyes to slow its advance. Then it's arms before finally telling her to aim for its heart. The elf drew here holy arrows laced with silver as they flew through the air but before she fired the last one towards the creatures heart Blut stopped her. "Wait let me try something." Blut asked as he reached to take the bow Liliten heasitated like who wouldn't he was blind but she remembered who he was and what he could do. Blut aimed the bow almost as if he could see clear as day. His mana now heavier and far more dense empowered the holy arrow in the bow before letting it rocket out of the bow. It shot forward in a heavy arc of light aimed straight for the creatures heart or atleast where Blut belived there would be a heart.

Nasada :: Raevyn seems stuck in time for a moment. Everything moves so slow, out of focus. Flame everywhere. Strange creaturs riding dinosaurs. Bloodshed and mayhem all around. How she longed for home at this very moment; To be in bed with a warm bowl of soup and her mother's embrace. As another arrow whips past her head, the young woman snaps back now into the present, her focus first upon the undead that had been on her heel. It was halted in its tracks thanks to Esche' divine intervention, and she watched as Sundance's axe sunk into the creature's back- Something that didn't really seem to phase the guy. It was when those solid white eyes locked upon her own, it's ghastly features shaped into a plea, that Raevyn pushed to her feet and cried out. "No! Stop!" He wasn't trying to kill her. In fact, the creature had just saved her from certain death. The least she could do was repay the favor- Well, a second death. "He's harmless!" Whilst waiting to see if the pair would heed her appeal, she turned then to watch on as the armies continued to clash, feeling hopelessly and utterly useless.

Kreekitaka glanced over at the creature which floated, ephemeral, above the chaos of battle. He had nothing in his arsenal which might damage a creature of magic like that--the only thing he might try to do is deflect those black flames. So when he twirled his jawblade and braced it for another attack, instead of firing out at the soldiers again, he aimed it upwards. With another cataclysmic CRUMPF sound, the weapon unleashed a nigh-invisible wave of force intended to blast the fire into nothingness, or at least knock it off-course. He spared the creature only that much attention before returning to the slaughter of the lesser foes beneath his feet, and the ceaseless torrent of verbal abuse which came with it. "I'm going TAH!oo make sure each an' every one of your moHHHTHers are ashameDAH! of you, righTAH! before I ferTAH!iyize her nexTAH! batch of eggs! I am invincibo! I am unbroken! An' I never TAH!ire, an' my one DAH!esire is your DAH!oom! Run! HiDAH! yourseves away in HHHTHe foresTAH! Io search you ouTAH! an' DAH!estroy every yasTAH! one of you!"

Khitti hadn’t even bothered to survey the entirety of the horde back in the Shadow Plane; only now did she take note of the massive wraith. It was like Death itself and yet, Khitti wasn’t afraid of it. She’d seen death, known it for a time, and overcame it--several times, in fact. “Brand, I know what we agreed on, but we need to go. Right now.” She was out of arrows, but her magic had returned enough that she could help them, “I need to get closer. -We- do. I’m not going without you, or Onyx.” Quickly fixing her bow to her back, she’d start to edge closer, keeping far enough away from what was left of the hellspawns and those black flames, not going much farther without the Captain and his first mate.

Khitti would try to circle around to the best possible spot without getting directly involved where Lionel and the others were gathering. The redhead watched the wraith briefly, eyes narrowed, her mind focused. Drawing on the energy from the portals that Kahran’s forces had marched through, it started to gather around Khitti, crackling and sparking like lightning. “Brand, I’m gonna do a thing. It might not work. But, just go crazy with the fire and everything, okay?” The black energy actually -was- lightning, and it gathered at her fingertips until she deemed it strong enough. Across the crowd of gathered fighters and enemies, a massive bolt of black electricity crackled across the sky, leaping forth from the necromancer and aimed at the wraith itself, shadows entwining itself with the shadow-lightning magic.

Brand went crazy with the fire and everything. Well, what other choice was left to him, really? He wasn’t going to let Khitti go on her own, and she seemed dead-set on doing exactly what he’d told her not to do earlier. Many times. But then, this was routine. He should have expected this. So, yes. Fire. Crazy. Etc. Things dying. Badass symphonic music. (It just so happened he had a song from Cenril’s theater stuck in his head, from their big show last weekend. Maybe they should bring a bard to further engagements with the enemy...)

Brand || Onyx… was out of arrows. And out of magic. This was rather unfortunate. Yes. Quite sad. They hung back and watched, unwilling to go into the fray just to try to punch things to death with their inconvenient three foot or so form.

PHASE 3: DAWN, PRIDE

Lionel | The wraith’s shadowy flames roar through the dead air, surging toward the defensive line. Pilar’s icy shard slams into its face, and although it barely seems fazed, its fingertips betray a momentary lapse in concentration -- the trajectory of its spell curves and flails in brief confusion, buying the line a few more seconds. No sooner do the flames resume their course than a volley of fire from Uma’s mages blasts many of the remaining orcs, trolls, drow all squarely in the chests, and the flames are given secondary pause while the wraith scowls in open irritation. Lionel carves through the ranks of the orc front guard, but he’s struck in the shoulder and spits blood. His stance is held on one knee, now, but Hellfire will not stop swinging. Nor will the wraith’s arcane magics cease, rocketing down toward Lionel, Pilar, Yozenra, and the rest of them at the ruins of the gate with increased tempo. The first two spears of black fire strike several of the Tranquility’s crew, and their death screams are as eerie as the sight of their corpses disintegrating into tar-like ichor. Far afield, Sundance blinks at Raevyn’s command, and Esche lofts an elven brow in mild dismay. They do as bid, and no sooner have they relented than they espy the terrible black fire raining down hard in the distance. The rain continues, unabated, until Blut’s and Liliten’s holy arrows all strike the wraith in clean, coordinated agony. Its festering body begins to pulse and glow, and its remaining magical projectiles swirl wayward again mere meters from the still-standing defenders. Again and again, Kahran’s dark agent has come close to total victory. Again and again, its corruption has been stymied. It hisses, and the hiss overtakes all other sounds. Kreekitaka’s force wave collides with the flames while they’re off-course, but that infernal hiss seems to shatter the jawblade’s attempted interception after only a few more seconds halted. A loud pop, followed by a bang, overwhelms even the hiss. The flames rage, larger and larger, as the wraith pours all its energy into seeing this through to its intended conclusion.

Lionel | The wraith was trained since its creation at the hands of the now-dead Dark Immortals, Khasad and Elazul themselves. It was forged in war, killing its weaker counterparts to earn its right to live. In conventional terms, it was supposed to be impossible to kill. Its flesh still harbored a mild sensitivity to light, and so holy magics could still cause it grief. The arrows launched by Triad assassins Blut and Liliten are proof paramount of this, but they’ve only done enough to catch it off-guard for a few stray heartbeats, and now its magic is stronger than ever. If there was one thing the wraith’s training never prepared it for, it was an all-out barrage from the very powers it commanded. For all its centuries spent slaughtering the innocent, it couldn’t have predicted the emergence of a spell rivaling its own evil. It couldn’t have predicted Khatja ‘Khitti’ Elysse von Schreier. She pulls from the wraith’s own portals, doing things with the magics of the Shadow Plane that the wraith could only dream of. Just as its shadow flame crosses those perilous last few meters, a massive wellspring of darkness-infused electricity roasts the startled wraith. It raises its weapon, lurching violently downward attempting to escape, but it’s too late. Khitti has spoken. It looks down to a kneeling Lionel, sword still a flurry, who smirks at it sinisterly. “Lithrydel sends its regards… dick.” The wraith screeches in protest, melting under the weight of all that lightning, dropping its scythe which takes the head off of a hapless troll. It dies, just as the purple sky blends into orange and the sun rises upon Chartsend. It dies, outplayed and insulted, and overhearing the incessant babbling of a certain uyeer king who has cut through the last of its horde, root and stem.

Lionel | Clouds of smoke cover the plains. The moans and groans of the wounded and dying cover them, too. Survivors of the ragtag alliance search through the corpses of their enemies in hopes of saving friends. A bell tolls somewhere beyond the gate, solemn but steadfast, informing the townsfolk that they have been rescued, one and all. Lionel stands up, dusts himself off, and looks upon the faces of the alliance. Maybe we stand a chance, after all.

Pilar | As the wraith and the horde died, Pilar walked into Yozenra's waiting arms. Victory. Her heart ached for the dead; the crew of the Tranquility, the uyeer, the Chartsend militia and the mages, she would mourn them all. But, selfishly, she took some comfort from the fact that those she loved had survived. Yozenra, Khitti, Lionel... Lionel! Pilar pulled away from Yozenra and went to the commander's side, the naga close behind. “Lionel, you're hurt,” she said, staring at the blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth. “Come on, let's get you looked at.” The Chartsend clinic would be busy, today.

Khitti was definitely going to get yelled at when they got back to the ship. Khitti knew it. The crew of the Tranquility knew it. The gods that restored Khitti’s humanity and gave her a second chance knew it. Francis, that enormous arachnid from the Shadow Plane, seemed to know it too. After helping on the front lines with the others and his children, what remained of the cat-sized spiders returned with their father to Khitti’s side and Francis himself sat between the redhead and Brand, staring up at the Catalian with those big, numerous spiderdoggo eyes, pleading with the human to not yell at his mother. It’s not like she’d gone -that- far. She didn’t get hurt. She listened… sort of. He even whined a little for added effect. On Khitti’s end though, she actually felt guilty and a bit stupid for taking that chance, and even apologized to Brand. He’d understand… maybe… right?

Hudson | And suddenly the battle is over. Uma had come here with a small militia of Cenril witches, and after checking herself for injuries she now takes stock of her people and participates in tending the wounded.

Kreekitaka whirled about even after the battle was through, his carcharodontosaurus covered in blood not its own, and both of them still high on battle-fury. It took a supreme effort to bring himself down from that place--the world had narrowed, yet become vastly clearer; there was no thought, only action. It had been a glorious battle, the likes of which he hadn't experienced in far too long. Even his troops--what remained of them, it seemed one of their number had taken a brutal warhammering--seemed heartened by the chance to get into proper battle again. There was cleaning up to do, certainly, but first: celebration. A light tap of his claw to that same spot as before, with Kree making a subtle gesture to the creature to direct its shout all around, and once again the entire countryside would know precisely which side of this battle was victorious.

Blut sat down on the tree exhausted from that final assault. Satisfied that his forsight came true but he wasn't sure that these people could deal with these forces. He draped his arm over his companion with the camoflauge from the battle he and his companion left. Not one word was spoken the pair just left to discuss their next move.

Nasada :: Raevyn was still in a bit of shock. never before had she seen such a creature as the wraith, yet she could feel its power right in her very core. Then the display of power the came from the woman known a Khitti- she too felt that surge. it almost... called to her. When it looked like things were clear, Raevyn looked toward the pair that had come to her aide and offered a heartfelt thanks. The undead creature was regarded next, a single nod issued in a form of silent appreciation before she would turn toward the plains that had just been a hellish battlefield. Something upon it seemed to catch her gaze, and slowly she walked out from the safety of the wooded area and over to where the wraith had been defeated. She looked down upon the fallen weapon that had been dropped by the now banished hellspawn, staring quietly at the item with some sort of admiration. She knelt then and lifed the sycthe with both hands, gaze now turning toward those remaining warriors and magii to see if what she were doing were objectionable.

Brand || The important thing was that Khitti wasn’t hurt. But Brand would return to the ship to find that a few of the crew had not been so lucky, that Lennier was already standing over them saying last rites and preparing them for a burial at sea. It’s a hard truth that, no matter how successful the day was, no matter what unlikely odds they’ve beaten, death still claimed many. These two, a dwarf and an elf, had their lives cut short prematurely by Kahran’s forces, despite their distance. Despite Brand trying to keep them out of harm’s way. So, too, did many of Francis’ children. And the spider didn’t seem to mind, didn’t seem to be any less loyal to its mother for losing some of his spawn in the fight, but… one day it might be Francis himself. Or Khitti. Or Brand. They got lucky, that was all.

Lionel laughs. It’s brief, but it’s the richest and fullest laugh he’s had since who knows how long. The laughter fades at the sight of those they’ve lost -- too many, as always. Too many. But nothing will ever take away that laugh; the euphoric feeling has risen up in him that their enemies can be defeated, that he didn’t completely fail to rally the realm before their inevitable return after all. The euphoria remains as Raevyn takes the dead wraith’s scythe; neither Lionel nor any of his peers will stop her. The euphoria remains as Esche and Sundance descend upon the smoky plains with haste to assist with the injured. It remains as Pilar’s voice, seemingly so far away from him despite her proximity, pleads with him to come with her for treatment. The blood drips from Lionel’s shoulder, and the solemn vow to avenge the fallen, that same vow he has known all his life, almost overwhelms the euphoria. But it doesn’t. It can’t. He’s too proud of their achievement today, too proud of his friends, family, home. Even if Kahran can truly never be stopped, even if Lithrydel is burned from Chartsend to Rynvale, Frostmaw to the Nameless Desert, the bastard cannot steal this moment from them.

Nasada :: Raevyn slings the newly aquired weapon over her shoulder, almost tipping over as she does so; It was actually a bit heavier than she anticipated! Still, the thing was beautiful and she would somehow make it work. Pallid blues survey the survivors as they roam to tend to the fallen and the injured, and then those that feel relief and accomplishment as they converse in better spirits, and finally on the man that she first heard speak upon this plain. There was a feeling deep inside that this would not be the last time she would cross paths with any of these folks. Slowly, the young necromancer begins to head out toward Chartsend, her new goal to figure out where in the hell she had wound up, and how she would actually get back home.