RP:Weekend War Battles

Summary: When the promised undead fail to materialize on time to attack Kelay Tavern, despite the arrival of not one, but TWO large groups of defenders, the fighters decide to have some fun of their own.

Let the games begin!

Magik || Numerous black hooded figures of all shapes and sizes line the road, their faces hidden by a thick darkess. On the rooftop of the tavern and shop to the south hide a few more for a surprise attack if need be. A thick black cloud of smoke fills the road as well, hovering at about knee level. The group of mysterious figures, The Unseen Hand, remain still and quiet as they await the arrival of Xzean. Magikrios has yet to show his face.

Karasu guards the entryway to the shop on the south side of the worn cobbled stone. A runic jaguar pelt covers her shoulders, it's spell active to keep her invisible to most eyes. She murmurs into the black crystal that hangs from her ear, "Do you think he wrote down the wrong date or something?"

Iintahquohae isn't much of a fighter, but she emerges from the tavern holding a chair by its legs. She's nudging another one out with her foot as backup in the likelihood that the first one will break. Maybe she can bash a zombie's brains in with these?

Ihrakah ||A shrill rasping noise echoes from shopfront to shopfront, punctuated by the heavy metallic crunches of immensely heavy footfalls. Through the late-evening gloom, a colossal shadow emerges, imposing in its mass, while two stark blue searchlights pierce the darkness. With each crashing pace, the monstrous silhouette resolves itself in clarity, as the armoured hulk of the Warriors Guild stalks down the mainstreet of Kelay, his steel-plated form striking a brutal figure as he stomps towards the tavern. Chain ringing with every step, the anchor he holds propped on his shoulder presents a curious contrast, wreathed in wildflowers of varied colour and type, so delicate in comparison to the weathered and tarnished leviathan. As the rust-pocked edifice reaches the entrance to the tavern, he slows, planting himself with a titanic finality, a veritable colossus, searing the path with his balefire stare. A moment passes, then two, the the giant stirs, turning to look around him. Was… was there not supposed to be an army attacking the tavern tonight? Lionel must have been hitting the bottle too hard and dreamt it up. Ihrakah growls, a low bassy grumble. It took a day and a half to get here from Venturil, by Aramoth’s blasted unmentionables!

Quintessa wasn't here (visibly anyway), but she was watching the area carefully from the trees. She wasn't here to fight or aid the undead; Quintessa has other designs on a certain Druid's Tree, but would she ever get a chance to strike tonight? That was still uncertain.

Kreekitaka || For a moment, it seemed as if there might be no conflict here. And then the telltale rumbling of approaching numbers could be heard. Many, many legs, scrabbling against the soil. This is likely how one might expect to hear skeletons approaching. What one -doesn’t- usually expect from a skeletal horde is war-drums, but the thunderous rhythm of deep basins being struck accompanied the sounds of the marching army. Here they came, up the street from Cenril, marching into view--giant sea scorpions, nine of them, each thirty feet long or more, with trident stingers and forward limbs that ended not in claws, but huge spikes the size of swords. And riding atop each of them was a pair of uyeer warriors--large crab people, armed to the teeth with their war-clubs and spear-throwers and lances. And in the front, on the largest scorpion, was Kreekitaka himself, resplendent in his shiniest, most ornate battle-kilt, his standard waving proudly above his head--a flag bearing the symbol of one uyeer punching another so hard his head explodes--and his jewel-encrusted jawblade swinging idly in his claws, tapping his wrist lightly to the beat of the drums. This, clearly, was not an army of zombies. Or skeletons. But it seemed like the crab had brought his small cavalry force with the intention of saving the day, instead--and what he saw before him was decidedly not an army of undead. Just a bit of black fog on the ground--and Ihrakah! A welcome companion to have tonight, to be sure. He offered a little wave with his free claw. “ATAH!ention, necromancer!” he shouted, not quite sure where to look, but certain there was a foe here -somewhere-. “WhaTAH! you see before you is HHHTHe force which conquereDAH! HHHTHe razuraHHHTH. I have never once joineDAH! a baTAH!oh which I was noTAH! vicTAH!orious in, an’ I have faceDAH! far worse HHHTHreaTAH!s HHHTHan you! I give you HHHTHis one chance TAH!oo reveoh yourself an’ surrenDAH!er peacefuyee. OHHHTHerwise, your nighTAH! enDAH!s wiHHHTH you in various byooDAH!ee pieces strewn across HHHTHe way for HHHTHe birDAH!s TAH!oo peck.”

Magik || The Unseen Hand turns their attention to the approaching army of uyeer. Blades, warhammers, swords, bows(from the ground forces), and any other weapon imaginable is drawn as Kree speaks. Even a little hobbit comes bursting through the tavern door, late as usual, with a broken beer bottle. The hobbit puts a ring on and disappears into the crowd. (Lulz). The assassins take their defensive positions as they face the incoming army. As Kree announces himself and his intentions, the black smoke seems to vibrate violently before it starts swirling about. The smoke takes off suddenly into the sky, leaving a quick and small explosion of smoldering ash in its wake. The trail of smoke does a quick lap around Kree's militia before settling infront of the uyeer. Magik's form is revealed as the smoke quickly disappears. The Lyastri is in his full black getup, face hidden by an assassin style mask. He holds his bow, Death Stimulant, tightly but relaxed infront of him. Black flames lick off of the bow towards the giant super crab. Those who recognized his fiery black eyes would be quick to identify the elf. After looking Kree up and down, he speaks in a calm tone, "I see we have a common enemy. No sign of the necromancer yet." Magik holds up a fist to signal to the Unseen in the area to relax for the moment.

Ihrakah watches as the blackened smoke stirs, and he lifts his anchor down from his pauldron, bringing it down to crash into his palm with a hefty crash. The party had arrived, it seems. Readying himself for the tide of undead that were sure to come, Ihrakah is decidedly perplexed when instead of a slavering zombie, Kreekitaka emerges from the darkness, flanked by his scorpion riders, chittering splendidly in their battle regalia. Ihrakah raises his anchor in salute, spitting spume as he growls back at the uyeer. “ITAH! seems HHHTHaTah! HHHTHe necromancer has soiyohDAH! his panTAH!yoons and scarpereDAH!”. Ihrakah’s chest spasms with what one can only presume is laughter, as mist steams through his faceplate. When the smoke seems to curdle in response, the hulk's eyes seem to flash dangerously, til Magik emerges from the fog. "And our ahyies grow more pyenTAH!ifuh, iTAH! seems." Ihrakah adds, returning his anchor to his shoulder with a resounding crunch.

Iintahquohae , being a Cenril native, heard of the Leviathan as a child. She was led to believe the myth was simply a bunch of bedtime stories to spook children into keeping out of trouble, and yet...there it is. One of her childhood nightmares. Just lumbering down the road. Every step it takes would have made her heart drop if it were still beating, but the wash of fear that hits her in its steads not great. She drops the chair when Ihrakah growls. “T-that thing is absolutely -not- supposed to be out of the sea,” she whispers, though it's likely loud enough for someone nearby to hear. “Is -this- the zomb-” her mouth closes at the arrival of Kreekitaka and his uyeer crew, having only caught a glimpse of various seaborne once in the past. Her hands reach for the chair again while she squints, deciphering what the creature was saying. So they aren't with the zombies either. Right. ...well. Now this all seems a bit silly. Or it's a trap.

Karasu keeps her back pressed to the shop as thundering steps approach from what she believes to be enemies. At the sight of the armored giant, Sagaribana is silently drawn, and a hand is held out towards the tavern. In pale chalk, just barely visible to eyes that do not seek them out directly, a series of arcane inscriptions have been inscribed on the ground encircling the old structure, aimed to raise a barrier at the sight of the necromancer. She is likely one of few who have never met the paladin, and so she assumes him to be a guard for the infamous necromancer. That is why she begins to panic when no words to strike are uttered through her earring. Where was Magik? Where was Quintessa?! This thing that stinks of Rynvalian coves at low tide was clearly dangerous! Then comes the encroaching rumbling of a horde, and Karasu whispers the incantation. A low blue light emenates from the chalk beneath Iintahquohae's feet creating an arcane barrier to disarm anything fueled by dark magic. Her mentor appears to Kreekitaka, and she lowers her weapon at his signal. Despite her relaxed position, she continues to eye the undead creature warily from the comfort of her invisibility. How odd, why did those flowers look familiar?

Quintessa lights a clove cigarette from the safety of her treetop perch. She can't understand a single thing that the uyeer or undead giant are saying, but one thing was clear; There would be no undead army to observe tonight and definitely no research done on the Holy Tree. Maybe she'd still get some entertainment tonight? Quintessa had never seen a giant crab-battle before.

Kreekitaka's troops all trained their spear-throwers at the whirling smoke, but held their fire--such an incorporeal target wouldn't have been a good hit--and then continued to wait for the order to launch. Kree fortunately had the presence of mind to wait and hear the man out, but he didn't seem pleased at the news. He flared his facial crushers in annoyance at this latest discovery and slapped his jawblade into its holster in disgust. No undead horde?! "Whioh I am... happy... HHHTHere is no DAH!anger," he grumbled, stepping down off of Vindicator's head to stand upon the ground, extending a claw to shake with the smoke-man, "I've jus' broughTAH! my fines' warriors ao HHHTHe way ouTAH! here in search of a fighTAH!, an' now I yearn our enemy has," he glanced in Ihrakah's direction and decided to borrow the word, "'scarpereDAH!'." He looked around, taking in the various figures standing all along the sides of the road--though he couldn't see them -well-, the general atmosphere of the street seemed like it was prepared for an ambush. That gave him an idea. "I'm worrieDAH!," he said, carefully, trying to turn his voice down a bit, "HHHTHaTAH! my forces may become... rowDAH!ee... if we simpyee decyare vicTAH!ory wiHHHTHouTAH! a confyicTAH!." The crab was clearly trying to frame whatever he was about to say as for his soldier's benefit, but anyone -remotely- familiar with the crab would be able to see the wheels turning in his own head. "Suppose we... put our warriors TAH!oo a TAH!esTAH!.?"

Magik continues studying Kree, his warriors, and the scorpions. He just may have to steal this idea for himself. A horse would be too cliche. Giant scorpions is obviously taken. No one is riding around ontop of the uyeer. Something to ponder..As Kree offers his claw, the Lyastri smirks and accepts the gesture but is careful to not get a hand taken incase Kree decides to pinch, "My friends have been a little bored lately..let's just make sure everyone here makes it out alive, yeah? I appreciate your unexpected arrival and partnership for this occasion.." The elf faces his allies behind him and shouts, "Ready up!" The whole contingency readies themselves. Magikrios turns back to Kreekitaka, "Good luck." With that, Magik takes his smoke form and reappears next to Karasu.

Ihrakah chuckles. Kree was being delicate, to put it lightly; an uyeer's rowdiness would be considered tantamount to a rage-induced rampage in other cultures. The titan turns his cold gaze into the Lyastri and in an alarmingly human expression from the inhuman creature, he winks slyly. "Best give them the beating they ask for, for the sake of the town, it'd be simpler." Ihrakah's voice resonates from deep within the barnacle-crusted steel, though his common is surprisingly understandable, with a mild Frostmawian inflection. The giant straightens and faces the uyeer leader, staring at the jewel encrusted jawblade eagerly. "I wiyoh chayenge Kreekitaka, HHHTHis fighTAH! has been yong overDAH!ue." Ihrakah glances behind him to his beautified anchor, wreathed in flowers and he pauses to add a clause. "HHHTHough. I suggesTAH! an unarmeDAH! bouTAH!. I do noTAH! wish to spoiyoh KAH!nna's gifTAH!"

Karasu steps out silently to walk between the uyeers. Content that these creatures do not see through her the way the drow could, she moves to swing her sword to wrap around one of the claws of the scorpion-riders and pull them to the ground. Ihrakah's proclamation makes the gears in her head turn and her sword whips out into empty air with a resounding crack that seems to serve as a signal to all the fighters to begin the brawl. The half-feline stumbles to catch the sword-whip before it clatters against the ground. Surely, the bard wouldn't befriend someone she had no interest in eating unless... "You're an -ally-?!" She breaks her invisibility cloak's spell to speak her disbelief. She makes a motion, and the protective spell around the Kelay Tavern falls, the blue light dimming as the oil-lamp posts of the streets spring with white light in the dying sunlight.

Quintessa might not have been interested in joining the fray, she could rarely fight in a way that was nonlethal as it was, but that did not mean she wasn't watching carefully. Her black cigarette is pressed tightly between her lips as the changeling takes out her notebook and begins to sketch those gathered here in charcoal. The uyeer army, Inks wielding a chair, the Last Lyastri Magikrios, the strange suit of armor known as Ihrakah, and the target of her amorous affections, Karasu Swiftclaw. Quintessa is in a trance-like state as the scene before her is put onto paper, taking up multiple pages in what was meant to be a research journal. Perhaps this would prove a useful experiment after all.

Iintahquohae is perplexed when light emanates around her feet, and takes a hesitant step back. Thinking it may be the work of a necromancer that was supposed to be attacking by now with a horde of zombies, she is puzzled by the lack of evil she felt. Setting the chair in her hands on the ground so it is upright, the seamstress kneels down and presses her fingers to the chalk she hadn't noticed before. The spell is sensed, though its maker is a mystery to her. It appears to be placed with good intention, and that's good enough for her. Standing upright again, she reaches for one of the chairs she dragged out with her. She doesn't catch the entirety of the exchange between Kree and Magik, as Inks mostly fixated on the hulking anchor-toting giant nearby now. What side is she supposed to play on? Kree's or childhood nightmare? Or does she just kick back on the chair she brought out and watch?

Kreekitaka looked to Ihrakah with clenched facial crushers and pounded one claw into the other. "InDAH!eeDAH! iTAH! has! I yook forwarDAH! TAH!oo HHHTHis... hm. UnarmeDAH!, you say." He reached down and started to unbuckle his jawblade's holster when a commotion broke out in the back of his ranks. Someone had been knocked over by an invisible foe, and that set the lot of them up in arms! Claws flashed, weapons rattled, but there wasn't a -target- until Karasu appeared. She only just had time to shout her incredulity when an uyeer snapped a command to his war scorpion and a trident stinger plunged towards her. And with that, just like she might have predicted, the fight was on! Kree only just had time to snap his whip-tails in such a way to insist on nonlethal combat--the military command Ihrakah would recognize translates roughly to "no corpses, only prisoners"--before the cavalry surged forward, spears hurling forth against the scattered assassins. Kreekitaka grumbled something about having missed the chance to yell "charge" as he finished unbuckling his belt, tossing the weapon back to his copilot aboard Vindicator. "AorighTAH!. Your fisTAH!s, my cyaws." Rather than wait for the giant suit of armor to make the first move, Kree decided to charge forward himself with a back-and-forth sideways motion to try and obscure his exact angle of attack, claws raised to protect his face. When he did strike, it was with an old one-two: a quick left, a jab to engage the defenses, followed by a hard right to the gut.

Ihrakah snarls happily. It has been a long time since he faced an Uyeer, and then only in the uyeer's domain, ten thousand leagues down, under the crushing pressure of the ocean trench. This time, Ihrakah has the home-field advantage. Hoisting his anchor from his shoulder, the giant moves to the side of the path, gingerly placing his anchor to rest against one of the trees that lines the verge, being careful not to crush the blooms. As the cacophony erupts behind him, the giant turns to face the uyeer bearing down upon him, weaving serpentine, chitin pincers rattling off the cobblestones. Ihrakah straightens and bashes his gauntleted fist off his breastplate rapidly, eliciting a crude facsimile of an uyeer's paddle-rattle, roughly translating as "The deep will crush their spirits!". Ihrakah drops low to the ground, spreading his weight to all-fours, then charges forward, aiming to tackle the uyeer around his abdomen and make use of the poor grip that pincers provided to drive him back. The heavy blows of Kreekitaka's blows are presented with the oblique plane of the giant's back, where they can rain down heavily, but aren't presented with enough purchase to beat the goliath back

Magik watched the scene unfold quickly. He was proud of his Whisper, Karasu making the first attack. He was sure she could hold her own out there. The Lyastri smirks up at Ihrakah and nods. "Non-lethals!" the elf simply commanded before walking to the middle of the road. He brings his bow up and aims just passed Kree at a soldier just behind him. He pulls back the string and dry fires. An arrow forms just next to Kree's head in the shape of an arrow but with an extremely flat piece of hard wood for a tip. It's mainly used as a distraction. Immediately after, Magik takes his smoke form to follow the arrow. The arrow impacts the warrior but what follows is a suddenly appearing elf. Magik's eyes blaze darkly as he smirks and 'nearly' takes the head off of a uyeer warrior as he turns his bow into a melee weapon. Magik jams the bow under the uyeer's 'chin' as he follows through with a heavy tackle to dismount the crabman. The two go tumbling onto the road with both of them popping up immediately. Magik swings his bow methodically to strike the crustacean but also takes some equal shots. The two rumble on while the Unseen Hand charges the remaining uyeer warriors.

Iintahquohae perks up a bit at hearing the 'non-lethals'. Perhaps this could be practice for her venture down to Drow Town in case someone decides to mug her, or worse. Likely worse. It is Trist'oth, after all. Deciding that perhaps swinging an entire chair around isn't the wisest move, she breaks a leg off one of the chairs in order to brandish it more like a club, then walks into the fray. Might as well face her childhood boogeyman. With none of the confidence the seamstress typically carries herself with, she strides over to Ihrakah, nose scrunched up so she isn't getting a noseful of his stench, then gives the side of his...thigh, she guesses, a little tap with the end of her chair leg. ...Combat clearly isn't her thing. Yet.

Kreekitaka was not expecting to suddenly be grabbed around the waist, though in retrospect he should have been--in his experience, folks who went fist-to-claw with him tried to stay -out- of his grip instead of coming in close. This meant that the great weight of Ihrakah indeed shoved him backward--but that was a game Kree could adapt to. One arm went to wrap around the man's neck, the other snapped open to press against the side of his head--and then Kree pushed off with his right side while letting his left go slack. The result, he hoped, would be just enough of a twist to land beside the giant instead of under him, and on impact his claw would come down to press on armored head with the full weight of his body behind it. In essense, the uyeer version of an RKO. From out of nowhere! || The "throat" of an uyeer is home to some rather more sensitive plates, and Magik's initial tackle may have slowed the warrior down more than he let on. His second immediately moved to take the command position on the war scorpion, and the cavalry charge pushed onward. Assassins leaped out from the shadows, and some of the uyeer would be halted--but it was just as likely that some would have the flat part of a tail-trident smacked against their chest, or claws lashed out to grab onto clothing.

Karasu steps back when the stinger aims directly at her, ducking with practiced movements of a soldier accustomed to things being thrown her way as she sheaths her sword. Non-lethal it is! The spellblade ducks another sting, and wraps her arm around it. "Gravitas." She utters. When the mount tries to lift her with its massive tail, it finds the stinger stuck in place by the added weight of the gravity spell. Karasu hoists the stinger in front of her as a makeshift meatshield, which serves nicely to parry the weighted claw of the uyeer warriors. The members of Magik's flock who were adept with arcane magic take note of the use of nonlethal magic as well. Pits are created in the cobbled earth in some places, just shallow and narrow enough to entrap the mounts and force the crab warriors to fight without their steeds. The moment the spell wears off of her, the uyeer descend on her again and grip her by the jaguar pelt, whipping her off the ground with a catlike screech.

Quintessa resists the urge to intervene as she sketches a war scorpion unfurling a trident stinger in Karasu's direction, but her feline quickness allows her to deftly dodge the attack narrowly before countering with a spell. The ashes from the hex blade's cigarette go unmonitored, simply falling from the cylinder when they grew too heavy as her piece of charcoal explores the entire surface of her paper. The changeling is much too focused to worry about them burning her an accident. Quintessa gazes out at what she assumes is the Uyeer commander, and she allows her charcoal pencil to outline him clicking out orders to the best of her ability. Ihrakah wrestled a giant crab on the next page, the giant's massive, armored hands gripping onto the even more massive claws, driving him back into the charging forces. Magik stood upon another, taking shots with his bow as smoke billowed around him. Quintessa even draws a cute little picture of Iintahquohae hitting Ihrakah in the back with a wooden chair in a style that would be called 'chibi' in a different universe. Icy blue and warm hazel eyes flicker back and forth between her drawing and the clash with detachment, her black lashes fluttering whenever she changes focus to a different scene on the mock battlefield. This vantage point would be perfect for a commanding officer in a real battle, maybe Quintessa should figure out a way to communicate the enemy position to her fellow SoS members? That would surely give them the advantage.

Ihrakah sailed gloriously through the air, his head clamped under Kree's armpit. Two tonnes of flesh, steel, seaweed and stink bore downwards, guided by Kree's claws and his own momentum. With a sickening crunch, the giant collided headfirst with the cobblestones, with enough of an visceral impact to make even the most gutsy spectator squeamish. For a moment, it seemed like in the heat of the moment, Kree had gone back on his own order of non-lethal attacks, before a deep bassy rumbling echoed around the street. From under the uyeer's forearm, a blaze of blue balefire gleams outwards, and as the giant chuckls ominously, he kicks off the ground with both feet. For the briefest of moments Kree would be presented with the glorious visage of a sea-worn steel assplate, festooned with a multitude of barnacles and seaweed, before the giant's legs swing down to follow, aiming to grapple the uyeer's head in a chokehold. With a side of giant-crotch. Stinky.

Magik gets tossed to the side eventually by the warrior. He dusts himself off as he gets to his feet, eyeing the uyeer warrior up before an Unseen Hand member takes over. It was that little hobbit from earlier. Only Sven knows where he appeared from. The hobbit somehow manages to tie up the uyeer warrior's legs and tumble him over. Only temporarily though. The hobbit starts celebrating infront of Magik but the elf is quickly to point to the quickly standing crabdude. The hobbit turns around, screams, and the uyeer gives chase. Magik laughs quietly before scanning the rumble pit. He catches glimpse of Ihrakah duking it out with Kree then to Karasu being hoisted into the air. As Magik quickly makes his way towards Karasu, the Unseen pushes up against the uyeer warriors. The unnamed SoS members give it 'almost' their all as they give the seadwellers a real run for their money. They wanted to battle, the Unseen were here to battle. Bloodied and bruised, the assassins are relentless. The injured are pulled off of the road and into any shops for some quick repairs. The Unseen on the rooftops make for a quick surprise aerial attack onto the uyeer below. Magikrios quickly closes the distance while dodging some rogue attacks from all parties involved. Arrows fly by, spells, claws, a...pillow? The f..Anyhow. Magik times a dive towards Karasu to snatch her out of the grip of the warrior. Should it succeed, Magik will quickly recover into a kneeling position after tumbling with his Whisper. He holds his right hand out to the uyeer, sending a heated shockwave to the giant crabs to knock them backwards.

Iintahquohae ;; It's safe to say her tap to the Leviathan's thigh did nothing. She staggers back afterward to dodge the monster and a wall of sea stench that makes her stomach do an unpleasant flip. Maybe...maybe start smaller here, Inks. She decides to go for one of the scorpions. In her Eyrie days, she had hopped off of one flying beast onto another in a fight with ease, flinging shoddy explosives, so maybe this might work. Minus the explosives. She had fire to work with now. And a chair leg! Also, it's a much shorter fall than falling from the sky, at the very least. She runs for the nearest scorpion and takes a leap, landing decidedly unbalanced and awkwardly -between- the uyeer riders upon its back, and starts swinging. Playful swinging. Just a few taps. Bap bap.

Kreekitaka was even less prepared for the flexibility in his opponent, and had to fold his paddles flat against his sides to avoid having something get broken with the sudden squeezing of the man's legs. While his oxygen supply was in his gills which ran down his back, his ability to speak still relied on air being pumped up to his mouth, and so he found himself unable to make a sound suddenly. The armor would have been too tough to use his facial crushers on... Kree was forced to shift his grip, locking his claws onto Ihrakah's thighs and let his head go free, and then slowly attempted to shove himself back up to his feet, straining audibly under the giant's weight--and then, with another exertion, started to spin in place, paddles and torso flexing against the man's fingers to try and loosen their grip. Should he manage to build up any sort of respectable speed, he'd start to drift towards the main battle--hoping to use the whirling giant as a weapon against any assassins that happened to be unlucky enough to wander into the path of the fight. Speaking of which, the uyeer who'd been dismounted would toss aside their various lances and spear-throwers and start to follow Kree's example, going for the claw and grapple when possible. Some had been struck with sufficient blunt force to knock them dazed to the ground; these were simply ignored as opposed to dragged out of the way like the Unseen Hand were doing with their "fallen". The scorpions were well-trained; de-ridered beasts knew to stay still and out of the way. The particular scorpion that had been invaded by Iintahquohae was, fortunately, manned by soldiers of particularly good humor. The first couple of taps were reacted to as though she'd swung a large hammer, and the warrior recoiled and braced himself against her onslaught. The second put up his claws to defend, and retaliated with equally playful punches--though an uyeer's idea of a playful punch -might- be a little more forceful than strictly necessary.

Karasu flails her legs out to try to kick whatever comes close enough as she is flung around by the crab warrior. She would sooner throw up from the dizziness than risk losing her cloak! A few spells are yelled in an effort to free herself from its grip, including a failed invocation of her gravity spell, but its only thanks to her Shadow in shining armor that she's rescued form the uyeer's grip. The two tumble to the ground, and Karasu grips his shoulders as she sits up, the world still spinning beneath her. "I'm gonna be sick." As an uyeer descends, she shouts, "Ventus!" A fierce gust of wind sweeps the battlefield, knocking some of the uyeers, along with a few Unseen members, down Kelay Way.

Ihrakah tightens his legs, attempting to lever his chokehold and cut off the uyeer's airflow. Smothering his paddle-gille would have been more affective, but after 20 years of trial and error, Ihrakah knew that the paddle gills were a pain in the backside to block up effectively. Damned Darwinist evolution doing it's job properly. As Kree hoists the pair of them up and begins spinning rapidly, Ihrakah finds himself sailing through the air, held only by the grip of his thighs on the crabtaur's neck. It is a surprisingly graceful experience at first, before Ihrakah's pauldroned shoulder crashes into a hapless uyeer soldier that got in the way. Then another, and another, and before long, Ihrakah finds his graceful flight has become more of an airborne bludgeoning. Several seconds pass and the giant decides that he has had quite enough of this. So he lets go. Centrifugal force converts to lateral momentum and Ihrakah flies into the treeline, his passing marked by the crashes and crunches of various branches breaking, as the Paladin of Aramoth disappears into the forest.

Iintahquohae has managed to keep her balance enough to trade a few blows with the uyeer, but one particularly playful punch caught her off guard. Once again deciding to put her sky acrobatics closer to earth, she shifts her weight to one leg and deftly springboards off of the scorpion, onto the shoulders of one of the uyeer riders on one of the scorpions nearby. Her landing isn't as graceful as she would like it to be. An unexpected gust of wind knocks her forward upon the creature's sturdy shoulders, and her upper half flops over the poor guy's head. Thinking this is more like a children's game of tag, she takes her chair leg and gives him a tiny jab in his side, “Bap,” then tries to get off of his head in as graceful a way as possible.

Magik pats Karasu on the head, "Go ahead." As he stands once more the battle starts to slow down as warriors from both sides are thrown to the sides of the road from Karasu's attack. "Nice," the elf compliments his guildmate. The Unseen Hand look defeated as they get back to their feet and look to their leader for further direction. Should Magik decide it, they would jump back in it. Magik stands tall but is caught off guard by the hobbit still being chased by the uyeer warrior. He shakes his head then peaks over his shoulder to see what Kree's next move in. Magik holds a simple fist in the air, ready to make a quick decision on whether to wrap it up or not.

Kreekitaka staggered sideways and fell over as Ihrakah's weight suddenly disappeared. Grunting and pushing himself slowly back to his feet, he surveyed the situation. Uyeer were knocked over, scorpions were unmanned, but it looked like his troops had done a fair amount of damage to the opposing side as well. Gazing into the hole in the forest where he'd accidentally sent Ihrakah flying, he couldn't help but wonder if the giant would be back. He raised a claw and made the "halt!" gesture with his tails, and those of his troops that were still mostly mobile slowed to a stop. The king turned towards the assassins' leader and clenched his facial crushers, offering a polite and grateful bow. "HHHTHis was a mos' DAH!eyighTAH!foh exercise, an' I mus' HHHTHank you for such a gooDAH! evening for my troops." The one that had Iintahquohae land on his head, and who had tried to grab onto her ankles to prevent her from simply escaping that easily, let go, and the rest started to pick up their fallen weapons and tend to their mounts.

Ihrakah, looking somewhat dented, emerges from the gloom of the treeline, as he goes to retrieve his anchor. A brief wave that speaks depths of comraderie is aimed at Kree, before the giant turns and begins the slow trudge back to Venturil, never fond of formal goodbyes. He vanishes into the night, leaving only the passing stench of brine and a quietly echoing squeak in the darkness.

Magik's fist turns into a pointed finger waving a circle in the air..aka the wrap it up signal. The Shadow helps up a fallen uyeer then a fallen Unseen. After a quick dusting off of the Unseen's shoulders, he walks towards Kree with an extended hand, "It was a pleasure sharing the battlefield with you. You have some mighty warriors." Magik would absolutely give Kree a firm handshake to his..claw..clawshake?..should he allow it. Would Kree even feel the firmness of a handshake? Iintahquohae is sitting in the ground, rubbing her ankles with the chair leg beside her. That was fun. Maybe she should visit Kelay more often. Weekend War Battles is a good way to start a fun evening.

Quintessa got some good sketches of this mock battle, so she feel content to return her notebook to her satchel and grab another cigarette. Who was going to call her on her smoking habit all the way up here? With a snap of her fingers, the hex blade lights her clove cigarette as she relaxes in the branches.

Kreekitaka waved back at Ihrakah, nodding--they'd see each other again, he was certain. The firmness of a handshake for Kree was felt more in the up-and-down motion of the arm than in the grip of the fingers. "As DAH!oo you! If we finDAH! oursevves on HHHTHe same siDAH!e of a baTAH!oh again, Io have TAH!oo geTAH! in TAH!ouch so we can DAH!iscuss how besTAH! TAH!oo DAH!istribuTAH! our forces. I see yours as being greaTAH! fyankers, whioh I make HHHTHe main push..." Something about the crab's gaze might have gone a bit wistful, there, as he visualized the glorious battle the two of them could command.

Magik nods in agreement to Kree, "Let's hope for such a situation, yeah?" The elf then turns back to his soldiers as they gather themselves, their weapons, and each other all while helping out the uyeer in any way they see fit. One by one the Unseen Hand disperse to return to their assigned areas within the continent. Magikrios lags behind to help any stragglers gather their belongings up. Inks even recieves a pat on her head for her valiant efforts.

Iintahquohae decides she'll go do some more gymnastics elsewhere. Once she's back on her feet, she heads east to Cenril. She whistles three times and her couatl companion flies her the rest of the way to the coast, and her hidden shop in the sand.