MacGlynn's Strike Team finds themselves in the desert ruins of Ahn'Qiraj. A dragon roars in the distance as lightning flashes from the many obelisks.
Oliver looks over the group, and down at the crystal in his hand. He clenches it and stuffs it back in with his belongings, shaking his head. "We ready? No? Good, let's go."
Something appears barring the path ahead...
Khaelanna yells: Feel despair by entering here! The gates will close behind you and your sinful ways will be stripped from you one scream at a time by the rightful rulers of Azeroth!!
Oliver says: So, they a'ready know we're here.
Wilhiém nods. He adjusts the large, horned helm over his head. "Brilliant." Seals it.
Nialos says: Damn well figures.
Oliver says: If we ain't dead yet, Ah reckon that means we still stand a chance.
Liotuse shifts his lower jaw around, peering about the area as he slips the rifle out of its scabbard on his back, cocking the hammer.
Mayrù readjusts her satchel and chews at her lower lip, glancing around the group.
Oliver smiles. He clenches a hand to ease sudden shaking. "Well? Let's go."
Nialos says: Right behind you, Oliver.
Mayrù grips onto Dyna's hand, "We'll be alright!"
Dyna smiles faintly, and squeezes Mayru's hand. "- We'll get him back."
Mayrù says: -Scared?
Oliver looks up at the giant twitching legs. "Light."
Kamazlek yells: Ya come 'ere seekin'da impossible, little ones.Ya efforts be wort'less.. no one escapes owa land..
Llew eyes Kamazlek up and down.
Nialos says: ... Well, he's a charmer.
Oliver says: Jus' one guy?
Nialos says: Don't underestimate him, Oliver.
Oliver says: They must be full 'a themselves.
Liotuse brings the stock of his firearm to his shoulder, peering down the barrel. Finger on the trigger but not firing.
Nialos says: Old Gods, ancient power...
Llew says: Don't underestimate them, Oliver.
Dyna glances sidelong at Mayru, and offers a somewhat enigmatic smile, shaking her head. She turns to peer at the newcomer, and her eyes narrow.
Nialos says: They've got a lot of tricks up their sleeves.
Liotuse says: But this guy's got flesh himself.
Oliver draws his blade. "An' flesh cuts real easy."
Wilhiém winces. "Careful."
Mayrù rolls her shoulders lightly and glances ahead, hushidly replying to Dyna, "I am."
Wilhiém draws a massive shield in front of him, inching forwards. He adjusts a few valves on his armor.
Oliver straightens and steps forward. He's smiling. "Y'got somethin' 'a mine."
Oliver says: Ah ain't leavin' 'til Ah get it back.
Nialos draws his blade, smirking. "Mine too, y'know."
Llew moves in behind Oliver.
Oliver says: Then we'll say y'did a good job tryin' ta stop us.
Kamazlek yells: [Saron] Rruh Ehhga gh Ighrahf!
Kamazlek yells: I WILL RIP OUT YA SOULS!
Nialos says: ... The hell was th-- oh.
Wilhiém yells: None left.
Mayrù lifts her hands up, palms facing upwards, nearby shadows crawl toward her an wrap her body. "Here we go...."
Oliver grins.
Wilhiém says: ...I am -not- getting cooked again.
Liotuse exhales slowly, murmering a soft prayer to the Light. He'd need it.
Llew draws his blades, his voice low. "Shut him up."
Oliver waves his blade, almost mockingly. "Ah think my soul deserves a break, eh?"
Dyna 's features grow quiet, and her burly form- which is definitely wearing some pretty awesome heavy red armor and not flimsy brown chainmail- grows quite rigid. Her lips move in prayer.
Nialos says: Pfft. Never a break for us.
Oliver says: Come at us!
Kamazlek grinned, "With pleasure!"
Mayrù says: Just breathe.... stay aware.... we... we've got this!
Kamazlek set his arm aflame, charging at the group. "DIE!"
Nialos drops into a combat stance, readying himself. "'Course we d-"
Wilhiém drops to the side, covering himself with the shield. Too many times was he cooked. He's used to this!
Kamazlek 's arm rippled the flame surging through his arm at the Alliance.
Dyna 's lips twitch in a distinct frown, and she lunges to the side. Fire. Why was it always with the -fire-?
Oliver really shouldn't mock, especially when fire is involved and he is a zombie. Flame tears at him until he disperses it with a blast of cold.
Liotuse just drops to a knee, twisting his upper half away and trying to shield himself with his left arm.
Mayrù 's shadowed form splays outwords into a cloud of purple ribbons, the fire passes through her shadows and reforms.
Llew hit the sand, avoiding any coming fire.
Nialos stamps a foot down, conjuring a sickly green shield to absorb the flames.
Kamazlek grinned, "Dat's right, scatta and show me ya defensives, little ones."
Nialos immediately moves up on Kamazlek's left, his blade moving down in a vertical arc, runes blazing as an aura of plague encircled the weapon.
Llew comes up out of the sand in a fluid motion, drawing his throwing star from within his leathers and flinging it at Kama's exposed neck
Mayrù waves her hands out before her, ripplies of shadow press form from her hands, moving to their mark to fortify those who've been hurt.
Oliver 's flesh absorbs the shadow almost greedily. The burns fade some.
Wilhiém grins widely. Mmmm, a charge. The shadow-network responds greedily.
Dyna 's quiet gaze fixes intently on the troll, and her lips, still moving in prayer, fall still a moment as she calculates. Her jaw clenches, and she thrusts a palm forward, holy energy lancing out in a bright arc of righteous flame.
Wilhiém chuckles. He flicks open his gauntlet - dark shapes dart out towards the troll, paralytic-bugs. If connected and successful, the partial paralysis and nausea would set in within a minute or so after the bite.
Oliver does a frontal charge, a wild look beginning to develop in his eye. A plague leaks from his flesh, which would make a painful addition to his full-body slam against the troll.
Liotuse rises back into a standing position, picking his target even as his leather smolders. The large troll's right shoulder. His finger clutches the trigger, firing his rifle.
Kamazlek growled, he grasped the first blade and sent a ripple of shadow energy through it. Ducking his head as the ninja star grazed him, leaving a long cut. He roared. "Rise!" He lifted a minion from the sand in the way of the paralytic bug. A small breath before glancing towards the death knight charging at him, he growled. Being knocked back, fighting to regain his composure. He spat against the sand, and shrieked as the bullet lodged within his shoulder blade. "Annoying..little..pests!"
The monstrosity lunges at Llew, it's rusted weapons in it's hands. It then screams in a gut-wrenching voice. "DIEEEEEEE!!"
Ixxie shambles towards Nialos, intent on chewing his arm.
Troshkag charges to Wilhiem swinging with his pick.
An undead orc looks at Nialos, he may be dead but he still has his axe in hand as he raises it and swings it at Nialos.
A ghoul rises from the ground first a hand then a head soon a whole body the body moves cracking before reaching down grabbing a staff the head stuck sideways as the zombie using his staff casted spells resembling shadow bolts at Tavin
Llew staggers back as he is hit with surprising force. Weakened for a moment, he lets out a bellow of pain-fueled anger, and shoves his main blade at his attacker's head.
Nialos' grin turns into a snarl as the two minions assault him. Attempting to shake them off, he twirls around and moves to cleave the undead.
The shambling corpse stiffens as the blade pierces it's skull and exits through the back. It then goes limp, it's black tongue lolling to the side and it's arms drop it's rusted weapons.
Oliver snarls and turns to face his attacker. He brings the pommel of his blade into the construct's skull, shattering it.
The cleave slices his chest in half one side falling from the other and he dies back into the sand.
Ixxie splits in two. The top half will moans and claws at the ground, while the bottom half lays still.
Mumbling something in an unintelligable(sp) language the zombie is struck hard on the head before a lard crack is heard the zombie falling to a pile of bones
Kamazlek cackles. "I will keep ya from passin' fa da Glory of da Gods!"
Mayrù bursts another torrent of shadows toward her allies, aiming to soothe their wounds and dampen the pain they feel.
The final ghoul's body drops back into the ground leaving only a pickaxe.
Dyna spies the last undead; her heavily armored form emmits a glare of holy energy which surges faintly as she thrusts a palm forward, lunging after with the rather enormous sword she wields. Holy judgement gogogo! Filthy undead.
Kamazlek cackles, "Glad ya enjoyed mah little friends, now fa real powa!"
Kamazlek yells: Time ta face da rage.. of da Maw's fait'ful.. da Forgetten Drakkari.. Hhan..Ghaskurrf, Fah ehhga ar ah grih eh ah Ehhga! Burn in the void!
A mass of black flame consumes the lumbering troll.
Kamazlek cranks his fist back, he charged at Mac, hand extended, transfering his greatest.
Nialos staggers back, bathed in the shadowy flames. Without thinking, he conjures a second runic blade behind the Troll, which moves to swipe at his hind.
Oliver runs at Kamazlek in a rage. A green haze forms around him, empowering him further as the magical flames are absorbed. He raises his sword and brings it down in a downward arc, runes blazing. Plague erupts from his throat, coating anything in front of him.
Kamazlek blinks, he wails, the blade wrenching down into him. He growls, being covered in the spray of plague, coughing up blood madly. "Ga- GAH!" He scratches at his skin, blood erupting from his body as the blade nearly cut him clean.
Kamazlek winces, cackling. "S-So even Deat' can die..heh.."
Kamazlek yells: YA WILL N-NOT MAKE IT THROUGH! BRYAGH, DESTROY DEMS!
Showing posts with label AQ attack. Show all posts
Showing posts with label AQ attack. Show all posts
Saturday, February 19, 2011
Attackers vs. Bryagh
There is a distant roar...
Bryagh howls as his shadow passes overhead and into the next area, electricity flashes wildly off the obelisks.
Dyna glances back at Mayru, and moves to return to her side and grab her by the arm before hauling after Bryagh.
Oliver rips his blade from the troll in time to look up at the flying beast. A black blight oozes from the corners of his mouth, and his eyes don't seem quite right.
Mayrù drops her shadows, frowning as she glances around the group, "Do I need to patch anyone up?"
Oliver says: Let's -GO-.
Liotuse slowly reloads his rifle, wincing with the motions. He was nice and seared through the leather but made no mention. The rifle is slung onto his back, drawing his longswords.
Dyna says: - No time, love.
The massive purple dragon lets loose a rock-shattering roar, challenging any to come near the power crystal for the defensive matrix.
Wilhiém winces. He lifts a single hand, darts behind his armor. Shadow-ebergy flickers about as he flimsily patches himself up.
Oliver stops as the walls shake from the roar. He looks for the source.
Liotuse says: ...I suppose that's the next bastard.
Wilhiém says: Cute. Colorful.
Nialos 's blade flashes red, sending a sweeping aura of crimson through the Knight's body. "Hmf. Ugly as hell."
Oliver says: Who here's good with lizards.
Liotuse nods, managing a grin as he brings his longswords up. "And purple. I'm starting to kick myself for not bringing my Northrend crossbow."
Wilhiém cracks his neck. "I thought you liked purple."
Dyna's blue eyes narrow and she places herself firmly in front of Mayru, a low growl emanating from her throat.
Liotuse says: Nope. I do however. Like the idea of flanking and surrounding a dragon to divide its attention. Then taking it down.
Liotuse glances to the others, raising a brow.
Nialos says: Strike the underbelly.
Dyna says: Tia was right.
Dyna blinks, frowning, and pulls a small fortune card from her belt. She passes it silently back to Mayru. "- For luck."
Oliver says: Ah like both these ahdeas. Let's do both. Split up, distract its attention. Make it rear or take off, an' strike it.
Mayrù exhales slowly, laying a hand on Dyna's shoulder, "Do what you all must, I'll keep you all guarded." She takes the fortune card and nods, slipping it into her robes.
Liotuse says: It's patrolling. The moment we cross that threshold... it's on. What Nialos said. Underbelly.
Llew immediately moves off toward the dragon, fading from sight.
Mayrù reaches into the hem of her silk glove, pulling out a pendant on a silver chain. She set's in in Dyna's palm, "For luck."
Oliver says: Let's go.
Dyna glances at Mayru and offers a faint smile. She leans in and kisses the woman's forehead, then salutes and charges after.
Nialos says: ... I think I got it's attention.
Wilhiém shrugs. "I do too." He lets out a low growl, shield out, sword out, both basically pointy extensions of fists. Aims for the left wing.
Bryagh snarls.
Oliver runs around the dragon's side.
Liotuse scrapes his dual longswords against each other, grimacing. The thing has some -foul- breath.
Bryagh rears back and blasts flame in all directions.
Llew is ON FIRE.
Wilhiém is RIPPING AWAY AT THE WING.
Mayrù calls for shadows once more. gogoshadowform.
Bryagh lets out a rumbling snarl. Apophan's voice booms through the windstones floating around. "YOU WILL DIE... HERE"
Liotuse is -barely- able to roll underneath the torrent of flame, kicking up sand.
Dyna charges forward, her massive sword at the ready- and is stopped by a massive gout of flame. Shadow of a dragon? More like watch out for it's face. Her armor heats up red-hot.
Nialos dances around the flames, slowly but surely making his way towards the dragon's right side! He strikes at the wings with a simple swing.
Mayrù is guarded from the fire because Dyna's in front of her.
Llew is knocked out of stealth by the sudden burst of flame, but is luckily very close. However, burning, he stabs almost blindly at Bryagh's chest.
Bryagh howls in pain.
Mayrù reaches forward to touch Dyna's shoulder, shadows arm from her fingertips and toward the other injured by the flames, the magics am to quell the burns and cool the armor.
Bryagh snarls at Maryu for repairing his pretty fire.
Mayrù blinks several times as the dragon's gaze fixes on her. Her features draw blank. Oh noes.
Dyna quails a moment, the far too familiar reek of burned flesh emanating up through her heavy armor- but at the shadowy touch and the stilling of the burns, she shakes herself, and makes a crooked lunge forward, shouting something incoherently to regain the dargon's attention and unleashing a holy judgement straight at it's stupid ugly face.
Bryagh whimpers as his head shoots to the side from the blow
Wilhiém charges at the wing - and proceeds to hack and tear and climb, and basically make the thing -bleed- in the nastiest way possible. He's making his way to the neck - and throws out a hooked blade, to its base.
Bryagh lifts his wing, preventing a complete break, but his shoulder drops from the injury.
Liotuse doesn't even take a moment to collect himself, his feet slipping into the sand for support as he pushes off the ground and dives for -underneath- the left wing, jerking both his longswords up to try and score a hit into its underbelly.
Bryagh roars as he rears back, his black blood spewing over the attackers. The drake backs away snapping and slashing at the foes and bleeding profusely.
Bryagh gets a... glint in his eye.
The Dragon rears back and howls, dust left dormant for thousands of years rattles off the walls as he makes a break for it.
Wilhiém falls off with a womanly shriek.
Liotuse is knocked on his ass, eyes shutting with pain as he lets everyone know it. Swear after swear. It passes, or at least he tucks it into a corner he won't pay any mind for the next little while.
Nialos is blown back by the dusty shriek, colliding with the nearby wall with an 'oof!' "... Son of a bitch."
Oliver manages to remain on two feet, though lifts an arm to shield himself from the blast. He looks ahead.
Oliver says: Two ways t' go from 'ere.
Liotuse lets his head fall back a moment, taking a breather before he pushes himself to his feet and is sure to grab his blackened swords. A flick to remove the drake blood.
Nialos says: ...Damn it all.
Nialos says: I hate dragons.
Wilhiém pockets a long, leathery, blood-soaked strap of the dragon-webbing. Grins.
Liotuse rolls his shoulders back, taking in a fresh lungful of air. Or it's stale. And sandy.
Liotuse says: ...Well which one are we hitting first?
Liotuse glances between the two directions.
Oliver says: ... We need this t'be fast. We should split.
Llew looks to Oliver with a slight frown.
Nialos says: Huh. Sounds like a bad idea.
Nialos says: Let's do it.
Liotuse says: You sure dividing will conquer as much? There's a lot of 'what ifs' in that. And I know you want -...
Liotuse glances to Nialos. He shakes his head with a chuckle.
Oliver says: This is a'ready suicide. We seem t'be handlin' ourselves better'n Ah expected.
Wilhiém nods silently. "Time is of issue here, I... understand as much." He coughs into his hand. "Yep, my ribs are intact. I think."
Liotuse looks down at his charred leather suit.
Nialos says: Pfft. Daughter's on the line.
Oliver says: This'll be quicker if we cover more ground.
Oliver says: So.
Liotuse says: ...And in case they want to move prisoners on us. Alright. I see the merits.
Oliver says: We still have ways t'communicate.
Oliver looks at Mayru and Dyna. "Ah know th' two 'a you won't split. Wil an' Liotuse, y'should go with 'em.
Wilhiém wrinkles his nose. "...right."
Oliver points over yonder.
Oliver says: Go that way.
Liotuse furrows his brows a touch. "...You sure you don't want Mayru? Or can you guys patch yourselves up a bit?"
Nialos waves Liotuse off. "Eh. If it gets bad, I can manage some healing."
Oliver says: Nialos an' Ah kin keep up. Ah trust Llew not t'be lit on fire twice in one night.
Llew snorts. Grumbling. "You'd be surprised." He steps up.
Oliver says: Th' three 'a us'll be headed right.
Liotuse nods, looking over to Llew. Then down to himself. "I think he'll be luckier than me."
Wilhiém chuckles. "I can offer some patching for those burns. As someone that had to deal with this.. rather... frequently." He winces.
Liotuse lifts a boot, wiping off his longswords on the inside of his foot. "...It's horrible to say. But I hope this was the direction the fucking dragon went. We have one more than you guys."
Mayrù stands silently as the groups are decided. She pulls the fortune card Dyna had given her out and turns it over in her hand, emerald gaze watching over it distantly. She chews her lower lip and smiles as she exhales, "... We're doing well so far."
Oliver 's hand begins to shake again. His fist clenches quickly to stop it. "Ah think we're done waitin' around."
Llew grints his teeth, frowning deeply. And flings his dagger at that stupid snake.
Nialos taps his foot impatiently. "Let's get the show on the road."
Oliver says: Nobody hesitate t'call fer help. If we's able, we'll come runnin'.
Bryagh howls as his shadow passes overhead and into the next area, electricity flashes wildly off the obelisks.
Dyna glances back at Mayru, and moves to return to her side and grab her by the arm before hauling after Bryagh.
Oliver rips his blade from the troll in time to look up at the flying beast. A black blight oozes from the corners of his mouth, and his eyes don't seem quite right.
Mayrù drops her shadows, frowning as she glances around the group, "Do I need to patch anyone up?"
Oliver says: Let's -GO-.
Liotuse slowly reloads his rifle, wincing with the motions. He was nice and seared through the leather but made no mention. The rifle is slung onto his back, drawing his longswords.
Dyna says: - No time, love.
The massive purple dragon lets loose a rock-shattering roar, challenging any to come near the power crystal for the defensive matrix.
Wilhiém winces. He lifts a single hand, darts behind his armor. Shadow-ebergy flickers about as he flimsily patches himself up.
Oliver stops as the walls shake from the roar. He looks for the source.
Liotuse says: ...I suppose that's the next bastard.
Wilhiém says: Cute. Colorful.
Nialos 's blade flashes red, sending a sweeping aura of crimson through the Knight's body. "Hmf. Ugly as hell."
Oliver says: Who here's good with lizards.
Liotuse nods, managing a grin as he brings his longswords up. "And purple. I'm starting to kick myself for not bringing my Northrend crossbow."
Wilhiém cracks his neck. "I thought you liked purple."
Dyna's blue eyes narrow and she places herself firmly in front of Mayru, a low growl emanating from her throat.
Liotuse says: Nope. I do however. Like the idea of flanking and surrounding a dragon to divide its attention. Then taking it down.
Liotuse glances to the others, raising a brow.
Nialos says: Strike the underbelly.
Dyna says: Tia was right.
Dyna blinks, frowning, and pulls a small fortune card from her belt. She passes it silently back to Mayru. "- For luck."
Oliver says: Ah like both these ahdeas. Let's do both. Split up, distract its attention. Make it rear or take off, an' strike it.
Mayrù exhales slowly, laying a hand on Dyna's shoulder, "Do what you all must, I'll keep you all guarded." She takes the fortune card and nods, slipping it into her robes.
Liotuse says: It's patrolling. The moment we cross that threshold... it's on. What Nialos said. Underbelly.
Llew immediately moves off toward the dragon, fading from sight.
Mayrù reaches into the hem of her silk glove, pulling out a pendant on a silver chain. She set's in in Dyna's palm, "For luck."
Oliver says: Let's go.
Dyna glances at Mayru and offers a faint smile. She leans in and kisses the woman's forehead, then salutes and charges after.
Nialos says: ... I think I got it's attention.
Wilhiém shrugs. "I do too." He lets out a low growl, shield out, sword out, both basically pointy extensions of fists. Aims for the left wing.
Bryagh snarls.
Oliver runs around the dragon's side.
Liotuse scrapes his dual longswords against each other, grimacing. The thing has some -foul- breath.
Bryagh rears back and blasts flame in all directions.
Llew is ON FIRE.
Wilhiém is RIPPING AWAY AT THE WING.
Mayrù calls for shadows once more. gogoshadowform.
Bryagh lets out a rumbling snarl. Apophan's voice booms through the windstones floating around. "YOU WILL DIE... HERE"
Liotuse is -barely- able to roll underneath the torrent of flame, kicking up sand.
Dyna charges forward, her massive sword at the ready- and is stopped by a massive gout of flame. Shadow of a dragon? More like watch out for it's face. Her armor heats up red-hot.
Nialos dances around the flames, slowly but surely making his way towards the dragon's right side! He strikes at the wings with a simple swing.
Mayrù is guarded from the fire because Dyna's in front of her.
Llew is knocked out of stealth by the sudden burst of flame, but is luckily very close. However, burning, he stabs almost blindly at Bryagh's chest.
Bryagh howls in pain.
Mayrù reaches forward to touch Dyna's shoulder, shadows arm from her fingertips and toward the other injured by the flames, the magics am to quell the burns and cool the armor.
Bryagh snarls at Maryu for repairing his pretty fire.
Mayrù blinks several times as the dragon's gaze fixes on her. Her features draw blank. Oh noes.
Dyna quails a moment, the far too familiar reek of burned flesh emanating up through her heavy armor- but at the shadowy touch and the stilling of the burns, she shakes herself, and makes a crooked lunge forward, shouting something incoherently to regain the dargon's attention and unleashing a holy judgement straight at it's stupid ugly face.
Bryagh whimpers as his head shoots to the side from the blow
Wilhiém charges at the wing - and proceeds to hack and tear and climb, and basically make the thing -bleed- in the nastiest way possible. He's making his way to the neck - and throws out a hooked blade, to its base.
Bryagh lifts his wing, preventing a complete break, but his shoulder drops from the injury.
Liotuse doesn't even take a moment to collect himself, his feet slipping into the sand for support as he pushes off the ground and dives for -underneath- the left wing, jerking both his longswords up to try and score a hit into its underbelly.
Bryagh roars as he rears back, his black blood spewing over the attackers. The drake backs away snapping and slashing at the foes and bleeding profusely.
Bryagh gets a... glint in his eye.
The Dragon rears back and howls, dust left dormant for thousands of years rattles off the walls as he makes a break for it.
Wilhiém falls off with a womanly shriek.
Liotuse is knocked on his ass, eyes shutting with pain as he lets everyone know it. Swear after swear. It passes, or at least he tucks it into a corner he won't pay any mind for the next little while.
Nialos is blown back by the dusty shriek, colliding with the nearby wall with an 'oof!' "... Son of a bitch."
Oliver manages to remain on two feet, though lifts an arm to shield himself from the blast. He looks ahead.
Oliver says: Two ways t' go from 'ere.
Liotuse lets his head fall back a moment, taking a breather before he pushes himself to his feet and is sure to grab his blackened swords. A flick to remove the drake blood.
Nialos says: ...Damn it all.
Nialos says: I hate dragons.
Wilhiém pockets a long, leathery, blood-soaked strap of the dragon-webbing. Grins.
Liotuse rolls his shoulders back, taking in a fresh lungful of air. Or it's stale. And sandy.
Liotuse says: ...Well which one are we hitting first?
Liotuse glances between the two directions.
Oliver says: ... We need this t'be fast. We should split.
Llew looks to Oliver with a slight frown.
Nialos says: Huh. Sounds like a bad idea.
Nialos says: Let's do it.
Liotuse says: You sure dividing will conquer as much? There's a lot of 'what ifs' in that. And I know you want -...
Liotuse glances to Nialos. He shakes his head with a chuckle.
Oliver says: This is a'ready suicide. We seem t'be handlin' ourselves better'n Ah expected.
Wilhiém nods silently. "Time is of issue here, I... understand as much." He coughs into his hand. "Yep, my ribs are intact. I think."
Liotuse looks down at his charred leather suit.
Nialos says: Pfft. Daughter's on the line.
Oliver says: This'll be quicker if we cover more ground.
Oliver says: So.
Liotuse says: ...And in case they want to move prisoners on us. Alright. I see the merits.
Oliver says: We still have ways t'communicate.
Oliver looks at Mayru and Dyna. "Ah know th' two 'a you won't split. Wil an' Liotuse, y'should go with 'em.
Wilhiém wrinkles his nose. "...right."
Oliver points over yonder.
Oliver says: Go that way.
Liotuse furrows his brows a touch. "...You sure you don't want Mayru? Or can you guys patch yourselves up a bit?"
Nialos waves Liotuse off. "Eh. If it gets bad, I can manage some healing."
Oliver says: Nialos an' Ah kin keep up. Ah trust Llew not t'be lit on fire twice in one night.
Llew snorts. Grumbling. "You'd be surprised." He steps up.
Oliver says: Th' three 'a us'll be headed right.
Liotuse nods, looking over to Llew. Then down to himself. "I think he'll be luckier than me."
Wilhiém chuckles. "I can offer some patching for those burns. As someone that had to deal with this.. rather... frequently." He winces.
Liotuse lifts a boot, wiping off his longswords on the inside of his foot. "...It's horrible to say. But I hope this was the direction the fucking dragon went. We have one more than you guys."
Mayrù stands silently as the groups are decided. She pulls the fortune card Dyna had given her out and turns it over in her hand, emerald gaze watching over it distantly. She chews her lower lip and smiles as she exhales, "... We're doing well so far."
Oliver 's hand begins to shake again. His fist clenches quickly to stop it. "Ah think we're done waitin' around."
Llew grints his teeth, frowning deeply. And flings his dagger at that stupid snake.
Nialos taps his foot impatiently. "Let's get the show on the road."
Oliver says: Nobody hesitate t'call fer help. If we's able, we'll come runnin'.
Team White Sigil: Insect Wing
As they enter the area, the buzzing sound.... gets louder...
Liotuse looks behind him to Mayru and Dyna. There's a nod to them, then looks over to Oliver. "Light be with you three. And the same to you."
Oliver says: ... Light be with us all.
Wilhiém says: I hear bugs.
Liotuse says: You're in -Silithus-.
Mayrù wrinkles her nose, "B-bugs?"
Wilhiém says: And I -love- it.
Liotuse shakes his head.
Dyna blinks back at Mayru quietly.
Dyna says: You'll be fine, dear.
Liotuse spreads his hands wide. "This little valley looks inviting."
Apophan's voice booms over the Windstones, "Xia chk'rik ik i ki k!!!!"
Liotuse sighs. "Chittering too! Fantastic!"
Wilhiém grins widely. "...this is amazing."
The Hivemother lets loose an earsplitting shriek.
Liotuse grimaces and immediately brings his fists up over his ears.
Wilhiém fights back the urge to take notes and draws his sword instead.
Mayrù says: -amazing-?
Wilhiém says: Have you -seen- anything like this before?
Liotuse slogs his way through the water, spitting as he glances right. "There's a path."
Three eggs plop from the queen's, well... thing.
Wilhiém still fights back the urge to take notes.
The eggs hatch, from each emerges a tentacled, mutated trespasser. Apophan's voice echoes, "Behold. Your. FATE!"
Liotuse recoils a bit, shifting to the right and trying to find a more shallow part. There. At least he can sort of stand, raising his longswords. "Try us."
Liotuse glances up at the Silithid queen, then down to the mutations. "Why. You three are as ugly as your mother. Now that's impressive."
Insect A says: You shall be one of us soon... Very soon... So you should not say such things...
Liotuse fakes a loud gasp, glancing back to his three companions. "They respond pretty well. Maybe I can teach them the art of comebacks."
Wilhiém says: Shhh, shh, I already have self-esteem issues.
Insect A opens his mouth impossibly wide and let's a shrieking battle cry. He then jumps into the air and lands on top of Liotuse, weapon in hands.
Liotuse blinks at the creature's speed, trying to raise his weapons to deflect. His reaction was off and slow, crashing underneath the water with the mutated creature on him.
Insect A says: DIE! DIE!DIE!
Insect B stares with the white blank eyes the staff glowing as it aimed at Mayru casting a sinister curse of pain at the person.
Mayrù inhales sharply, hand gripping at her chest as the curse sinks into it's mark.
Insect C grabs his weapons in both hands charges at Willhiem, swinging his axe at his chest.
Wilhiém coughs, gurgling, letting out guttural swears as the axe lunges between the plates, no doubt breaking something important.
Mayrù shakes her head and arches her shadows out toward the injured, warding them and soothing their pain.
Liotuse -grapples- the monstrosity with his right arm, trying to jerk it around and reverse their positions so he's above it. Underneath the sick liquids they're immersed in, he lunges with the sword in his other hand to impale it.
Dyna growls and steps infront of Mayru protectively. She casts out her right hand, a golden celestial hammer flies forth aimed for Insect B's chest.
Insect B laughes as he snaps his staff to the right deflecting the hammer, "Infidel!"
The Hivemother lets out a shriek. Hivecall.
Insect A grabs Liotuse by his robes and pulls him forth, with a curved knife in his other hand.
Insect B slams the staff onto the water making a small tidal wave fly toward Mayru.
Mayrù lifts her arms in front of her face to try and block the rushing water. She sputters and coughs once it passes, gasping for air.
There's a lovely fresh spurt of red colour in the liquid as the knife slips into Lio, bypassing his tunic and the piece of metal beneath it.
Insect C raises his hand out of the water grabbing Willhiem's shouders bringing his blade in from behind stabbing him in the back.
Mayrù holds a hand over her throat, focusing on working past the pain she's feeling. Her other hand arcs to throw soothing shadows toward Liotuse.
Wilhiém growls. He turns, swings, bringing out the hooked sword and aiming -just- below the attacher's sternum, hooked up, aiming to gut it - in the nicest way possible.
Liotuse jerks himself back to remove the knife from his torso, finding his actions a bit easier without as much pain to deal with. He lets go of both his swords to reach out and grab the creature's neck, jerking to try and break whatever now passes as its neck.
A resounding crack is heard, and the creature goes limp. It now banks in the liquid, not stirring for a moment.
Dyna 's eye tics. She snarls and lunges at the thing that hurt Mayru, holy energy bursting from her weapon to smack the carapace- hard.
A massive proboscis descends from the Hivemother and into each of the remaining pets... She unshackles herself from the wall...
Insect B falls to the water,dead
The Queen drops down and hisses angrily at the intruders to her hive. However, lethargy has taken its toll.
The Queen spits acid in all directions. The poison splatters against the fluid, sending it flying.
The Queen's deathwail echoes across the desert... the Silithid on the outside battle would become enraged.
Liotuse manages to break the surface of the liquid, gasping for air as he gestures to the others to follow him, seeing the collapsed Hivemother.
Liotuse sets a hand to the open knife wound in the side of his torso, trying to wipe the crap away from the area. He doesn't want that infected, wiping at his eyes as well. "You... okay Mayru? Took some hits..."
Mayrù drops her levitation spell as she settled on the bank. She nods distantly and closes her eyes to regain her focus. "I'll... Be fine, let's press onwards."
Liotuse sheathes his swords, reaching back for his rifle to work hastily to clean the flintlock mechanism. "We've got to keep moving then. I think that might have taken longer... than it should've." It's clear he's trying to catch his breath.
Dyna 's lips remain thin, and she hovers guardedly close to Mayru, frowning. She doesn't say anything, but her jaw is clenched.
Wilhiém crawls out, coughing, spitting, swearing. He pulls off his helm and shakes his head about. He winces - hand darting behind his armor - and tugging the network shut once again.
Liotuse coughs and spits. He doesn't even want to question what he was just swimming in. "Thanks for the save by the way. May. Didn't see it but I did notice I didn't feel like I was just -stabbed-."
Wilhiém says: Liotuse. Get over here.
Liotuse stops.
Mayrù smiles weakly, "Of course. I can surpress the pain and keep you fighting. We'll fix wounds once we reach triage."
Wilhiém stretches out a hand. On it - a small bug, stinger extended. "Adrenaline shot. Bring up to neck. Twist head. Numbs pain, gives a boost."
Liotuse stretches up to his full height, shaking his head as he seems to zone out. Centering himself and taking a few seconds to stretch out his arms. "I'm fine. A stab isn't much and we've just started. Keep it for yourself."
Dyna 's jaw clenches as she casts a worried glance towards Tuse, and frowns faintly. She seems more interested in staring at her boots now.
Mayrù loops in arm with Dyna's and lean's her cheek on the woman's shoulder as they walk -- some small comfort.
Wilhiém winces. "Whatever you wish." He brings the insect to his own neck, the stinger goign in-out. Hisses, tosses it aside.
As the group nears, they could hear the pained roars of Bryagh.
Liotuse says: ...Company.
Wilhiém says: Familiar.
Liotuse says: It can't fly and it's wounded on the left side. Stay on that side. Abuse it's lack of mobility. Watch the head.
Apophan yells: You will go no closer, BLASPHEMING TRESSPASSERSSS!
Apophan yells: Flee, then, Acolyte.
Apophan slams his scythe to the ground, it burns into the rocks.
Wilhiém says: That.
Wilhiém says: Is a cow.
Apophan says: You've caused my beloved Bryagh much pain... and for that... you will die. You've slain the Hivemother... do you know how long it takes to GROW ONE?!
Liotuse says: A while. Mad bastard, aren't you? Maybe we'll help next time we visit if you hand us our people back.
Apophan says: No matter, I have a surprise for you...
Wilhiém taps his chin. "No, but I would be interested to find out."
Apophan says: An old friend...
Liotuse loads the rifle, cocking the hammer and slinging it onto his bac but instead draws his longswords.
Mayrù reaches out to grip limply at Dyna's wrist, ".... Oh light."
Wilhiém says: ...the penguin is not here, is it?
The broken, twisted and mutilated shell of Strahm steps forward. Lightweight bands of Elementium cover his chest and back.
Liotuse tosses a 'shut up for now' look over his shoulder at Wilhiem.
Stràhm approaches alongside the Apophan. Black sclera-colored eyes stare intently at the trespassers. A smoking rifle is held in both hands across his chest. A chest that is covered with plates of Elementium melded to his skin. "Yes, Sovereign."
Apophan says: Destroy these intruders... I tire of their pathetic mewlings.
Stràhm says: As you command.
Liotuse backpedals, murmering lowly to his group. Perhaps too low for Apophan or Strahm to hear. "Aim to incapacitate. Not kill."
Apophan looks at Strahm.
Wilhiém looks disappointed.
Apophan says: Aim to decapitate.
Wilhiém mimicks the cow with a hand-puppet.
Liotuse flashes Apophan a grin. You just had to catch that didn't you? Lio gives his longswords a whirl in each hand, already trying to spike his adrenaline.
Strahm aims his rifle ahead of him at the group.
Dyna just stares. Her expression does not appear to change, and her hand grips Mayru's, her features strangely flat. More holy energy bristles, forming a haze about her thick red armor.
Liotuse tries to pivot and dart to the left as he sees the end of the rifle his way. All he manages to do is relocate it to the left side of his midsection. His tunic and the metal within it stands no real chance, the round striking deep.
Mayrù 's hand jerks up as the bullet flies, enveloping it in shadows the lessen the damage it would do to it's target.
Apophan chuckles, "I think I will enjoy watching thiss..." he moves over to his other cultists.
Wilhiém winces and spits on the ground. "Fookin' cultists." He re-seals his helm and dashes out, spiked shield in front of him - towards Minion!Strahm.
Liotuse lets himself fall to the side. Laying down would be a bit more comfortable than standing with a bullet wound now. He slips the throwing knife out of his right boot, snapping his wrist to try and catch Strahm low in the leg.
Kamazlek cackles a little gnomish cackle. "Very amusing!"
Dyna releases Mayru and moves forward, bringing her large red blade up as she darts forward and slamming forward with holy judgement, blade glittering with Light.
Stràhm hardly makes a noise as he's impaled, cut, and stabbed with a flying projectile. Still, he stares with a high intensity within his black-clouded eyes at the group.
Strahm vanishes in a sudden crack of electricity. He appears here, then there, and seemingly everywhere at once. But when he finally remains still, both blades are held out, the rifle strapped to his back. ( AOE all roll )
Apophan snarls his flaming eyes widen in abject rage.
Mayrù moves closer to Liotuse, waving her hands forward to soothe his pain with more shadow energy!
Wilhiém throws the shield aside. He hisses, winces, then pulls off hsi gauntlet - bare hand darting for Strahm's throat. He would attempt a drain, simple shadow-sort - if successful, it would significantly weaken the poor... beaten... thing.
Liotuse dips his head in thanks to Mayru, struggling to get to his feet. He doesn't bother picking up his longswords, stumbling into a charge to break for Strahm's right and snap his left leg around in a strike to his kidney. Plating or not, he might be able to feel it.
Dyna's eyes briefly close as she lunges forward, closing the small distance between herself and the thing that used to be her husband. She doesn't hesitate- her sword plunges down for his collar, striking at the throat; holy energy sizzles as she infuses the strike with righteous vengeance.
Apophan says: My creation. Kill them.
Stràhm falters slightly, eyes lidding partially at the battering. The grip on his throat seems to drain him, and the kick to his metal-plated side may have done it, too. Or that oddly weak chop to the collar bone. His attention, however, abruptly and fully shifts to Wilhiem. One of his swords is raised up, and made to cut him vigorously across the chest.
Wilhiém hisses. The drain fills him, mending - the pain mostly negated. The sword slides between the plates, blood gushing out. He falls to his side, grasping, attempting to flimsily heal what he can.
The Door to the Watchers Terrace creaks open.
Apophan turns and his eyes widen... in horror.
Apophan roars with bestial vigor. So fierce!
Mayrù frowns sadly toward Strahm's desecrated body. Shadows swirl around her hand and she lobs a mind blast toward him, fully geared to just disable him.
Liotuse looks behind him to Mayru and Dyna. There's a nod to them, then looks over to Oliver. "Light be with you three. And the same to you."
Oliver says: ... Light be with us all.
Wilhiém says: I hear bugs.
Liotuse says: You're in -Silithus-.
Mayrù wrinkles her nose, "B-bugs?"
Wilhiém says: And I -love- it.
Liotuse shakes his head.
Dyna blinks back at Mayru quietly.
Dyna says: You'll be fine, dear.
Liotuse spreads his hands wide. "This little valley looks inviting."
Apophan's voice booms over the Windstones, "Xia chk'rik ik i ki k!!!!"
Liotuse sighs. "Chittering too! Fantastic!"
Wilhiém grins widely. "...this is amazing."
The Hivemother lets loose an earsplitting shriek.
Liotuse grimaces and immediately brings his fists up over his ears.
Wilhiém fights back the urge to take notes and draws his sword instead.
Mayrù says: -amazing-?
Wilhiém says: Have you -seen- anything like this before?
Liotuse slogs his way through the water, spitting as he glances right. "There's a path."
Three eggs plop from the queen's, well... thing.
Wilhiém still fights back the urge to take notes.
The eggs hatch, from each emerges a tentacled, mutated trespasser. Apophan's voice echoes, "Behold. Your. FATE!"
Liotuse recoils a bit, shifting to the right and trying to find a more shallow part. There. At least he can sort of stand, raising his longswords. "Try us."
Liotuse glances up at the Silithid queen, then down to the mutations. "Why. You three are as ugly as your mother. Now that's impressive."
Insect A says: You shall be one of us soon... Very soon... So you should not say such things...
Liotuse fakes a loud gasp, glancing back to his three companions. "They respond pretty well. Maybe I can teach them the art of comebacks."
Wilhiém says: Shhh, shh, I already have self-esteem issues.
Insect A opens his mouth impossibly wide and let's a shrieking battle cry. He then jumps into the air and lands on top of Liotuse, weapon in hands.
Liotuse blinks at the creature's speed, trying to raise his weapons to deflect. His reaction was off and slow, crashing underneath the water with the mutated creature on him.
Insect A says: DIE! DIE!DIE!
Insect B stares with the white blank eyes the staff glowing as it aimed at Mayru casting a sinister curse of pain at the person.
Mayrù inhales sharply, hand gripping at her chest as the curse sinks into it's mark.
Insect C grabs his weapons in both hands charges at Willhiem, swinging his axe at his chest.
Wilhiém coughs, gurgling, letting out guttural swears as the axe lunges between the plates, no doubt breaking something important.
Mayrù shakes her head and arches her shadows out toward the injured, warding them and soothing their pain.
Liotuse -grapples- the monstrosity with his right arm, trying to jerk it around and reverse their positions so he's above it. Underneath the sick liquids they're immersed in, he lunges with the sword in his other hand to impale it.
Dyna growls and steps infront of Mayru protectively. She casts out her right hand, a golden celestial hammer flies forth aimed for Insect B's chest.
Insect B laughes as he snaps his staff to the right deflecting the hammer, "Infidel!"
The Hivemother lets out a shriek. Hivecall.
Insect A grabs Liotuse by his robes and pulls him forth, with a curved knife in his other hand.
Insect B slams the staff onto the water making a small tidal wave fly toward Mayru.
Mayrù lifts her arms in front of her face to try and block the rushing water. She sputters and coughs once it passes, gasping for air.
There's a lovely fresh spurt of red colour in the liquid as the knife slips into Lio, bypassing his tunic and the piece of metal beneath it.
Insect C raises his hand out of the water grabbing Willhiem's shouders bringing his blade in from behind stabbing him in the back.
Mayrù holds a hand over her throat, focusing on working past the pain she's feeling. Her other hand arcs to throw soothing shadows toward Liotuse.
Wilhiém growls. He turns, swings, bringing out the hooked sword and aiming -just- below the attacher's sternum, hooked up, aiming to gut it - in the nicest way possible.
Liotuse jerks himself back to remove the knife from his torso, finding his actions a bit easier without as much pain to deal with. He lets go of both his swords to reach out and grab the creature's neck, jerking to try and break whatever now passes as its neck.
A resounding crack is heard, and the creature goes limp. It now banks in the liquid, not stirring for a moment.
Dyna 's eye tics. She snarls and lunges at the thing that hurt Mayru, holy energy bursting from her weapon to smack the carapace- hard.
A massive proboscis descends from the Hivemother and into each of the remaining pets... She unshackles herself from the wall...
Insect B falls to the water,dead
The Queen drops down and hisses angrily at the intruders to her hive. However, lethargy has taken its toll.
The Queen spits acid in all directions. The poison splatters against the fluid, sending it flying.
The Queen's deathwail echoes across the desert... the Silithid on the outside battle would become enraged.
Liotuse manages to break the surface of the liquid, gasping for air as he gestures to the others to follow him, seeing the collapsed Hivemother.
Liotuse sets a hand to the open knife wound in the side of his torso, trying to wipe the crap away from the area. He doesn't want that infected, wiping at his eyes as well. "You... okay Mayru? Took some hits..."
Mayrù drops her levitation spell as she settled on the bank. She nods distantly and closes her eyes to regain her focus. "I'll... Be fine, let's press onwards."
Liotuse sheathes his swords, reaching back for his rifle to work hastily to clean the flintlock mechanism. "We've got to keep moving then. I think that might have taken longer... than it should've." It's clear he's trying to catch his breath.
Dyna 's lips remain thin, and she hovers guardedly close to Mayru, frowning. She doesn't say anything, but her jaw is clenched.
Wilhiém crawls out, coughing, spitting, swearing. He pulls off his helm and shakes his head about. He winces - hand darting behind his armor - and tugging the network shut once again.
Liotuse coughs and spits. He doesn't even want to question what he was just swimming in. "Thanks for the save by the way. May. Didn't see it but I did notice I didn't feel like I was just -stabbed-."
Wilhiém says: Liotuse. Get over here.
Liotuse stops.
Mayrù smiles weakly, "Of course. I can surpress the pain and keep you fighting. We'll fix wounds once we reach triage."
Wilhiém stretches out a hand. On it - a small bug, stinger extended. "Adrenaline shot. Bring up to neck. Twist head. Numbs pain, gives a boost."
Liotuse stretches up to his full height, shaking his head as he seems to zone out. Centering himself and taking a few seconds to stretch out his arms. "I'm fine. A stab isn't much and we've just started. Keep it for yourself."
Dyna 's jaw clenches as she casts a worried glance towards Tuse, and frowns faintly. She seems more interested in staring at her boots now.
Mayrù loops in arm with Dyna's and lean's her cheek on the woman's shoulder as they walk -- some small comfort.
Wilhiém winces. "Whatever you wish." He brings the insect to his own neck, the stinger goign in-out. Hisses, tosses it aside.
As the group nears, they could hear the pained roars of Bryagh.
Liotuse says: ...Company.
Wilhiém says: Familiar.
Liotuse says: It can't fly and it's wounded on the left side. Stay on that side. Abuse it's lack of mobility. Watch the head.
Apophan yells: You will go no closer, BLASPHEMING TRESSPASSERSSS!
Apophan yells: Flee, then, Acolyte.
Apophan slams his scythe to the ground, it burns into the rocks.
Wilhiém says: That.
Wilhiém says: Is a cow.
Apophan says: You've caused my beloved Bryagh much pain... and for that... you will die. You've slain the Hivemother... do you know how long it takes to GROW ONE?!
Liotuse says: A while. Mad bastard, aren't you? Maybe we'll help next time we visit if you hand us our people back.
Apophan says: No matter, I have a surprise for you...
Wilhiém taps his chin. "No, but I would be interested to find out."
Apophan says: An old friend...
Liotuse loads the rifle, cocking the hammer and slinging it onto his bac but instead draws his longswords.
Mayrù reaches out to grip limply at Dyna's wrist, ".... Oh light."
Wilhiém says: ...the penguin is not here, is it?
The broken, twisted and mutilated shell of Strahm steps forward. Lightweight bands of Elementium cover his chest and back.
Liotuse tosses a 'shut up for now' look over his shoulder at Wilhiem.
Stràhm approaches alongside the Apophan. Black sclera-colored eyes stare intently at the trespassers. A smoking rifle is held in both hands across his chest. A chest that is covered with plates of Elementium melded to his skin. "Yes, Sovereign."
Apophan says: Destroy these intruders... I tire of their pathetic mewlings.
Stràhm says: As you command.
Liotuse backpedals, murmering lowly to his group. Perhaps too low for Apophan or Strahm to hear. "Aim to incapacitate. Not kill."
Apophan looks at Strahm.
Wilhiém looks disappointed.
Apophan says: Aim to decapitate.
Wilhiém mimicks the cow with a hand-puppet.
Liotuse flashes Apophan a grin. You just had to catch that didn't you? Lio gives his longswords a whirl in each hand, already trying to spike his adrenaline.
Strahm aims his rifle ahead of him at the group.
Dyna just stares. Her expression does not appear to change, and her hand grips Mayru's, her features strangely flat. More holy energy bristles, forming a haze about her thick red armor.
Liotuse tries to pivot and dart to the left as he sees the end of the rifle his way. All he manages to do is relocate it to the left side of his midsection. His tunic and the metal within it stands no real chance, the round striking deep.
Mayrù 's hand jerks up as the bullet flies, enveloping it in shadows the lessen the damage it would do to it's target.
Apophan chuckles, "I think I will enjoy watching thiss..." he moves over to his other cultists.
Wilhiém winces and spits on the ground. "Fookin' cultists." He re-seals his helm and dashes out, spiked shield in front of him - towards Minion!Strahm.
Liotuse lets himself fall to the side. Laying down would be a bit more comfortable than standing with a bullet wound now. He slips the throwing knife out of his right boot, snapping his wrist to try and catch Strahm low in the leg.
Kamazlek cackles a little gnomish cackle. "Very amusing!"
Dyna releases Mayru and moves forward, bringing her large red blade up as she darts forward and slamming forward with holy judgement, blade glittering with Light.
Stràhm hardly makes a noise as he's impaled, cut, and stabbed with a flying projectile. Still, he stares with a high intensity within his black-clouded eyes at the group.
Strahm vanishes in a sudden crack of electricity. He appears here, then there, and seemingly everywhere at once. But when he finally remains still, both blades are held out, the rifle strapped to his back. ( AOE all roll )
Apophan snarls his flaming eyes widen in abject rage.
Mayrù moves closer to Liotuse, waving her hands forward to soothe his pain with more shadow energy!
Wilhiém throws the shield aside. He hisses, winces, then pulls off hsi gauntlet - bare hand darting for Strahm's throat. He would attempt a drain, simple shadow-sort - if successful, it would significantly weaken the poor... beaten... thing.
Liotuse dips his head in thanks to Mayru, struggling to get to his feet. He doesn't bother picking up his longswords, stumbling into a charge to break for Strahm's right and snap his left leg around in a strike to his kidney. Plating or not, he might be able to feel it.
Dyna's eyes briefly close as she lunges forward, closing the small distance between herself and the thing that used to be her husband. She doesn't hesitate- her sword plunges down for his collar, striking at the throat; holy energy sizzles as she infuses the strike with righteous vengeance.
Apophan says: My creation. Kill them.
Stràhm falters slightly, eyes lidding partially at the battering. The grip on his throat seems to drain him, and the kick to his metal-plated side may have done it, too. Or that oddly weak chop to the collar bone. His attention, however, abruptly and fully shifts to Wilhiem. One of his swords is raised up, and made to cut him vigorously across the chest.
Wilhiém hisses. The drain fills him, mending - the pain mostly negated. The sword slides between the plates, blood gushing out. He falls to his side, grasping, attempting to flimsily heal what he can.
The Door to the Watchers Terrace creaks open.
Apophan turns and his eyes widen... in horror.
Apophan roars with bestial vigor. So fierce!
Mayrù frowns sadly toward Strahm's desecrated body. Shadows swirl around her hand and she lobs a mind blast toward him, fully geared to just disable him.
Team Idle Hands: Garden Wing
Sameal says: Hmmm... So Kama and the dragon weren't enough to slow you down... Impessive.
Nialos says: Oh.
Llew says: You'll be no different.
Nialos says: A ponce.
Nialos says: Lovely.
Oliver says: A gloatin' ponce.
Llew draws his blades, eyes narrowing.
Oliver 's blade is loose on his back. One quick movement and it'll be in his hands. His fingers twitch again.
Sameal says: Ponce? Hmmm. Your names are cute, but I'm afraid M'Lady, the one who just shouted, is correct. You have trespassed upon sacred soil... You will die.
Nialos says: I do that everyday. Still livin'.
Nialos says: ... Sort of.
Oliver spits a vile black substance onto the sand.
Sameal says: Hmm... I'll correct the mistakes of the past then. Let's begin.
Oliver says: Such manners.
Nialos says: A gloating, well-mannered ponce.
Sameal summons a magical barrier and calls forth his Voidwalker.
Nialos says: We are so luc--
Sameal says: You'll be fighting Phankath here... I don't expect much, but don't die too soon... Kill.
Sameal 's minion rushes forward, claws extended.
Llew naturally gets nailed.
Oliver 's blade is swiftly drawn. He plunges it into the demon as it rushes past him toward Llew.
Llew is knocked back into the sand, but thanks to Oliver's hit, is cleared for attack. He rises, shadowstepping to Samael to bury a dagger in his back.
Sameal 's minion cries out, all damage flowing into him as he is banished and the barrier around his master lowers.
Oliver says: Go, Nialos!
Nialos staggers some from the previous blow, but manages to regain his footing rather quickly. He charges forward, leaping up and bringing his blade down in a heavy swing.
Sameal brings up his arm and yells out as the blade sinks itself into his arm and shoulder. "Hmm... perhaps something more... potent..."
Sameal jumps back, repeating the process, but this time a Felguard coming forth.
Sameal 's minion rushes forward, axe raised in a mighty arc at the one who harmed his master.
Nialos brings his blade up to defend, but not in time - the Felguard's axe slices down the Knight's chest, sending him sputtering backwards into the dirt.
Oliver reaches a hand out. A dark energy shoots forward and wraps itself around the demon, pulling it straight to him and onto his outstretched, awaiting blade.
Llew rushes the demon, from the side, sliding at its midsection.
Oliver didn't realize the armor was quite so thick! It prevents any major damage to the demon, and he manages to free it as Llew rushes its side.
Nialos rolls back into a stand, hurling a sickening coil towards the demon.
Sameal 's minion is about to bring his axe down on the creature slashing at his midsection but stops as he's hit by the coil, snarling he instead rushes at the weakest target, the one he attacked earlier...
Nialos bellows and rushes forward, colliding with the demon. He grunts as it lodges his feet into the sand.
Nialos says: Oliver!
Oliver 's eyes flare in rage and he bullrushes the demon, slamming his spiked shoulder into its exposed chest area, to both damage it and knock it back
Llew rolls with his previous swipe, turning as the felguard is shoved backward by Oliver's attack. He lifts his blade in a position that will hopefully drive the demon right onto it.
Haaghun yowls in pain as it is sent back into the Nether, taking Sameal's sheild with it.
Nialos again rushes towards Sameal, aiming to impale the Elf on his blade. However, a bone shield manifests just before impact.
Sameal summons forth his fel armor, it absorbing a bit of the blow but himself taking a good portion of the hit. He stumbles back, cursing. "You lot... are getting annoying."
Sameal summons forth another shield, and this time calls forth a succubus temptress from the Nether.
Sameal orders the temptress forward. "Distract them... I must prepare..."
Angeth rushes forward, her whip lashing out at the one who had attacker he master last.
Nialos grunts as the whip connects with a shoulder, and he dives out of the way for Oliver. "Take it down, dammit!"
Oliver looks up. The matte black ooze from before has begun to leak from his pores. His eyes widen as Nialos is charged, bringing something of a human expression back to his face. "Light -damn- it!" He charges the succubus with a heavy slash of his blade.
Llew growls, an inhuman sound, and rushes the temptress, swiping his blade at the back of her neck.
Nialos charges forward and goes for a decapitation.
Sameal holds his bleeding arm and shoulder, the pain his minions felt now returned to him... "Damn you... this is not over.... you WILL die...
Sameal calls forth a magic carpet and hops on, leaving a trail of blood on the ground as he flies limply away. "THIS IS NOT OVER!"
Nialos tries to step forward, chuckling. "Oh n-" He grunts, falling to one knee.
Nialos kneels down.
Llew moves quickly over to Nialos, touching his shoulder.
The madness in Oliver's expression fades and he runs to Nialos, sliding down in the sand to his side. His eyes flare and a pulse of unholy energy leaves his hand- a mending death coil.
Nialos 's eyes flare as the energy shoots through him, his wounds suddenly beginning to heal, slowly repairing the damage done.
Anna's drake, Emerzh, roars a challenge to the adventurers
Llew pulls away from the knights, his eyes lifting to the sky.
Nialos 's shoulders roll as the last wound closes, and he rises with a grunt. "... Like I said earlier. Gettin' too old for this." Sighing, he looks at Oliver with a tired expression. "Where to?"
Oliver stands. The black still drips from him. It looks... rather unpleasant.
Oliver says: Forward.
Oliver says: We ready?
Llew frowns.
Oliver says: Don't answer that.
Nialos says: Too bad.
Nialos says: Ready as we'll ever be.
Oliver says: Good.
Oliver says: ... We're bein' watched.
Rulkan's body appears to be incased entirely in a thick layer of ice. As the denouncers move forward, large cracks form in the barrier before the entire casing shatters. Rulkan's eyes open slowly allowing a blue glow to shine through his helm.
As Rulkan stands, the water from the pool in the center of the area, overflows, harming none, but settling just below the knees on the dead orc and the others.
Nialos says: ... Damn.
Nialos says: The one time we need a Paladin.
Oliver wrinkles his nose, lifting one foot and stepping back. The black dripping from him pools of the water's surface and separates like oil.
Rulkan lets out a hearty chuckle.
Nialos steps back, settling in a defensive stance. "Well. This should be interesting."
Llew sometimes curses his leathers. This is one of those times.
Water shoots upward out of the pond of water and arcs off toward the closest denouncer. As the water reaches the target, the particles begin to freeze before attempting to pull them down to their knees.
Nialos does his best to resist, but eventually he succumbs to the pull and falls to his knees. "Sonnuva-"
Oliver can't charge very effectively when he's bogged down by water. Instead, he relaxes, and from his throat and under his armor rise thousands of tiny carrion beetles. They swarm toward Rulkan to devour his delicious dead flesh.
Llew sprints, as nimble in water as he is on land. He rushes Rulkan, aiming a dagger at a gap between the orc's helm and pauldron -- a bit of exposed neck.
Rulkan reaches up as the beetles come to him, ripping his helmet off with a chuckle as black blood dribbles out of his mouth, enjoying the beetles and unflinching as a result of the gash from the dagger.
Rulkan looks forward toward Oliver, a small grin forming on his face before he would rush forward across the water, attempting to bring his mace around to hit the denouncer.
Oliver can't dodge very well, either. He falls back into the water with a loud splash.
Oliver is only further enraged by this. He hates water. An aura of frost forms around him and he scrambles on top of the water, supported by his ice. He charges toward Rulkan, using the slippery ice for more momentum.
Llew uses his turning momentum to fling a throwing star at the back of Rulkan's now helmless head.
Nialos finally manages to break free from the ice's clutch, his blade spearing upwards towards Rulkan's cranial region.
Rulkan stumbles backwards as a result of Oliver's charge, Llew's throwing weapon embedding itself into the stitching across the death knight's neck and Nialos's blade creating a shallow slice across the side of his head.
Rulkan turns around, enraged by the metal stuck in the back of his head and faces Llew.
A blue glow gathers around Rulkan's hand before slowly decending towards the ground. The energy quickly changes into a mixture of frost and ice as the death knight raises his hand to whip out towards the nearest target.
Llew lets out a sharp grunt as the ice whip lashes him across the face. He stumbles back, splashing into the water.
Rulkan chuckles loudly.
Oliver takes advantage of Rulkan's back being turned. He again charges, and his beetles swarm down with him, a combined charge of blade and swarm.
Llew rises from the water in a rage, half-blinded by the blood in his eyes. He rushes Rulkan again, swiping his main blade at the orc's head.
Nialos; blade flashes red, producing a second, floating copy. Charging forwards, the blades stand primed to skewer up through Rulkan's armpits.
Rulkan 's muscle tense up and weaken as the beetles flow into his body, Oliver's blade making a clean cut through the weakness in the back of his plate armor, barley poking through the other side. He doesn't even seem to pay attention to the other two attacks.
Khaelanna yells: Look within yourself and feel the pain that only the Gods can bring! Turn from your unholy worship of insubstantial "light" and take up the ways of the TRUE GODS of Azeroth, awesome creators of the very soil you walk upon!
Rulkan takes a step forward, pulling Oliver's sword out slightly before twisting around to slam the tip of his spiked pummel towards Oliver's neck.
Rulkan yells: You dare touch me!? You have no earned the right to even look upon me alliance scum!
Llew roars at the sight of Oliver being run through. He leaps at Rulkan's back, bringing his dagger down toward the back of his neck.
Nialos' second runeblade begins to flicker, but maintains its presence. Desperate, he aims both blades towards Rulkan's forehead. "Just. DIE."
Rulkan 's head jolts backwards as Oliver's sword pushes directly through Rulkan's neck. Black blood bubbles and gushes out of the wound instantly, though the orc does not appear to show the appropriate pain. Nialos' sword's sliding on either side of his mohawk as Llew's dagger lands in his neck. Rulkan growls loudly, regretting the decision he is about to make.
Rulkan falls to his knees, looking up at Oliver with a smirk as his palm lays flat against the ground.
Rulkan's right knee falls to the ground as both of his palms press firmly against the soil. His fingers curl into the dirt before he stands up, causing a large shard of ice to shoot out of the ground toward a denouncer.
Llew lets out a roar as Oliver goes down, and leaps onto Rulkan's back to drive his other dagger into the orc's back.
Llew yells: Come back here, you crazy bitch!
Rulkan collapses against the ground, all of the water in the area receding seemingly into the death knight, who's body begins to ice over again.
Oliver goes rigid as the ice spike rails straight through his body. He collapses over the spike, the black ooze travelling down it into the water. His hands grasp feebly at it, but he can't make his fingers work.
Llew rushes to Oliver, looking to Nialos. "Pull him off!"
Nialos does as he's told, holding the other Death Knight over his shoulder. "Damn it all..."
Nialos says: C'mon... away from... from -that-.
Llew helps as much as he can. "Shit . . ."
Nialos shuffles off towards the sand waaaaay over there, carrying Oliver with him. "... I'll do what I can."
Oliver is lifted from the spike. The wound is huge- straight through his midsection is a hole that leads the entire way through. He doesn't seem bothered, if there's pain, but his muscles tense and loosen beyond his control.
Nialos gently lays Oliver down, a palm immediately finding itself over the other Death Knight's chest. "This... is going to be tough."
Llew watches, helpless.
Oliver lifts a hand. He waves it almost mindlessly in the direction they need to be headed before it falls back to his side. His back arches as his muscles stiffen again.
Nialos' blade begins to glow a dull red, which pours through his arm and into Oliver. "Stow it, Oliver. I can do this much..."
Oliver's swarm spills out from his wound, covering the ground around the three. Despite their nature, they don't bite. The flesh glows an unholy red as it knits, but it's not much- the wound is still a gaping mess. Just a smaller mess.
Nialos relents, drawing his hand back. "That's as much as I can do for now without draining my reserves."
Oliver says: G-go.
Oliver says: She's dying. Please-
Llew says: We aren't leaving you here!
Nialos taps Oliver's forehead, and proceeds to lift the man up. "Damn straight. Come on."
Llew says: C'mon, Oliver. We need you there. -She- needs you.
Nialos says: Yep. Think of it like this; you now get a rest. Cheer us on.
Oliver tries to struggle, but his upper and lower body don't seem to be communicating quite right. He's lifted, and resigns to using what energy he has to support himself.
Nialos says: Right. Llew. Lead the way.
Nialos says: Hope you don't mind the bumpy ride!
Oliver says: Fngh.
Llew pauses, peering around.
Apophan has Senkha in a magical cocoon floating next to him.
Marìus says: .. Heliorn's forces are holding-- but only barely.
Llew pauses, jaw tightening as Senkha comes into view. He glared at Apophan, rage building. So many bad memories.
Nialos glances back, blinking. "... Marius?"
Marìus rolls his shoulders.
Marìus says: -We have work to do.
Nialos says: Damn straight we do.
Nialos sets Oliver down. "We're down a man here."
Oliver looks up at the stairs and the dais behind them. He then sees Senkha. His eyes flare and he struggles in Nialos' grip- and yay, he's set down!
Marìus says: -Keep him out of the immediate line of fire.
Apophan yells: CHOSEN! MY APPRENTICE! FEED THEM THEIR ENTRAILS FOR DESECRATING THIS HALLOWED GROUND!
Llew yells: I'll have your fucking tongue as a belt, you monster!
Drathnor yells: As you wish. The gods bless my axe this day!
Nialos yells: The gods don't bless a thing. I'm taking my daughter back!
Oliver flops over like a dead fish. He snarls in an almost inhuman manner and tries to push himself up.
Wilhiém says: WHo the -fuck- put your ass in charge?
Apophan yells: Drathnor... Ash'kira n'k-k-ki RAH
Marìus says: ... Nice to see you, Will.
Wilhiém winks, grins, finger-guns.
Apophan yells: Your daughter belongs to the Will of a most holy group...
Apophan yells: INQUISITOR!
Nialos yells: Bullshit it does!
Liotuse glances over, blinking to Marius. It's Lio with two knives, longswords and a rifle. "How's it going O fearless leader?"
Drathnor yells: You shall rue the day you steeped foot upon these Holy grounds!
Apophan yells: END THIS FARCE!
Marìus yells: -Words, and only words. Be silent, all of you. Focus.
As they turn toward the dais, goal in sight, a large, dark, spider-like form drops to the stairs, blocking access. The Lord-Inquisitor Anna d'Khael, Hand of Shad'ra, raises an arm and thrumming arcane swirls around her.
Nialos drops into a combat-ready stance. "Right."
Llew draws his blades and narrows his eyes.
Nialos says: Oh.
Llew says: You'll be no different.
Nialos says: A ponce.
Nialos says: Lovely.
Oliver says: A gloatin' ponce.
Llew draws his blades, eyes narrowing.
Oliver 's blade is loose on his back. One quick movement and it'll be in his hands. His fingers twitch again.
Sameal says: Ponce? Hmmm. Your names are cute, but I'm afraid M'Lady, the one who just shouted, is correct. You have trespassed upon sacred soil... You will die.
Nialos says: I do that everyday. Still livin'.
Nialos says: ... Sort of.
Oliver spits a vile black substance onto the sand.
Sameal says: Hmm... I'll correct the mistakes of the past then. Let's begin.
Oliver says: Such manners.
Nialos says: A gloating, well-mannered ponce.
Sameal summons a magical barrier and calls forth his Voidwalker.
Nialos says: We are so luc--
Sameal says: You'll be fighting Phankath here... I don't expect much, but don't die too soon... Kill.
Sameal 's minion rushes forward, claws extended.
Llew naturally gets nailed.
Oliver 's blade is swiftly drawn. He plunges it into the demon as it rushes past him toward Llew.
Llew is knocked back into the sand, but thanks to Oliver's hit, is cleared for attack. He rises, shadowstepping to Samael to bury a dagger in his back.
Sameal 's minion cries out, all damage flowing into him as he is banished and the barrier around his master lowers.
Oliver says: Go, Nialos!
Nialos staggers some from the previous blow, but manages to regain his footing rather quickly. He charges forward, leaping up and bringing his blade down in a heavy swing.
Sameal brings up his arm and yells out as the blade sinks itself into his arm and shoulder. "Hmm... perhaps something more... potent..."
Sameal jumps back, repeating the process, but this time a Felguard coming forth.
Sameal 's minion rushes forward, axe raised in a mighty arc at the one who harmed his master.
Nialos brings his blade up to defend, but not in time - the Felguard's axe slices down the Knight's chest, sending him sputtering backwards into the dirt.
Oliver reaches a hand out. A dark energy shoots forward and wraps itself around the demon, pulling it straight to him and onto his outstretched, awaiting blade.
Llew rushes the demon, from the side, sliding at its midsection.
Oliver didn't realize the armor was quite so thick! It prevents any major damage to the demon, and he manages to free it as Llew rushes its side.
Nialos rolls back into a stand, hurling a sickening coil towards the demon.
Sameal 's minion is about to bring his axe down on the creature slashing at his midsection but stops as he's hit by the coil, snarling he instead rushes at the weakest target, the one he attacked earlier...
Nialos bellows and rushes forward, colliding with the demon. He grunts as it lodges his feet into the sand.
Nialos says: Oliver!
Oliver 's eyes flare in rage and he bullrushes the demon, slamming his spiked shoulder into its exposed chest area, to both damage it and knock it back
Llew rolls with his previous swipe, turning as the felguard is shoved backward by Oliver's attack. He lifts his blade in a position that will hopefully drive the demon right onto it.
Haaghun yowls in pain as it is sent back into the Nether, taking Sameal's sheild with it.
Nialos again rushes towards Sameal, aiming to impale the Elf on his blade. However, a bone shield manifests just before impact.
Sameal summons forth his fel armor, it absorbing a bit of the blow but himself taking a good portion of the hit. He stumbles back, cursing. "You lot... are getting annoying."
Sameal summons forth another shield, and this time calls forth a succubus temptress from the Nether.
Sameal orders the temptress forward. "Distract them... I must prepare..."
Angeth rushes forward, her whip lashing out at the one who had attacker he master last.
Nialos grunts as the whip connects with a shoulder, and he dives out of the way for Oliver. "Take it down, dammit!"
Oliver looks up. The matte black ooze from before has begun to leak from his pores. His eyes widen as Nialos is charged, bringing something of a human expression back to his face. "Light -damn- it!" He charges the succubus with a heavy slash of his blade.
Llew growls, an inhuman sound, and rushes the temptress, swiping his blade at the back of her neck.
Nialos charges forward and goes for a decapitation.
Sameal holds his bleeding arm and shoulder, the pain his minions felt now returned to him... "Damn you... this is not over.... you WILL die...
Sameal calls forth a magic carpet and hops on, leaving a trail of blood on the ground as he flies limply away. "THIS IS NOT OVER!"
Nialos tries to step forward, chuckling. "Oh n-" He grunts, falling to one knee.
Nialos kneels down.
Llew moves quickly over to Nialos, touching his shoulder.
The madness in Oliver's expression fades and he runs to Nialos, sliding down in the sand to his side. His eyes flare and a pulse of unholy energy leaves his hand- a mending death coil.
Nialos 's eyes flare as the energy shoots through him, his wounds suddenly beginning to heal, slowly repairing the damage done.
Anna's drake, Emerzh, roars a challenge to the adventurers
Llew pulls away from the knights, his eyes lifting to the sky.
Nialos 's shoulders roll as the last wound closes, and he rises with a grunt. "... Like I said earlier. Gettin' too old for this." Sighing, he looks at Oliver with a tired expression. "Where to?"
Oliver stands. The black still drips from him. It looks... rather unpleasant.
Oliver says: Forward.
Oliver says: We ready?
Llew frowns.
Oliver says: Don't answer that.
Nialos says: Too bad.
Nialos says: Ready as we'll ever be.
Oliver says: Good.
Oliver says: ... We're bein' watched.
Rulkan's body appears to be incased entirely in a thick layer of ice. As the denouncers move forward, large cracks form in the barrier before the entire casing shatters. Rulkan's eyes open slowly allowing a blue glow to shine through his helm.
As Rulkan stands, the water from the pool in the center of the area, overflows, harming none, but settling just below the knees on the dead orc and the others.
Nialos says: ... Damn.
Nialos says: The one time we need a Paladin.
Oliver wrinkles his nose, lifting one foot and stepping back. The black dripping from him pools of the water's surface and separates like oil.
Rulkan lets out a hearty chuckle.
Nialos steps back, settling in a defensive stance. "Well. This should be interesting."
Llew sometimes curses his leathers. This is one of those times.
Water shoots upward out of the pond of water and arcs off toward the closest denouncer. As the water reaches the target, the particles begin to freeze before attempting to pull them down to their knees.
Nialos does his best to resist, but eventually he succumbs to the pull and falls to his knees. "Sonnuva-"
Oliver can't charge very effectively when he's bogged down by water. Instead, he relaxes, and from his throat and under his armor rise thousands of tiny carrion beetles. They swarm toward Rulkan to devour his delicious dead flesh.
Llew sprints, as nimble in water as he is on land. He rushes Rulkan, aiming a dagger at a gap between the orc's helm and pauldron -- a bit of exposed neck.
Rulkan reaches up as the beetles come to him, ripping his helmet off with a chuckle as black blood dribbles out of his mouth, enjoying the beetles and unflinching as a result of the gash from the dagger.
Rulkan looks forward toward Oliver, a small grin forming on his face before he would rush forward across the water, attempting to bring his mace around to hit the denouncer.
Oliver can't dodge very well, either. He falls back into the water with a loud splash.
Oliver is only further enraged by this. He hates water. An aura of frost forms around him and he scrambles on top of the water, supported by his ice. He charges toward Rulkan, using the slippery ice for more momentum.
Llew uses his turning momentum to fling a throwing star at the back of Rulkan's now helmless head.
Nialos finally manages to break free from the ice's clutch, his blade spearing upwards towards Rulkan's cranial region.
Rulkan stumbles backwards as a result of Oliver's charge, Llew's throwing weapon embedding itself into the stitching across the death knight's neck and Nialos's blade creating a shallow slice across the side of his head.
Rulkan turns around, enraged by the metal stuck in the back of his head and faces Llew.
A blue glow gathers around Rulkan's hand before slowly decending towards the ground. The energy quickly changes into a mixture of frost and ice as the death knight raises his hand to whip out towards the nearest target.
Llew lets out a sharp grunt as the ice whip lashes him across the face. He stumbles back, splashing into the water.
Rulkan chuckles loudly.
Oliver takes advantage of Rulkan's back being turned. He again charges, and his beetles swarm down with him, a combined charge of blade and swarm.
Llew rises from the water in a rage, half-blinded by the blood in his eyes. He rushes Rulkan again, swiping his main blade at the orc's head.
Nialos; blade flashes red, producing a second, floating copy. Charging forwards, the blades stand primed to skewer up through Rulkan's armpits.
Rulkan 's muscle tense up and weaken as the beetles flow into his body, Oliver's blade making a clean cut through the weakness in the back of his plate armor, barley poking through the other side. He doesn't even seem to pay attention to the other two attacks.
Khaelanna yells: Look within yourself and feel the pain that only the Gods can bring! Turn from your unholy worship of insubstantial "light" and take up the ways of the TRUE GODS of Azeroth, awesome creators of the very soil you walk upon!
Rulkan takes a step forward, pulling Oliver's sword out slightly before twisting around to slam the tip of his spiked pummel towards Oliver's neck.
Rulkan yells: You dare touch me!? You have no earned the right to even look upon me alliance scum!
Llew roars at the sight of Oliver being run through. He leaps at Rulkan's back, bringing his dagger down toward the back of his neck.
Nialos' second runeblade begins to flicker, but maintains its presence. Desperate, he aims both blades towards Rulkan's forehead. "Just. DIE."
Rulkan 's head jolts backwards as Oliver's sword pushes directly through Rulkan's neck. Black blood bubbles and gushes out of the wound instantly, though the orc does not appear to show the appropriate pain. Nialos' sword's sliding on either side of his mohawk as Llew's dagger lands in his neck. Rulkan growls loudly, regretting the decision he is about to make.
Rulkan falls to his knees, looking up at Oliver with a smirk as his palm lays flat against the ground.
Rulkan's right knee falls to the ground as both of his palms press firmly against the soil. His fingers curl into the dirt before he stands up, causing a large shard of ice to shoot out of the ground toward a denouncer.
Llew lets out a roar as Oliver goes down, and leaps onto Rulkan's back to drive his other dagger into the orc's back.
Llew yells: Come back here, you crazy bitch!
Rulkan collapses against the ground, all of the water in the area receding seemingly into the death knight, who's body begins to ice over again.
Oliver goes rigid as the ice spike rails straight through his body. He collapses over the spike, the black ooze travelling down it into the water. His hands grasp feebly at it, but he can't make his fingers work.
Llew rushes to Oliver, looking to Nialos. "Pull him off!"
Nialos does as he's told, holding the other Death Knight over his shoulder. "Damn it all..."
Nialos says: C'mon... away from... from -that-.
Llew helps as much as he can. "Shit . . ."
Nialos shuffles off towards the sand waaaaay over there, carrying Oliver with him. "... I'll do what I can."
Oliver is lifted from the spike. The wound is huge- straight through his midsection is a hole that leads the entire way through. He doesn't seem bothered, if there's pain, but his muscles tense and loosen beyond his control.
Nialos gently lays Oliver down, a palm immediately finding itself over the other Death Knight's chest. "This... is going to be tough."
Llew watches, helpless.
Oliver lifts a hand. He waves it almost mindlessly in the direction they need to be headed before it falls back to his side. His back arches as his muscles stiffen again.
Nialos' blade begins to glow a dull red, which pours through his arm and into Oliver. "Stow it, Oliver. I can do this much..."
Oliver's swarm spills out from his wound, covering the ground around the three. Despite their nature, they don't bite. The flesh glows an unholy red as it knits, but it's not much- the wound is still a gaping mess. Just a smaller mess.
Nialos relents, drawing his hand back. "That's as much as I can do for now without draining my reserves."
Oliver says: G-go.
Oliver says: She's dying. Please-
Llew says: We aren't leaving you here!
Nialos taps Oliver's forehead, and proceeds to lift the man up. "Damn straight. Come on."
Llew says: C'mon, Oliver. We need you there. -She- needs you.
Nialos says: Yep. Think of it like this; you now get a rest. Cheer us on.
Oliver tries to struggle, but his upper and lower body don't seem to be communicating quite right. He's lifted, and resigns to using what energy he has to support himself.
Nialos says: Right. Llew. Lead the way.
Nialos says: Hope you don't mind the bumpy ride!
Oliver says: Fngh.
Llew pauses, peering around.
Apophan has Senkha in a magical cocoon floating next to him.
Marìus says: .. Heliorn's forces are holding-- but only barely.
Llew pauses, jaw tightening as Senkha comes into view. He glared at Apophan, rage building. So many bad memories.
Nialos glances back, blinking. "... Marius?"
Marìus rolls his shoulders.
Marìus says: -We have work to do.
Nialos says: Damn straight we do.
Nialos sets Oliver down. "We're down a man here."
Oliver looks up at the stairs and the dais behind them. He then sees Senkha. His eyes flare and he struggles in Nialos' grip- and yay, he's set down!
Marìus says: -Keep him out of the immediate line of fire.
Apophan yells: CHOSEN! MY APPRENTICE! FEED THEM THEIR ENTRAILS FOR DESECRATING THIS HALLOWED GROUND!
Llew yells: I'll have your fucking tongue as a belt, you monster!
Drathnor yells: As you wish. The gods bless my axe this day!
Nialos yells: The gods don't bless a thing. I'm taking my daughter back!
Oliver flops over like a dead fish. He snarls in an almost inhuman manner and tries to push himself up.
Wilhiém says: WHo the -fuck- put your ass in charge?
Apophan yells: Drathnor... Ash'kira n'k-k-ki RAH
Marìus says: ... Nice to see you, Will.
Wilhiém winks, grins, finger-guns.
Apophan yells: Your daughter belongs to the Will of a most holy group...
Apophan yells: INQUISITOR!
Nialos yells: Bullshit it does!
Liotuse glances over, blinking to Marius. It's Lio with two knives, longswords and a rifle. "How's it going O fearless leader?"
Drathnor yells: You shall rue the day you steeped foot upon these Holy grounds!
Apophan yells: END THIS FARCE!
Marìus yells: -Words, and only words. Be silent, all of you. Focus.
As they turn toward the dais, goal in sight, a large, dark, spider-like form drops to the stairs, blocking access. The Lord-Inquisitor Anna d'Khael, Hand of Shad'ra, raises an arm and thrumming arcane swirls around her.
Nialos drops into a combat-ready stance. "Right."
Llew draws his blades and narrows his eyes.
Khaelanna vs. Team Idle Hands
Khaelanna yells: [Qiraji] "Kh'shab ahpt ras'zuj! T katc tajh m'rh ni'cht s'k m'jh H'satl SHAD'RA!!"
Apophan yells: Come to meet your end, Denouncers.
The ground beneath their feet begins to seethe and writhe. From under the sands crawl thousands of small spiders, creeping into pants legs and sleeves, causing irritation, discomfort, and distraction.
Llew stumbles back a bit as all the bugs come forth. "What th---"
Nialos doesn't seem all that bothered by the bugs, but his eye twitches. "...Annoying."
Oliver tries to push himself up again as bugs swarm around his body. His muscles stiffen and he almost collapses, but something drives him. He climbs to his feet and staggers to the others.
Nialos immediately sends a shard of ice towards the giant spider. Going straight for the -eyes-.
Marìus lofts his hands. A soft shudder rattles through his bones; The creation of an imprint, reaching into the flesh of his allies and establishing a mender's connection. He's prepared to mitigate incoming damage.
Llew rushes the Black Widow, following the ice shards, throwing star slicking through the air toward her abdomen.
Oliver steps forward. He has a hard time of it still. Instead, his swarm collects itself and flies to Khaelanna, the cloud of flesheaters getting their fill today.
Khaelanna raises one arm. A steaming fissure opens at Llew 's feet and from it a purple blast of searing Twilight magic issues forth, forcing the attacker back a step and carrying the possibility of serious damage if they don't move quickly enough.
Marìus honestly loves spiders. He really does. At the moment, however? Not quite. There's a shiver in the back of his mind-- An ethereal warning, in fact. The Sigil and allied comrades managing the distraction 'outside' are under *heavy fire.*
Llew is a slick rogue and darts out of the way!
Nialos runs forwards, hacking at spidery legs and whatnot in wild abandon.
Oliver hunches over. Bleeds more. He snarls and straightens out again, fists clenched, trying to get a grip of his movement.
Marìus thrusts out one arm. Narrows his eyes. "Oliver-- Goddess-bless, don't give up. One foot at a time. Manage your hatred and prepare."
Llew follows Nialos, sprinting at the Black Widow. He lets out a roar, his own eyes flashing dark as he thrusts at her abdomen with his main blade.
Nialos calls out over his shoulder. "Oliver! Your rotten ass is not allowed to drop!"
Oliver laughs. And then charges. He can't swing his blade effectively so he resorts to body attacks. He's an effective blunt weapon. He slams his plagued body into the Widow.
Ariadine nervously drums her fingers against the side of her leg. At the sight of Marius and Oliver she slips back into the crowd of somber and silent cultists.
Khaelanna raises both arms and shards of ice drop in rapid succession upon the group, dangerous sharp projectiles piercing anything not protected.
This is another one of those moments that Llew curses his simple leather armor.
Nialos dodges around the falling ice shards, moving his blade to hack at the main body.
Marìus all but -leaps- to one side. He's fast to loft his hands-- Raise barrier, shielding, against the onslaught. But Llew-- *Shit*.
Llew finds himself pummeled with shards of ice. He hunkers down, trying to deflect them to no avail. Rising, his already bloodied face now more bloody, he rushes forward in a rage, once again shoving his main blade at the Widow's midsection.
Marìus' talons crook, outstretched. Mending leaps to his fingertips, cast for their burdened ally.
Oliver allows the shards to penetrate into him. Whatever madness drives him, he moves as though possessed, not caring as ice hails down onto him. He raises a blighted fist and tries to punch her in the face.
Khaelanna has a bloody lip.
The air above their heads crackles and sparkles as it heats. An acrid scent of burning ozone permeates the area. An orange ball of flame coalesces… pulsing and glowing. Orange, black and purple tendrils of Twilight Flame explode with a hiss from its surface. The air around their bodies erupts in burning Twilight Flame. The searing tendrils injure and inhibit all but the most agile fighter. Can you move fast enough to survive?
Llew draws back, wiping the blood from his face. Agile yet -- yay rogue tank -- he manages to avoid being crisped.
Nialos finds himself shielded by a glowing mass of runic green, absorbing the Twilight Flames. He summons his runeblade yet again, and begins to hack in a frenzy at the giant freaking spider.
Marìus finds himself lunging through agitated sand a second time, ignoring the grotesque little spiders that still chew tiny holes through bare, unfortunate skin. A duo of them skitter into his mouth as he gasps-- and he bites into their delicate bodies, swallowing the refuse, closing his eyes to channel another mender's spell.
Oliver is an angry, shambling zombie right now. No, he's not going to dodge attacks. He's going to eat them. In the face.
Llew moves in quickly once again, slicing at Anna's midsection to keep her focus on him. He drives his blade, intent on tearing her open.
Focus regained, splayed hands clap together. Energy shifts. Marius threads the essence of renew between his allies. Who was...? *There*.
Khaelanna deflects part of the attack.
Oliver charges forward at her again. A horrible, black, corrosive substance leaks from anywhere something can leak from, and a choking gas rises from his throat. He's not thinking, but he's quite caustic.
Khaelanna throws a shimmering cloak over herself and vanishes from view, emerging behind Llew and rapidly shooting a small Fireball toward them. It hisses with near-solar heat as it boils forth, seeking flesh.
Llew apparently can dodge a rear attack.
Oliver turns as she blinks behind them.
Nialos whips around, snarling. "Tricky bitch..."
Nialos lunges forward, plague encasing his blade as it speeds towards the spider's abdoman.
Llew turns, flinging another throwing star aimed at Anna's throat.
Her position shifts. Marius' eyes follow the spideress as she moves behind Llew. It's an opportunity to lunge-- and he takes it. Claws, brutal, extend. He charges with a hard, blunt edge to his motions: And ever 'graceful' (hah) - does the only thing he's made for in close-quarters. Attempting to body-check her like a four-hundred-pound train.
Khaelanna glares angrily at Oliver.
Apophan yells: *As the final line of defense begins to crumble, a bolt of lightning slams into Anna d'Khael and Drathnor. Energizing them for whatever their final attacks shall be*
Oliver gives a low laugh. "Ah w-wonder ha' many bodies you-" He's interrupted as he retches up more black. So instead he casts. Tendrils of unholy reach into the ground to pull up what they can- apparently there's something, because one old weatherbeaten corpse rises. Oliver falls to his knees from the effort of the cast. His minion attacks.
Below their feet the ground near the mage begins to glow with blinding Twilight power, drawing life from those remaining within it. If caught within Neptulon's Fist you will feel your arms and legs turn frigid and your heart slow, as cold grips you. As their hearts slow, they feel fear grip them: they -must- break loose or the Fist might drag you into Death's domain! Only the most determined of fighter possesses the will to escape its penetrating grasp!
Llew leaps away at the last second, but is still knocked off his feet and hits the sand.
Oliver can't really avoid much. He's gripped. Thankfully, he's already dead and doesn't seem too bothered by the paralytic cold.
Nialos rages forth from the icy tomb, breaking off shards of ice, his eyes glaring daggers at the spider. His blade swings in a massive arc, aiming for legs, chest, anything.
Llew rises from the sand, sprinting forth with the intent to bodycheck Anna back into the dirt.
Marìus' better powers turn inwards. Focus-- Soft light. Oliver, goddess-bless: GET BACK ON YOUR FEET-! The spell is flung and cast, meant to energize his brutally savaged wounds.
Oliver is on his back. He can't move. He can hardly think. But now he's energized. He reels around to face Khaelanna. "YOU COME T' ME." He shoots out a death grip, pulling her to where he's locked in place and sends another plated fist into the side of her head.
Apophan yells: SHSSSSRRRARAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
"Darkness will consume you and all Denouncers! You will fail and never see daylight again! The Gods have returned and the destruction of your world is imminent! For me and the Faithful, we choose ASCENDANCY!!" Khaelanna laughs at Oliver.
Oliver retches black again. His entire body is shaking.
Nialos says: Oliver. Hold it together.
Wilhiém 's eyes roll back as he coughs, spits, and lets out obscenities.
Nialos says: We're almost done.
Apophan yells: Come to meet your end, Denouncers.
The ground beneath their feet begins to seethe and writhe. From under the sands crawl thousands of small spiders, creeping into pants legs and sleeves, causing irritation, discomfort, and distraction.
Llew stumbles back a bit as all the bugs come forth. "What th---"
Nialos doesn't seem all that bothered by the bugs, but his eye twitches. "...Annoying."
Oliver tries to push himself up again as bugs swarm around his body. His muscles stiffen and he almost collapses, but something drives him. He climbs to his feet and staggers to the others.
Nialos immediately sends a shard of ice towards the giant spider. Going straight for the -eyes-.
Marìus lofts his hands. A soft shudder rattles through his bones; The creation of an imprint, reaching into the flesh of his allies and establishing a mender's connection. He's prepared to mitigate incoming damage.
Llew rushes the Black Widow, following the ice shards, throwing star slicking through the air toward her abdomen.
Oliver steps forward. He has a hard time of it still. Instead, his swarm collects itself and flies to Khaelanna, the cloud of flesheaters getting their fill today.
Khaelanna raises one arm. A steaming fissure opens at Llew 's feet and from it a purple blast of searing Twilight magic issues forth, forcing the attacker back a step and carrying the possibility of serious damage if they don't move quickly enough.
Marìus honestly loves spiders. He really does. At the moment, however? Not quite. There's a shiver in the back of his mind-- An ethereal warning, in fact. The Sigil and allied comrades managing the distraction 'outside' are under *heavy fire.*
Llew is a slick rogue and darts out of the way!
Nialos runs forwards, hacking at spidery legs and whatnot in wild abandon.
Oliver hunches over. Bleeds more. He snarls and straightens out again, fists clenched, trying to get a grip of his movement.
Marìus thrusts out one arm. Narrows his eyes. "Oliver-- Goddess-bless, don't give up. One foot at a time. Manage your hatred and prepare."
Llew follows Nialos, sprinting at the Black Widow. He lets out a roar, his own eyes flashing dark as he thrusts at her abdomen with his main blade.
Nialos calls out over his shoulder. "Oliver! Your rotten ass is not allowed to drop!"
Oliver laughs. And then charges. He can't swing his blade effectively so he resorts to body attacks. He's an effective blunt weapon. He slams his plagued body into the Widow.
Ariadine nervously drums her fingers against the side of her leg. At the sight of Marius and Oliver she slips back into the crowd of somber and silent cultists.
Khaelanna raises both arms and shards of ice drop in rapid succession upon the group, dangerous sharp projectiles piercing anything not protected.
This is another one of those moments that Llew curses his simple leather armor.
Nialos dodges around the falling ice shards, moving his blade to hack at the main body.
Marìus all but -leaps- to one side. He's fast to loft his hands-- Raise barrier, shielding, against the onslaught. But Llew-- *Shit*.
Llew finds himself pummeled with shards of ice. He hunkers down, trying to deflect them to no avail. Rising, his already bloodied face now more bloody, he rushes forward in a rage, once again shoving his main blade at the Widow's midsection.
Marìus' talons crook, outstretched. Mending leaps to his fingertips, cast for their burdened ally.
Oliver allows the shards to penetrate into him. Whatever madness drives him, he moves as though possessed, not caring as ice hails down onto him. He raises a blighted fist and tries to punch her in the face.
Khaelanna has a bloody lip.
The air above their heads crackles and sparkles as it heats. An acrid scent of burning ozone permeates the area. An orange ball of flame coalesces… pulsing and glowing. Orange, black and purple tendrils of Twilight Flame explode with a hiss from its surface. The air around their bodies erupts in burning Twilight Flame. The searing tendrils injure and inhibit all but the most agile fighter. Can you move fast enough to survive?
Llew draws back, wiping the blood from his face. Agile yet -- yay rogue tank -- he manages to avoid being crisped.
Nialos finds himself shielded by a glowing mass of runic green, absorbing the Twilight Flames. He summons his runeblade yet again, and begins to hack in a frenzy at the giant freaking spider.
Marìus finds himself lunging through agitated sand a second time, ignoring the grotesque little spiders that still chew tiny holes through bare, unfortunate skin. A duo of them skitter into his mouth as he gasps-- and he bites into their delicate bodies, swallowing the refuse, closing his eyes to channel another mender's spell.
Oliver is an angry, shambling zombie right now. No, he's not going to dodge attacks. He's going to eat them. In the face.
Llew moves in quickly once again, slicing at Anna's midsection to keep her focus on him. He drives his blade, intent on tearing her open.
Focus regained, splayed hands clap together. Energy shifts. Marius threads the essence of renew between his allies. Who was...? *There*.
Khaelanna deflects part of the attack.
Oliver charges forward at her again. A horrible, black, corrosive substance leaks from anywhere something can leak from, and a choking gas rises from his throat. He's not thinking, but he's quite caustic.
Khaelanna throws a shimmering cloak over herself and vanishes from view, emerging behind Llew and rapidly shooting a small Fireball toward them. It hisses with near-solar heat as it boils forth, seeking flesh.
Llew apparently can dodge a rear attack.
Oliver turns as she blinks behind them.
Nialos whips around, snarling. "Tricky bitch..."
Nialos lunges forward, plague encasing his blade as it speeds towards the spider's abdoman.
Llew turns, flinging another throwing star aimed at Anna's throat.
Her position shifts. Marius' eyes follow the spideress as she moves behind Llew. It's an opportunity to lunge-- and he takes it. Claws, brutal, extend. He charges with a hard, blunt edge to his motions: And ever 'graceful' (hah) - does the only thing he's made for in close-quarters. Attempting to body-check her like a four-hundred-pound train.
Khaelanna glares angrily at Oliver.
Apophan yells: *As the final line of defense begins to crumble, a bolt of lightning slams into Anna d'Khael and Drathnor. Energizing them for whatever their final attacks shall be*
Oliver gives a low laugh. "Ah w-wonder ha' many bodies you-" He's interrupted as he retches up more black. So instead he casts. Tendrils of unholy reach into the ground to pull up what they can- apparently there's something, because one old weatherbeaten corpse rises. Oliver falls to his knees from the effort of the cast. His minion attacks.
Below their feet the ground near the mage begins to glow with blinding Twilight power, drawing life from those remaining within it. If caught within Neptulon's Fist you will feel your arms and legs turn frigid and your heart slow, as cold grips you. As their hearts slow, they feel fear grip them: they -must- break loose or the Fist might drag you into Death's domain! Only the most determined of fighter possesses the will to escape its penetrating grasp!
Llew leaps away at the last second, but is still knocked off his feet and hits the sand.
Oliver can't really avoid much. He's gripped. Thankfully, he's already dead and doesn't seem too bothered by the paralytic cold.
Nialos rages forth from the icy tomb, breaking off shards of ice, his eyes glaring daggers at the spider. His blade swings in a massive arc, aiming for legs, chest, anything.
Llew rises from the sand, sprinting forth with the intent to bodycheck Anna back into the dirt.
Marìus' better powers turn inwards. Focus-- Soft light. Oliver, goddess-bless: GET BACK ON YOUR FEET-! The spell is flung and cast, meant to energize his brutally savaged wounds.
Oliver is on his back. He can't move. He can hardly think. But now he's energized. He reels around to face Khaelanna. "YOU COME T' ME." He shoots out a death grip, pulling her to where he's locked in place and sends another plated fist into the side of her head.
Apophan yells: SHSSSSRRRARAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
"Darkness will consume you and all Denouncers! You will fail and never see daylight again! The Gods have returned and the destruction of your world is imminent! For me and the Faithful, we choose ASCENDANCY!!" Khaelanna laughs at Oliver.
Oliver retches black again. His entire body is shaking.
Nialos says: Oliver. Hold it together.
Wilhiém 's eyes roll back as he coughs, spits, and lets out obscenities.
Nialos says: We're almost done.
Drathnor vs. Team White Sigil
Drathnor yells: As you wish. The gods bless my axe this day!
Nialos yells: The gods don't bless a thing. I'm taking my daughter back!
Apophan yells: Drathnor... Ash'kira n'k-k-ki RAH
Apophan yells: Your daughter belongs to the Will of a most holy group...
Apophan yells: INQUISITOR!
Nialos yells: Bullshit it does!
Drathnor yells: You shall rue the day you steeped foot upon these Holy grounds!
Apophan yells: END THIS FARCE!
Marìus yells: -Words, and only words. Be silent, all of you. Focus.
Khaelanna yells: [Qiraji] "Kh'shab ahpt ras'zuj! T katc tajh m'rh ni'cht s'k m'jh H'satl SHAD'RA!!"
Apophan yells: Come to meet your end, Denouncers.
Drathnor yells: Shroken, Teloran! RIP THEM APART!
Shroken charges forward. The large wolf rushes at Mayru lunging and attempts to tackle and snap his jaws around her neck.
Teloran jumps onto Wilhiem clawing at his face.
Mayrù screams as the wolf pulls her down, her hands buckle under its neck as she tries to push it away.
Liotuse swings around immediately. They need Mayru for healing services and Wilhiem has proven he can stitch himself up. He swings his rifle around, jamming the end of the barrel against the wolf's body and pulling the trigger.
Shroken is shot in the side, as the astral wolf fades out and vanishes.
Mayrù rolls to her side, coughing out a "Th-thank you." She reaches out for Wil, as she see's he's under assault too and channels her soothing shadow energies.
Wilhiém is getting clawed at! He lets out a growl, writhing about on the ground - throwing a fist out, one after another, at the wolf's muzzle with his right hand, shielding away with his left.
Dyna 's sword lifts in defense of Mayru, but- suddenly Liotuse! Her sharp gaze darts between the wolf attacking Wilhiem, and the thing that summoned them. Her eyes narrow and she lunges for Drathnor with holy Judgement at the tip of her sword as she swings down hard toward his arm.
After getting hit in the jaw, Teloran backs up in pain.
Wilhiém scrambles up to his feet, adjusting his nose with an audible crack. Delightful.
Drathnor lifts his hands up into the air a massive wall of fire plummets to the ground and heads straight for Liotuse.
Teloran gets ready for another attack at Wilhiem, grabbing for his arm.
Liotuse turns and - stands his ground. Mayru's sort of behind him, not wanting to avoid the thing. He -screams- as the wind whips and slathers him with magma.
Drathnor says: HAHA! You fool! Feel the power of the gods! Burn in their fires! BURN!
Wilhiém 's arm is pulled, popped, and probably cracked. Ow.
Drathnor laughs at Liotuse.
Liotuse looks like he's been through hell, literally. Fire and lava enjoy his company far too much. He breaks free of the tornado, returning Drathnor's mocking with a savage, bloody grin. He lunges straight for Drathnor's left arm, leading with his brutally sharp knives.
Mayrù pulses out her shadows to sooth the newly recieved magma burns about Lio's body. Her magic then shifts toward Wil to stiffle the pain he's feeling, giving him the boost he needs to keep fighting.
Wilhiém hisses. As he'd imagine, the wolf has locked his jaws about his arm - with the burst of shadow-energy, he throws out teh hooked, rusted sword with his free arm, aiming to -behead- the bothersome thing.
After taking the hit, Teloran drops to the ground in pain.
Dyna's eyes widen as a whirlwind of Magma strikes at Tuse, and she pulls back her sword to throw another Light-infused blow for Drathor; it flies for the arm that was used to burn-the-crap-out-of-Tuse, vengefully.
Drathnor yanks the axe from his back its searing heat can be felt coming off the blade, he swings for Liotuse's chest "YOU DIE UPON THIS FEILD!"
Liotuse gurgles and spits up blood as the mighty axe shears through his reinforced tunic, only managing to pull himself off it and fall onto his back.
Mayrù's up on her feet, shadows arching off of her toward Lio (and Wil XD) "No you don't. You get up."
Wilhiém snaps his arm back with a pop. Pop! He shakes it about, and leaps towards Drathnor, sword out, shield throwd aside as to ease the movement. He aims a horizontal slash at hsi midsection.
Drathnor says: You fools cannot win!
Drathnor Slams his axe into the ground lightning arcs out from the blade towars all those inj his way
Dyna 's lips twist in a snarl as LIotuse goes down like a cheap whore and she lurches forward in a whirlwind of holy energy and rage and stuff and attacks Drathnor with the power of Spanish meltdowns.
Liotuse scrambles to backtrack, his body weak as his elbows slip far too many times in the sand. Trying to get out of the fight and maybe get that deep, open wound seen to. He fumbles to get a round into his rifle, pulling on the hammer and firing the flintlock at Drathnor.
Mayrù focuses on her wounded allies, soothing their pains with shadows and willing their flesh to numb and mend.
Drathnor gasps he looks down at a new wound in his side "you shall pay for that....dearly
Apophan yells: *As the final line of defense begins to crumble, a bolt of lightning slams into Anna d'Khael and Drathnor. Energizing them for whatever their final attacks shall be*
Wilhiém lets out a wail. He's been chopped at, burnt, electrocuted... with the last little tidbit of effort, he puts all of the remaining strength into a throw - and throws his shield out towards the cultist in an ark. DESPERATE MEASURES.
Dyna is into it, now. She darts to the side and aims to cleave the figure in the side as she makes to get behind him for more stabbing.
Liotuse manages to slip another round into the barrel of his firearm. His eyes are distant yet -frenzied-, darkness lurking at the edges of his vision. It's hard to recognize him anymore at this point, nor does he feel much this close to the edge. With an unnerving stare he pulls the trigger, firing once more at Drathnor.
Mayrù cries out as the lightning hits her, shaken she pulses out shadows in an almost aimless torrent -- ohlightpleasenoonedie!
Nialos yells: The gods don't bless a thing. I'm taking my daughter back!
Apophan yells: Drathnor... Ash'kira n'k-k-ki RAH
Apophan yells: Your daughter belongs to the Will of a most holy group...
Apophan yells: INQUISITOR!
Nialos yells: Bullshit it does!
Drathnor yells: You shall rue the day you steeped foot upon these Holy grounds!
Apophan yells: END THIS FARCE!
Marìus yells: -Words, and only words. Be silent, all of you. Focus.
Khaelanna yells: [Qiraji] "Kh'shab ahpt ras'zuj! T katc tajh m'rh ni'cht s'k m'jh H'satl SHAD'RA!!"
Apophan yells: Come to meet your end, Denouncers.
Drathnor yells: Shroken, Teloran! RIP THEM APART!
Shroken charges forward. The large wolf rushes at Mayru lunging and attempts to tackle and snap his jaws around her neck.
Teloran jumps onto Wilhiem clawing at his face.
Mayrù screams as the wolf pulls her down, her hands buckle under its neck as she tries to push it away.
Liotuse swings around immediately. They need Mayru for healing services and Wilhiem has proven he can stitch himself up. He swings his rifle around, jamming the end of the barrel against the wolf's body and pulling the trigger.
Shroken is shot in the side, as the astral wolf fades out and vanishes.
Mayrù rolls to her side, coughing out a "Th-thank you." She reaches out for Wil, as she see's he's under assault too and channels her soothing shadow energies.
Wilhiém is getting clawed at! He lets out a growl, writhing about on the ground - throwing a fist out, one after another, at the wolf's muzzle with his right hand, shielding away with his left.
Dyna 's sword lifts in defense of Mayru, but- suddenly Liotuse! Her sharp gaze darts between the wolf attacking Wilhiem, and the thing that summoned them. Her eyes narrow and she lunges for Drathnor with holy Judgement at the tip of her sword as she swings down hard toward his arm.
After getting hit in the jaw, Teloran backs up in pain.
Wilhiém scrambles up to his feet, adjusting his nose with an audible crack. Delightful.
Drathnor lifts his hands up into the air a massive wall of fire plummets to the ground and heads straight for Liotuse.
Teloran gets ready for another attack at Wilhiem, grabbing for his arm.
Liotuse turns and - stands his ground. Mayru's sort of behind him, not wanting to avoid the thing. He -screams- as the wind whips and slathers him with magma.
Drathnor says: HAHA! You fool! Feel the power of the gods! Burn in their fires! BURN!
Wilhiém 's arm is pulled, popped, and probably cracked. Ow.
Drathnor laughs at Liotuse.
Liotuse looks like he's been through hell, literally. Fire and lava enjoy his company far too much. He breaks free of the tornado, returning Drathnor's mocking with a savage, bloody grin. He lunges straight for Drathnor's left arm, leading with his brutally sharp knives.
Mayrù pulses out her shadows to sooth the newly recieved magma burns about Lio's body. Her magic then shifts toward Wil to stiffle the pain he's feeling, giving him the boost he needs to keep fighting.
Wilhiém hisses. As he'd imagine, the wolf has locked his jaws about his arm - with the burst of shadow-energy, he throws out teh hooked, rusted sword with his free arm, aiming to -behead- the bothersome thing.
After taking the hit, Teloran drops to the ground in pain.
Dyna's eyes widen as a whirlwind of Magma strikes at Tuse, and she pulls back her sword to throw another Light-infused blow for Drathor; it flies for the arm that was used to burn-the-crap-out-of-Tuse, vengefully.
Drathnor yanks the axe from his back its searing heat can be felt coming off the blade, he swings for Liotuse's chest "YOU DIE UPON THIS FEILD!"
Liotuse gurgles and spits up blood as the mighty axe shears through his reinforced tunic, only managing to pull himself off it and fall onto his back.
Mayrù's up on her feet, shadows arching off of her toward Lio (and Wil XD) "No you don't. You get up."
Wilhiém snaps his arm back with a pop. Pop! He shakes it about, and leaps towards Drathnor, sword out, shield throwd aside as to ease the movement. He aims a horizontal slash at hsi midsection.
Drathnor says: You fools cannot win!
Drathnor Slams his axe into the ground lightning arcs out from the blade towars all those inj his way
Dyna 's lips twist in a snarl as LIotuse goes down like a cheap whore and she lurches forward in a whirlwind of holy energy and rage and stuff and attacks Drathnor with the power of Spanish meltdowns.
Liotuse scrambles to backtrack, his body weak as his elbows slip far too many times in the sand. Trying to get out of the fight and maybe get that deep, open wound seen to. He fumbles to get a round into his rifle, pulling on the hammer and firing the flintlock at Drathnor.
Mayrù focuses on her wounded allies, soothing their pains with shadows and willing their flesh to numb and mend.
Drathnor gasps he looks down at a new wound in his side "you shall pay for that....dearly
Apophan yells: *As the final line of defense begins to crumble, a bolt of lightning slams into Anna d'Khael and Drathnor. Energizing them for whatever their final attacks shall be*
Wilhiém lets out a wail. He's been chopped at, burnt, electrocuted... with the last little tidbit of effort, he puts all of the remaining strength into a throw - and throws his shield out towards the cultist in an ark. DESPERATE MEASURES.
Dyna is into it, now. She darts to the side and aims to cleave the figure in the side as she makes to get behind him for more stabbing.
Liotuse manages to slip another round into the barrel of his firearm. His eyes are distant yet -frenzied-, darkness lurking at the edges of his vision. It's hard to recognize him anymore at this point, nor does he feel much this close to the edge. With an unnerving stare he pulls the trigger, firing once more at Drathnor.
Mayrù cries out as the lightning hits her, shaken she pulses out shadows in an almost aimless torrent -- ohlightpleasenoonedie!
Final Battle: Marius vs. Apophan
[Khaelanna falls]
Apophan yells: SHSSSSRRRARAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
Apophan yells: Drathnor, take the Inquisitor from here.
Drathnor yells: As you wish.
Marìus yells: Sigil! Sound off!
Mayrù yells: Lio isn't in good shape! Over here!
Drathnor yells: YOU LUCKY FOOLS! Saved by the soveriegn. You will die!
Odynae yells: Tuse, Mayru, Dyna over here.
Drathnor yells: All of you shall fall before my axe! Stupid sons of bitches....
Apophan yells: You have desecrated thiss ... SACRED GROUND
Apophan yells: You have tresspassed where none who have can be allowed to live.
Marìus yells: And you have taken what is not yours to take. Gods are false, Apophan. Nice to see you again.
Apophan yells: You...
Apophan yells: I will do to you what I should have done in Shattrath or Falconwing Square!
Apophan begins to descende the stairs, lightning whips and lashes around him against the steps. The bolts lash against the walls leaving black trails. As he takes each step, his robes burn and melt away, revealing cracked, flame-covered metal beneath.
Llew remains there, halfway up the stairs, watching the creature.
Apophan looks at Llew, then the other groups.
Llew stares; rage boiling in his eyes. Bloodlust.
Marius' eyes level on Apophan. He's big. Bigger than he remembers, even-- and the energies that crackle 'round his body are not lost on the priest. Marius isn't a stupid man: This is not a fight he'll win on his strength alone.
Liotuse coughs, some blood coming out with it as he cocks the hammer for his rifle, staring up at the sky before getting up onto an elbow to at least look forward.
Apophan doesn't even register the death knight, only the one who leads the Sigil. The one who brought an army to his gates, who's people destroyed his silithid hive.
Dyna stands her ground, expression quite empty. She blinks down at Wilhiem, and offers a noncommital shrug. "- I thought I'd try." She returns her attention to Liotuse, and moves to crouch beside him.
One hoofbeat could break Marius' *spine*. But many are injured-- and the alternatives aren't pretty. What's worse is that the ley he'd prepared to contain him-- to try to contain him-- is gone. It'd fractured beneath the weight of its own design, re-directed in a last-ditch attempt to protect his Sigil back at the Hold. So.
Apophan takes his scythe and slams it into the ground, embedding it as rocks jut around it. Flame and metal course over his hands and elongate.
They've come this far. What now. Marius wets his lips. He feels very, very ordinary and very, very mortal right now.
Wil winces, takes out another adrenaline-shot bug. The stinger goes into his neck, out. Eyes wide and darting, diluted, he does the one thing logical in this situation - he pulls out a notebook and proceeds to take notes.
Liotuse's head cants to the side, gazing at the monster before them. All he can to is wheeze to Dyna, trying for a last attempt at humour. "...He doesn't look so big."
The Sovereign flexes his claws and hunches over, his Saronite tail emerges from behind his robes and snaps open and closed, either a five plated blade, or a spear point. A gift from Salarous.
Marius remarks, "--Sometimes I really do wonder, Apophan, if you were ever a son a mother once loved."
Apophan responds, "My mother iss the one who raissed me to be the bull I've become. She would be proud of my accomplisshmentsss...Not all adhere to your pathetic notions of what is right or wrong..."
Dyna nods to Liotuse. "Break him. Bind him. We're getting Strahm back." She moves to rest a hand on Liotuse's shoulder, and bows her head to murmur a prayer, holy energy trickling sluggishly from her palm.
Marius scoffs, "Really. Pathetic notions. Notions like 'love' at all, then. Things she, who you believe would be proud of you, perhaps believed in."
The monstrocity snaps with his molten claws, looking more like a bipedal giant scorpion than a tauren.
Marius continues, "She raised a monster. I suppose if she was proud of you-- she was a monster herself."
"That we are. Ooh-fuckin'-rah." It's grumbled to her as the stock of Liotuse's gun is braced against his shoulder and the end of the barrel pointed towards Apophan. Finger on the trigger but not firing. Yet.
The Sovereign gives a sickening chuckle, "Wrong." His hooves dig in, "Sshe wass worsse." And he bolts for the priest, fiery claw outstretched to flay and fry.
Wilhiem cocks an eyebrow and turns his notebook to the side, sketching madly. Hey, you don't see this every day.
He pulls either glove. There's something soft and resolute in Marius' eyes-- the strange understanding a man of his age comes to accept when he realizes he may die. With that reality ahead of him, there's no use in pretending he can resort to lesser measures. As Apophan speaks-- Marius has already ripped open his wrists. As Apophan charges-- Marius' blood is spilling against the earth. And he -DIVES- beneath the legs of this colossus, attempting to spirit himself between plate-clad battlements and behind the beast.
Apophan's fist slams into the dirt, sparks and glass from the heat fly in all directions.
The gust of power and earth slams against his retreating back. Marius is flung-- rag-doll-- across the sand. He rolls, falling against the stairs with a snap, and hunches at either knee.
Smoke rises from the Sovereign's back as he tears his claw from the ground and turns, snapping his claws and roars, his voice echoing off the ruins, rattling them.
He kneels...
... to the north.
The priest lets out a soft and shuddering breath. It hurts-- but most things worth doing certainly will. Marius' opened wrists continue to bleed the ink of his prospects against indifferent sand. And so he daubs his fingers into and against it. Slashes the grains beneath him. Places symbols against forearms, neck and either cheek. It's methodical ritualism, perhaps the only thing he'd hold in minor common with Apophan's ilk. It has a purpose.
An unearthly chant murmurs throughout the pillars, a distant buzzing sound gets louder and louder as a pale light falls upon him
Apophan rises, his claws flash with lightning and flame as he turns and charges towards Marius in a beastly rage, "WHY DO YOU PERSISST IN LIVING?! YOUR KIND HAVE NO PLACE IN THISS WORLD ANYMORE!" He rears back and vomits a torrent of liquid flame at the priest.
When Marius finally stands, he's a mess of personal gore. Not a second later he's on his knees *again*. And really-- you can't even *see* him if for the torrential waves of -fire- abruptly bathing his person. But those runes-- those strange little runes-- burn brightly against his flesh. When the dust settles, he's still there. And a barely-held barrier cracks audibly against Apophan's onslaught. Golden eyes steel his gaze.
Apophan brings his up claw to deliver the final blow.
There is a buzzing in the distance... the Swarms are begining to return...
Marius' outstretched right hand clocks in place. "... Ximiras."
The Sovereign pauses just long enough to hear the spoken word...
And there's a crack. Something sharp and curious, making the air heavy and pregnant and abruptly -solid-. Concussive force propels itself-- full blast-- at Apophan's massive person. There's death behind it.
Marìus yells: Get everyone and get -OUT OF HERE-. MOVE, Sigil!
The Sovereign had only paused long enough to hear the word but his claw continued down, right into the path of the force. His right, elemental, powerful arm collects the full force.
Apophan's arm... cracks.
Apophan's eyes widen as realizations sets in, the red cracks on his arm become white and glow, not burn.
Apophus's arm explodes in a massive torrent of lightning and flame. Up to the shoulder it is a ruined stump.
Apophan yells: HSRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
"BRYAGH!" The massive drake roars in the distance and lands behind the fire-bleeding Apophan.
There's a brief moment where he's certain he's blacked out. His world is red and black and white all at once, and his knees- barely holding his weight-- abruptly give out beneath him.
The drake snatches his master and takes him to the floating platform above the terrace.
Apophan bellows, "MY BROTHERS AND SISTERS! TONIGHT WE WILL DINE ON THE ASHES OF THE WHITE SIGIL!"
There is a humming noise as the central pylon of the defensive matrix glows a bright white.
Khaelanna yells: DESTRUCTION TAKE YOU ALL!
The yell is what brings Marius out of it. That -stupor-, making him useless. With his hands pressed against the earth, he can almost *feel* doom on his shoulders. Realization sets it.
The entire obelisk network, disabled after Bryagh's defeat... becomes active. Lightning flashes over the entirety of the city.
Marìus yells: ... Come to me. All of you. Now. -Please-.
Apophan yells: DO NOT LET THEM LEAVE. KILL THEM ALL. DRIVE THEM TO EXTINCTION!
Marius is writing against the sand. And the stone. And his -skin-. Faster, priest. Do this faster. Do this *faster*.
Dyna falls to a crouch beside Marius, reaching out to gingerly touch the Kaldorei with a very faintly glowing hand.
The buzzing intensifies as the entire Swarm appears overheard in a holding pattern over the crystal.
Khaelanna: *Maniacal laughter* "IT IS TOO LATE FOR YOU ALL!!"
Marius: "--Touch the runes. Touch the RUNES."
Dyna blinks at the words, and moves to touch the runes as directed.
Apophan's laughter echoes through the ruins.
Llew rushes quickly, barely able to see anything at all. One hand pressed to his head, he shuffles through the sand.
Mayru moves to touch as well, shadows trailing down her arm.
Khaelanna: *laughter continues as she swings into the saddle of the waiting drake*
Chuckling - then cackling, loudly, spitting blood and god-knows-what-else, Wil reaches for the runes.
It won't feel good, but it will work. There's a moment where the lot of them might damned well feel like they've been turned inside -OUT-. But it's done-- some great warble of energy rocks the land beneath their feet, and a runegate-- a portal-- swallows his fellows up with one destination: Home. The Quel'talan. Their -family-.
The crystal makes a screeching noise, similar to the dead Hivemother... The ENTIRE Swarm dives, stinger first for the invaders...
The Insects find only sand. "NO!" Apophan howls....
Appearing in a crack of electricity, the mangled and Elementium-plated Strahm stands on the stairwell, glaring down at the circle of Sigil and friends, blades drawn.
Dyna looks up just in time to catch sight of Strahm... and then is pulled away with a faint screech.
Liotuse more or less -collapses- as he's ripped from Ahn'qiraj and thrown down into the magical gate.
Apophan yells: SHSSSSRRRARAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
Apophan yells: Drathnor, take the Inquisitor from here.
Drathnor yells: As you wish.
Marìus yells: Sigil! Sound off!
Mayrù yells: Lio isn't in good shape! Over here!
Drathnor yells: YOU LUCKY FOOLS! Saved by the soveriegn. You will die!
Odynae yells: Tuse, Mayru, Dyna over here.
Drathnor yells: All of you shall fall before my axe! Stupid sons of bitches....
Apophan yells: You have desecrated thiss ... SACRED GROUND
Apophan yells: You have tresspassed where none who have can be allowed to live.
Marìus yells: And you have taken what is not yours to take. Gods are false, Apophan. Nice to see you again.
Apophan yells: You...
Apophan yells: I will do to you what I should have done in Shattrath or Falconwing Square!
Apophan begins to descende the stairs, lightning whips and lashes around him against the steps. The bolts lash against the walls leaving black trails. As he takes each step, his robes burn and melt away, revealing cracked, flame-covered metal beneath.
Llew remains there, halfway up the stairs, watching the creature.
Apophan looks at Llew, then the other groups.
Llew stares; rage boiling in his eyes. Bloodlust.
Marius' eyes level on Apophan. He's big. Bigger than he remembers, even-- and the energies that crackle 'round his body are not lost on the priest. Marius isn't a stupid man: This is not a fight he'll win on his strength alone.
Liotuse coughs, some blood coming out with it as he cocks the hammer for his rifle, staring up at the sky before getting up onto an elbow to at least look forward.
Apophan doesn't even register the death knight, only the one who leads the Sigil. The one who brought an army to his gates, who's people destroyed his silithid hive.
Dyna stands her ground, expression quite empty. She blinks down at Wilhiem, and offers a noncommital shrug. "- I thought I'd try." She returns her attention to Liotuse, and moves to crouch beside him.
One hoofbeat could break Marius' *spine*. But many are injured-- and the alternatives aren't pretty. What's worse is that the ley he'd prepared to contain him-- to try to contain him-- is gone. It'd fractured beneath the weight of its own design, re-directed in a last-ditch attempt to protect his Sigil back at the Hold. So.
Apophan takes his scythe and slams it into the ground, embedding it as rocks jut around it. Flame and metal course over his hands and elongate.
They've come this far. What now. Marius wets his lips. He feels very, very ordinary and very, very mortal right now.
Wil winces, takes out another adrenaline-shot bug. The stinger goes into his neck, out. Eyes wide and darting, diluted, he does the one thing logical in this situation - he pulls out a notebook and proceeds to take notes.
Liotuse's head cants to the side, gazing at the monster before them. All he can to is wheeze to Dyna, trying for a last attempt at humour. "...He doesn't look so big."
The Sovereign flexes his claws and hunches over, his Saronite tail emerges from behind his robes and snaps open and closed, either a five plated blade, or a spear point. A gift from Salarous.
Marius remarks, "--Sometimes I really do wonder, Apophan, if you were ever a son a mother once loved."
Apophan responds, "My mother iss the one who raissed me to be the bull I've become. She would be proud of my accomplisshmentsss...Not all adhere to your pathetic notions of what is right or wrong..."
Dyna nods to Liotuse. "Break him. Bind him. We're getting Strahm back." She moves to rest a hand on Liotuse's shoulder, and bows her head to murmur a prayer, holy energy trickling sluggishly from her palm.
Marius scoffs, "Really. Pathetic notions. Notions like 'love' at all, then. Things she, who you believe would be proud of you, perhaps believed in."
The monstrocity snaps with his molten claws, looking more like a bipedal giant scorpion than a tauren.
Marius continues, "She raised a monster. I suppose if she was proud of you-- she was a monster herself."
"That we are. Ooh-fuckin'-rah." It's grumbled to her as the stock of Liotuse's gun is braced against his shoulder and the end of the barrel pointed towards Apophan. Finger on the trigger but not firing. Yet.
The Sovereign gives a sickening chuckle, "Wrong." His hooves dig in, "Sshe wass worsse." And he bolts for the priest, fiery claw outstretched to flay and fry.
Wilhiem cocks an eyebrow and turns his notebook to the side, sketching madly. Hey, you don't see this every day.
He pulls either glove. There's something soft and resolute in Marius' eyes-- the strange understanding a man of his age comes to accept when he realizes he may die. With that reality ahead of him, there's no use in pretending he can resort to lesser measures. As Apophan speaks-- Marius has already ripped open his wrists. As Apophan charges-- Marius' blood is spilling against the earth. And he -DIVES- beneath the legs of this colossus, attempting to spirit himself between plate-clad battlements and behind the beast.
Apophan's fist slams into the dirt, sparks and glass from the heat fly in all directions.
The gust of power and earth slams against his retreating back. Marius is flung-- rag-doll-- across the sand. He rolls, falling against the stairs with a snap, and hunches at either knee.
Smoke rises from the Sovereign's back as he tears his claw from the ground and turns, snapping his claws and roars, his voice echoing off the ruins, rattling them.
He kneels...
... to the north.
The priest lets out a soft and shuddering breath. It hurts-- but most things worth doing certainly will. Marius' opened wrists continue to bleed the ink of his prospects against indifferent sand. And so he daubs his fingers into and against it. Slashes the grains beneath him. Places symbols against forearms, neck and either cheek. It's methodical ritualism, perhaps the only thing he'd hold in minor common with Apophan's ilk. It has a purpose.
An unearthly chant murmurs throughout the pillars, a distant buzzing sound gets louder and louder as a pale light falls upon him
Apophan rises, his claws flash with lightning and flame as he turns and charges towards Marius in a beastly rage, "WHY DO YOU PERSISST IN LIVING?! YOUR KIND HAVE NO PLACE IN THISS WORLD ANYMORE!" He rears back and vomits a torrent of liquid flame at the priest.
When Marius finally stands, he's a mess of personal gore. Not a second later he's on his knees *again*. And really-- you can't even *see* him if for the torrential waves of -fire- abruptly bathing his person. But those runes-- those strange little runes-- burn brightly against his flesh. When the dust settles, he's still there. And a barely-held barrier cracks audibly against Apophan's onslaught. Golden eyes steel his gaze.
Apophan brings his up claw to deliver the final blow.
There is a buzzing in the distance... the Swarms are begining to return...
Marius' outstretched right hand clocks in place. "... Ximiras."
The Sovereign pauses just long enough to hear the spoken word...
And there's a crack. Something sharp and curious, making the air heavy and pregnant and abruptly -solid-. Concussive force propels itself-- full blast-- at Apophan's massive person. There's death behind it.
Marìus yells: Get everyone and get -OUT OF HERE-. MOVE, Sigil!
The Sovereign had only paused long enough to hear the word but his claw continued down, right into the path of the force. His right, elemental, powerful arm collects the full force.
Apophan's arm... cracks.
Apophan's eyes widen as realizations sets in, the red cracks on his arm become white and glow, not burn.
Apophus's arm explodes in a massive torrent of lightning and flame. Up to the shoulder it is a ruined stump.
Apophan yells: HSRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
"BRYAGH!" The massive drake roars in the distance and lands behind the fire-bleeding Apophan.
There's a brief moment where he's certain he's blacked out. His world is red and black and white all at once, and his knees- barely holding his weight-- abruptly give out beneath him.
The drake snatches his master and takes him to the floating platform above the terrace.
Apophan bellows, "MY BROTHERS AND SISTERS! TONIGHT WE WILL DINE ON THE ASHES OF THE WHITE SIGIL!"
There is a humming noise as the central pylon of the defensive matrix glows a bright white.
Khaelanna yells: DESTRUCTION TAKE YOU ALL!
The yell is what brings Marius out of it. That -stupor-, making him useless. With his hands pressed against the earth, he can almost *feel* doom on his shoulders. Realization sets it.
The entire obelisk network, disabled after Bryagh's defeat... becomes active. Lightning flashes over the entirety of the city.
Marìus yells: ... Come to me. All of you. Now. -Please-.
Apophan yells: DO NOT LET THEM LEAVE. KILL THEM ALL. DRIVE THEM TO EXTINCTION!
Marius is writing against the sand. And the stone. And his -skin-. Faster, priest. Do this faster. Do this *faster*.
Dyna falls to a crouch beside Marius, reaching out to gingerly touch the Kaldorei with a very faintly glowing hand.
The buzzing intensifies as the entire Swarm appears overheard in a holding pattern over the crystal.
Khaelanna: *Maniacal laughter* "IT IS TOO LATE FOR YOU ALL!!"
Marius: "--Touch the runes. Touch the RUNES."
Dyna blinks at the words, and moves to touch the runes as directed.
Apophan's laughter echoes through the ruins.
Llew rushes quickly, barely able to see anything at all. One hand pressed to his head, he shuffles through the sand.
Mayru moves to touch as well, shadows trailing down her arm.
Khaelanna: *laughter continues as she swings into the saddle of the waiting drake*
Chuckling - then cackling, loudly, spitting blood and god-knows-what-else, Wil reaches for the runes.
It won't feel good, but it will work. There's a moment where the lot of them might damned well feel like they've been turned inside -OUT-. But it's done-- some great warble of energy rocks the land beneath their feet, and a runegate-- a portal-- swallows his fellows up with one destination: Home. The Quel'talan. Their -family-.
The crystal makes a screeching noise, similar to the dead Hivemother... The ENTIRE Swarm dives, stinger first for the invaders...
The Insects find only sand. "NO!" Apophan howls....
Appearing in a crack of electricity, the mangled and Elementium-plated Strahm stands on the stairwell, glaring down at the circle of Sigil and friends, blades drawn.
Dyna looks up just in time to catch sight of Strahm... and then is pulled away with a faint screech.
Liotuse more or less -collapses- as he's ripped from Ahn'qiraj and thrown down into the magical gate.
Epilogue: Light's Hope Chapel
At the top of the stairs floats what looks like a cocoon, a familiar face visible at the top...
Oliver pushes away from Apophan and, with what last of his energy he has, bolts up the stairs.
Oliver says: Senkha!
Senkha is not breathing.
Ariadine stands below the cocoon. She looks exhausted but forces a sneer at the two men approaching.
Oliver is a blighted mess of a rotting corpse. He's barely recognizeable. He steps forward and swings at Ariadine. This is not time for nonsense, it is time for punches to the face.
Ariadine stumbles back. Okay, was not expecting a face pawnch so early in the game. "Are you insane?!" She shrieks hysterically. Shadows circle her feet and begin to form a half hearted shield. Damn Ollie, you scurreh.
Nialos moves forward, also swinging for Ariadine. "Shut. Up."
Senkha's head lolls to the side of its own accord. Blood trickles from her mouth.
Oliver drops to his knees, ignoring her shadows and cradling Senkha in his arms. "Y'could say so, yes."
Ariadine's shield sputters and collapses under the angry old man fist.
Ariadine crumples in a heap of KO'd shadowbrat.
Senkha's head falls forward onto Oliver's shoulder; up close, it's clear that she's cocooned in a combination of shadow and fel magic.
Oliver lifts Senkha's head with a hand. "No, no- no, no, no-" He kisses her cheek. The flesh burns from the blight trailing from his lips, and he's begun to shudder. "No, no- Come on, no-"
Oliver looks up. "Ah'm gettin' her out 'a here. Nialos, Ah'm gettin' her-"
Nialos looks around, desperately, and finally begins to conjure a Death Gate.
Oliver lifts her in his arms and staggers through the Gate- they'd find themselves in Acherus, though he'd quickly get her to Light's Hope.
Nialos follows suit, sighing heavily. "Just... Just another day."
Nialos also takes Ariadine.
[they reach Light's Hope Chapel]
Senkha is still not breathing, still wrapped in her cocoon of shadow and fel magic. Her face is badly bruised and her shape, under the cocoon, is somehow...off.
Senkha has been flown down from Acherus, with some thinly-veiled disdain from its inhabitants, to Light's Hope. Oliver explains to the medics the situation as best as he can manage, and the mages set to work on unbinding her.
Nialos stands there. Impassively.
As the mages unbind her, the extent of Senkha's wounds becomes more apparent: both legs are badly twisted and broken, and her entire right side is covered with burns, both shadow and natural.
Nialos looks his daughter over, eye narrowed and lips drawn into a tight line. He glances up at Oliver, barely able to contain his grief now.
Macglynn collapses nearby as the cocoon falls. She has help. He doesn't need to be on his feet anymore. He rests on his side, and whispers as the medics set in on her injuries. "Please. Please. Please."
The medics work hardest on simply trying to get Senkha breathing again. It takes a few minutes, but they manage to find a pulse, and eventually begin forcing air into her system through complicated tubing. Bindings are wrapped around her burns.
Nialos' eye drifts all around the chapel's interior, brows furrowed as he struggles to maintain some resemblance of calm.
Macglynn seems past calm, past angry, past insane, and straight into calm again. One hand shakingly reaches out to touch her as the medics move away to gather supplies, and remains there until he's yelled at to remove it.
Macglynn whispers: Can you hear me? I love you. Can you hear me?
Senkha suddenly shrieks inhumanly, her body going rigid. The medics turn her on her side; one remarks, "She's seizing," in about the same tone one would say "it's raining."
To Macglynn: A spark.
Nialos stiffens at the shriek, and soon, a hand comes up to obscure his face. "Pull through, pull through..." He quietly repeats this over and over again.
Macglynn is dragged away by the medics. He's a deadweight. Black streaks on the marble floor under him. It's an effort, but they need him out of the way. He doesn't have the energy to struggle. Just looks at her.
The seizure ends relatively quickly; when it's over, Senkha is breathing again. The medics get to work trying to set her legs and mend her broken bones. They work at a lightning pace.
Nialos slowly moves away from the scene, determined not to get in the way. He takes a seat close to Oliver.
Macglynn whispers: I need you. I love you. Please. Please don't die. Please. I love you.
To Macglynn: The spark has become a steady flame. Weak, but steady. The sense of something trying to push through.
Macglynn closes his eyes and allows himself to sag against the wall. He also allows himself to weep, or as close as undead can come to it. "Please. Ah need you back. Please."
Nialos' voice is hoarse (for a Death Knight), his gaze stern. "She'll make it, Oliver. She's strong. She'll make it."
It may take a few minutes or it may take hours, but eventually, the medics step away from Senkha's form. She's covered in bandages and swollen, but her faint pulse is steady, as is her breathing. The chief medic approaches Oliver and Nialos, his expression grim. "She's stable. For now."
Nialos grunts, rolling his eye. "That's assuring." He sighs, however, and nods. "... Thanks."
The medic continues, almost deadpan. "I can't say when or if she'll recover completely. Her injuries are extensive and the infection is more severe than it at first appeared. We're also limited...the amount of shadow magic forced on her system has made her intolerant of the Light until said shadow magic is purged."
Macglynn says: Wh- what about other. Healing. Methods.
Nialos grumbles quietly to himself, before throwing a hand up. "What about nature magic? Isn't there-" He catches hismelf. "Isn't there anything, anything at all..."
The medic frowns slightly. "Other forms of magic could help, yes. Our medics here aren't trained in those forms, however, and our druid team is away on a mission to the Plagued Woods right now."
Macglynn says: Well fuck me sidew- *he coughs again, more black spilling onto the marble. It's more solid this time! Yay?*
Macglynn says: Can we move 'er?
The medic's frown deepens, and he shakes his head. "For her sake, it would be better to wait until we can construct braces for her legs. And...I should warn you that she will likely never walk properly again."
Macglynn snarls and tries to push himself up again. "SHE. CAN'T. DIE." He's far too torn up to actually stand, though, and just falls over onto his side, cheek in a pool of his own "blood". "She can't-"
Nialos says: Oliver. Calm. Down.
Nialos pinches his brow. "Lame legs? Fine. She'll make do. Will you -watch her-?" He glares up at the medic.
Macglynn doesn't try sitting back up, apparently having given up on the prospect.
For a moment, the guards move towards Oliver as if to retrain him, but the chief medic raises a hand to them and they fall back. "She won't die. Not tonight at least. For your sake, I'd recommend getting your own injuries looked at. We'll watch her through the night. You're welcome to return. We may have her more stable by morning, and you can move her then."
Macglynn says: Burn 'em shut fer all Ah care. Ah ain't leavin' her.
Nialos roughly places a hand on Oliver, quickly funneling a healing stream of bloody magic into the poor sod. "Here. Stop bleeding all over their flooring. Won't be good for her, too."
Nialos says: Last thing she needs in this state is a helping of Blight.
A few of the medics make irritated or disgusted sounds, though the chief medic's voice remains compassionate. "If you are going to stay, it's better for her if you get yourself cleaned up." He nods at Nialos.
Macglynn looks ready to suggest they just spray him with a hose if they want him cleaned up so bad, but instead nods, cheek still pressed on the floor. There's a lot of pain in his eyes.
The medic extends a (gloved) hand to Oliver in an attempt to help him up. "We'll do all we can to save her, sir."
To Macglynn: --h--h...e..r--e.
Macglynn reaches up to take the man's hand. He stumbles a bit once he's righted, and looks at Senkha. He smiles.
Macglynn whispers: I am too.
To Macglynn: All goes silent again, save for that steady flame.
Oliver pushes away from Apophan and, with what last of his energy he has, bolts up the stairs.
Oliver says: Senkha!
Senkha is not breathing.
Ariadine stands below the cocoon. She looks exhausted but forces a sneer at the two men approaching.
Oliver is a blighted mess of a rotting corpse. He's barely recognizeable. He steps forward and swings at Ariadine. This is not time for nonsense, it is time for punches to the face.
Ariadine stumbles back. Okay, was not expecting a face pawnch so early in the game. "Are you insane?!" She shrieks hysterically. Shadows circle her feet and begin to form a half hearted shield. Damn Ollie, you scurreh.
Nialos moves forward, also swinging for Ariadine. "Shut. Up."
Senkha's head lolls to the side of its own accord. Blood trickles from her mouth.
Oliver drops to his knees, ignoring her shadows and cradling Senkha in his arms. "Y'could say so, yes."
Ariadine's shield sputters and collapses under the angry old man fist.
Ariadine crumples in a heap of KO'd shadowbrat.
Senkha's head falls forward onto Oliver's shoulder; up close, it's clear that she's cocooned in a combination of shadow and fel magic.
Oliver lifts Senkha's head with a hand. "No, no- no, no, no-" He kisses her cheek. The flesh burns from the blight trailing from his lips, and he's begun to shudder. "No, no- Come on, no-"
Oliver looks up. "Ah'm gettin' her out 'a here. Nialos, Ah'm gettin' her-"
Nialos looks around, desperately, and finally begins to conjure a Death Gate.
Oliver lifts her in his arms and staggers through the Gate- they'd find themselves in Acherus, though he'd quickly get her to Light's Hope.
Nialos follows suit, sighing heavily. "Just... Just another day."
Nialos also takes Ariadine.
[they reach Light's Hope Chapel]
Senkha is still not breathing, still wrapped in her cocoon of shadow and fel magic. Her face is badly bruised and her shape, under the cocoon, is somehow...off.
Senkha has been flown down from Acherus, with some thinly-veiled disdain from its inhabitants, to Light's Hope. Oliver explains to the medics the situation as best as he can manage, and the mages set to work on unbinding her.
Nialos stands there. Impassively.
As the mages unbind her, the extent of Senkha's wounds becomes more apparent: both legs are badly twisted and broken, and her entire right side is covered with burns, both shadow and natural.
Nialos looks his daughter over, eye narrowed and lips drawn into a tight line. He glances up at Oliver, barely able to contain his grief now.
Macglynn collapses nearby as the cocoon falls. She has help. He doesn't need to be on his feet anymore. He rests on his side, and whispers as the medics set in on her injuries. "Please. Please. Please."
The medics work hardest on simply trying to get Senkha breathing again. It takes a few minutes, but they manage to find a pulse, and eventually begin forcing air into her system through complicated tubing. Bindings are wrapped around her burns.
Nialos' eye drifts all around the chapel's interior, brows furrowed as he struggles to maintain some resemblance of calm.
Macglynn seems past calm, past angry, past insane, and straight into calm again. One hand shakingly reaches out to touch her as the medics move away to gather supplies, and remains there until he's yelled at to remove it.
Macglynn whispers: Can you hear me? I love you. Can you hear me?
Senkha suddenly shrieks inhumanly, her body going rigid. The medics turn her on her side; one remarks, "She's seizing," in about the same tone one would say "it's raining."
To Macglynn: A spark.
Nialos stiffens at the shriek, and soon, a hand comes up to obscure his face. "Pull through, pull through..." He quietly repeats this over and over again.
Macglynn is dragged away by the medics. He's a deadweight. Black streaks on the marble floor under him. It's an effort, but they need him out of the way. He doesn't have the energy to struggle. Just looks at her.
The seizure ends relatively quickly; when it's over, Senkha is breathing again. The medics get to work trying to set her legs and mend her broken bones. They work at a lightning pace.
Nialos slowly moves away from the scene, determined not to get in the way. He takes a seat close to Oliver.
Macglynn whispers: I need you. I love you. Please. Please don't die. Please. I love you.
To Macglynn: The spark has become a steady flame. Weak, but steady. The sense of something trying to push through.
Macglynn closes his eyes and allows himself to sag against the wall. He also allows himself to weep, or as close as undead can come to it. "Please. Ah need you back. Please."
Nialos' voice is hoarse (for a Death Knight), his gaze stern. "She'll make it, Oliver. She's strong. She'll make it."
It may take a few minutes or it may take hours, but eventually, the medics step away from Senkha's form. She's covered in bandages and swollen, but her faint pulse is steady, as is her breathing. The chief medic approaches Oliver and Nialos, his expression grim. "She's stable. For now."
Nialos grunts, rolling his eye. "That's assuring." He sighs, however, and nods. "... Thanks."
The medic continues, almost deadpan. "I can't say when or if she'll recover completely. Her injuries are extensive and the infection is more severe than it at first appeared. We're also limited...the amount of shadow magic forced on her system has made her intolerant of the Light until said shadow magic is purged."
Macglynn says: Wh- what about other. Healing. Methods.
Nialos grumbles quietly to himself, before throwing a hand up. "What about nature magic? Isn't there-" He catches hismelf. "Isn't there anything, anything at all..."
The medic frowns slightly. "Other forms of magic could help, yes. Our medics here aren't trained in those forms, however, and our druid team is away on a mission to the Plagued Woods right now."
Macglynn says: Well fuck me sidew- *he coughs again, more black spilling onto the marble. It's more solid this time! Yay?*
Macglynn says: Can we move 'er?
The medic's frown deepens, and he shakes his head. "For her sake, it would be better to wait until we can construct braces for her legs. And...I should warn you that she will likely never walk properly again."
Macglynn snarls and tries to push himself up again. "SHE. CAN'T. DIE." He's far too torn up to actually stand, though, and just falls over onto his side, cheek in a pool of his own "blood". "She can't-"
Nialos says: Oliver. Calm. Down.
Nialos pinches his brow. "Lame legs? Fine. She'll make do. Will you -watch her-?" He glares up at the medic.
Macglynn doesn't try sitting back up, apparently having given up on the prospect.
For a moment, the guards move towards Oliver as if to retrain him, but the chief medic raises a hand to them and they fall back. "She won't die. Not tonight at least. For your sake, I'd recommend getting your own injuries looked at. We'll watch her through the night. You're welcome to return. We may have her more stable by morning, and you can move her then."
Macglynn says: Burn 'em shut fer all Ah care. Ah ain't leavin' her.
Nialos roughly places a hand on Oliver, quickly funneling a healing stream of bloody magic into the poor sod. "Here. Stop bleeding all over their flooring. Won't be good for her, too."
Nialos says: Last thing she needs in this state is a helping of Blight.
A few of the medics make irritated or disgusted sounds, though the chief medic's voice remains compassionate. "If you are going to stay, it's better for her if you get yourself cleaned up." He nods at Nialos.
Macglynn looks ready to suggest they just spray him with a hose if they want him cleaned up so bad, but instead nods, cheek still pressed on the floor. There's a lot of pain in his eyes.
The medic extends a (gloved) hand to Oliver in an attempt to help him up. "We'll do all we can to save her, sir."
To Macglynn: --h--h...e..r--e.
Macglynn reaches up to take the man's hand. He stumbles a bit once he's righted, and looks at Senkha. He smiles.
Macglynn whispers: I am too.
To Macglynn: All goes silent again, save for that steady flame.
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