Senkha, Oliver & Nialos: June 17

Senkha slips out of Oliver's arms and watches him, relinquishing her hold on his body as Nialos arrives. She isn't saying very much, but she looks tense.

Nialos waves Oliver's runeblade about, signaling that, yes. He has it.

Senkha tenses upon seeing this, glancing at Oliver as if she expects him to basically eat everything.

Macglynn runs at Nialos and tries to wrestle the blade out of his hands.

Senkha says: --let him have it.
Senkha says: Nothing out here to kill but the Scourge and us, and he won't hurt us.

Nialos relinquishes his grip, letting the blade fall into Oliver's grabby palms. "Fine, fine..."

Senkha watches this and awkwardly explains, "It's angry. It wants to kill. ...it probably wants me to help."

Macglynn doesn't waste a second in taking a swing at Nialos with his newly-acquired blade.

Senkha 's body jerks again, her eyes clenching shut.
And then she takes control again. Down boy. Easy. Easy.

Nialos ' eye flares, body instinstively ducking down and rolling away from Oliver. "What happened to, "he won't hurt us"!?" he cries.

Macglynn 's blade stops far before it ever would have hit Nialos. Slowly, he lowers it.

Senkha remains stiff and motionless. "...I won't let him," she explains through gritted teeth. Her eyes are still closed. She seems unable to move for herself and, occasionally, her voice seems to come through Oliver's mouth.

Nialos deadpans. "Fantastic."

"You're seeing things. You're killing things that shouldn't be killed. Don't hurt Dad. Don't hurt me. Turn around... destroy the Scourge there."

Macglynn raises his blade again and turns, charging off toward the corpses that still aimlessly wander the valley.

Senkha remains motionless, though she continues to speak. "I'm sorry, Dad," she says after a long moment. Her voice breaks a bit on the last word.

Nialos sighs, the glow of his eye dimming to normal. "For what."

Senkha sighs audibly, though her body doesn't really move at all. "For what I'm doing right now. For... this. Because I... Light, this is going to sound crazy."

Nialos says: Dear, after everything I've seen you two do, say and fall prey to? I don't think there's anything that'll really surprise me.

Senkha says: ...I'm controlling Oliver's body. I've done it three times before, all when he was feeding his blade. With his direction, I... committed necromancy. And then I did it again to close up his wounds.
Senkha adds, after a very, very long pause, "...and I'm not sorry."

Nialos grumbles, fussing with his beard. "And are you willing to suffer the same fate of the damned?" His voice lacks the usual warmth, carrying a cold, direct bite.

Senkha doesn't move, though her voice carries with it the same sound as someone who's squared her shoulders, prepared for any sort of dressing down or lecture she might receive. "I am. I can't undo it now. Necromancy is damnable, and it's done."

Nialos nods. "So be it, then."

Senkha says: ...I know it hurts you. And for -that- I'm sorry. I n-never want to hurt you. I didn't even mean to, at least to start, but...
Senkha fails at being rigid in her position on matters.

Nialos frees his runeblade of its constraints, draws, and plunges it into the ground. Then he crashes to the ground - he has made himself a makeshift chair.
Nialos says: It hurts, yes. I never wanted you to suffer -our- fate -- our damnation -- but...
Nialos looks out over the frozen wastes, watching as the animated corpses lumber about. "I think, at the back of my mind, I knew it'd happen."

Senkha says: That doesn't make it any easier, though. I... I know. I wasn't going to... I mean. I didn't want to tell you. Or anyone. But now..

Nialos says: Senkha. I'm your father. Even if there's no true blood between us, that bond holds; I know you. You've always been... 'close', to this path.
Nialos says: Hell, if your initial attraction to Oliver wasn't enough of an indicator...

Senkha makes a quiet, pained sound. Her body, tired of standing stiffly, wilts to the ground, though Senkha seems unaffected. "You encouraged that, though."

Nialos lets his head fall back against the blade with a quiet 'plink'. "I know I did. I thought that, just maybe... he could have showed you the darkness and turned you away. Saved you."

Senkha makes another pained sound. "In a way, he has. Even if I've done this... damned myself ...I'm not the same woman I was when you met me. You know that. ...right?"

Nialos says: I know. I know.
Nialos ' head drops to rest against his chest, a quiet, defeated sigh escaping him. "But that doesn't mean things couldn't have been different..."

Senkha says: He calls it "sinning nobly." I don't want to control an army of ghouls or rule the world from a frozen throne. I just want to keep my husband from being destroyed if I can. And to save others when he loses his mind.
Senkha says: And I don't -like- doing it. I feel -disgusting- when I do. It's why this is only the fourth time this has happened.

Nialos says: But that brings the question to mind, Senkha... if this continues on, how long until it stops being Oliver?
Nialos says: How long until the person you're trying to control is no longer the man you love?

Senkha makes another pained noise. "And that's the other part. I'm not trying to control him... I'm trying to avoid that. I... hnn. I don't want to talk to you about our sex life. But the point is... I know it's bound to happen sooner or later."
Senkha says: Just like it will happen to you. Just like it will happen to me. And every Death Knight... not that I am one.
Senkha says: And Light-willing, someone will have the foresight to off us when that happens.

Nialos ' head rises, slowly, and his expression tells it all: he's tired. "If it comes to it, you'll both die by my hand."

Senkha says: ...within minutes of each other. Please.

Nialos runs a hand over the earth. "It'd be at the same time. Overlooking Lordaeron."

Senkha 's shoulders shudder without her consent. She's crying and can't control it. "Would it be painless?"

Nialos says: You'd be lined up next to the blade, on your knees. Clean slice. Takes your head, destroys the blade.

Senkha says: ...is that-- nnn.

Nialos says: What?

Senkha speaks more quietly, almost childishly. "...is that how you killed William?"

Nialos says: ...no.
Nialos says: Dagger. Missed his heart. Bled out.

Senkha grunts in response. "...I hope it won't come to that."

Nialos says: It won't.

Senkha says: Do you think you'll go first?

Nialos says: 'Go first'?

Senkha says: Die first I mean.
Senkha says: Before you have to kill us.

Nialos grunts. "Doubt it."

Senkha 's voice is very small. "I don't want you to go through that again."

Nialos says: I probably will, though.

Senkha just grunts quietly. Mutters something about Oliver coming back.

Macglynn plods silently back over to the two, throwing his blade violently to the ground when he reaches them. It jumps across the ice and skids to a harmless stop. He sits.

Nialos weakly raises an arm, waves, then lets it drop into his lap. "How is he?"

Senkha 's eyes snap open as she relinquishes control of Oliver's body to move back into her own. Stiffly, and like she's been sleeping for hours, she goes to Nialos' runeblade chair and rests her head on his shoulder. "How are you?" she repeats, looking at her husband.

Macglynn doesn't respond to their questions right away, staring at his blade for a long moment. He finally mutters, "Fahn."

Senkha , after a few minutes, removes her mask and just holds it in her lap, staring at it and letting this awkward silence persist. Persist, awkward silence, persist.

Macglynn says: Don't- dun' take me back up t' Daleran.

Nialos clamps his eye shut, head falling again to his chest. "Why?"

Macglynn shakes his head slowly. "They ain't lettin' me back in there."

Senkha says: You're not going back there. We'll spend the night here and in the morning, we'll go to the Argent Crusade's quarantine in Lordaeron.

Macglynn says: Good. Near Ebon Hold.

Nialos grunts. Just. Grunts.

Senkha says: They've almost got the cure, love. And as soon as they do, I'll have Marius come administer it. And then you and I can kidnap him and we'll have a long weekend of drinking and bullshit.

Macglynn nods, staring blankly at the ground. Slowly, he reaches out and grabs his blade by the hilt. He pulls it to himself and uses it to hoist himself up to his feet. He walks sluggishly closer to the two and drops down again, next to his wife.

Senkha takes a moment and then places her mask against Oliver's shoulder, between her and the Blight. And then she rests her head there, sighing. "Why us," she grumbles after resting for a long time.

Nialos reaches for the hilt of his blade, pulling himself up soon after. He practically rips the blade free from its icy sheath before stalking off into the dead-infested tundra.

Macglynn still doesn't seem to be in a vocal mood. He allows her to rest her head there, but doesn't move closer to her.
Oliver is beyond angry with himself, to the point of just shutting down.

Senkha doesn't respond much to this anger; she's kind of expected it, though she does wearily think "this isn't your fault." She's to the point of "whatever, man," though.
Senkha says: So Dad knows.

Macglynn peels a chunk of ghoul from what remains of his tabard and tosses it to the side. "Knows whut."

Senkha says: The whole... necromancy thing.
Senkha says: It's kind of hard to not explain to someone who's watching you remotely control your husband that you're...er. Remotely controlling your husband.

Macglynn says: Oh, well that's beautiful. Whut'd 'e say t' that.
Macglynn says: Ah kin guess.

Senkha says: Please do.

Macglynn says: Ah'm gunna guess 'e expected it b'cause Ah'm a damned Death Knight an' you ain't, but still pissed.

Senkha says: Hurt would be more accurate.
Senkha says: He fully expects to kill us both someday. On a hill overlooking Lordaeron. We'd both be kneeling... and he'd take off our heads.
Senkha says: ...it's really creepy that he's thought that much about it.

Macglynn says: ... We all tend t' dwell on death a lot.
Senkha knows; she's likely seen the hundreds of deaths Oliver's considered that would be ways of going out "usefully".

But on Senkha's part, she can't think of these things... she's tried, but she can't. It hurts too much. And this is new, so she pretends it doesn't and ignores these things, hoping they'll go away.
Senkha says: You're dead. Dad's dead. I'll be there soon enough.

Macglynn says: Not jus' 'cause y'healed me a couple'a tahms, Senkha. Or even th' control thing.
Macglynn says: That ain't gunna corrupt yah inna th' undead.

Senkha says: ...it's because I'm not sorry, isn't it.

Macglynn says: ... What?

Senkha says: Well, if that's not it, why -will- I be corrupted into one of the undead? And if you say "It's because I'm going to kill you" and then we have a repeat of Azshara, I demand that my entry into undeath be followed by three solid weeks at an Acherus spa.
Senkha says: And no, I am not kidding.

Macglynn says: We... don't got a spa.

Senkha says: What do the geists do then?
Whether she actually believes this or not, Senkha presses upon Oliver a mental image of the geists existing to ensure that Death Knights stay mostly unrotted. They give massages, too. And paint Blood Elf Death Knights' toenails.

Macglynn says: Jump around an' git in ever'body's way lahk a bunch 'a assholes?
Macglynn stares you down.
Macglynn says: Sometahms they mop, too.

Senkha says: How about the vrykul?
Senkha says: Is that what they are? No, the flappy ones.
Senkha flaps her hands like wings.

Macglynn says: Whutever happened t'talkin' 'bout this undead thing?

Senkha says: Sorry. Why am I going to be undead?
Senkha stops trying to whistle in the dark.

Macglynn says: B'cause you ain't gunna wanna leave me.

Senkha says: ...if there was another way, you -know- I'd rather take that. Maybe Marius would know something.
Senkha says: We can ask him when we're drunk.

Macglynn says: Look me in th' eye an' tell me y'see any other future.

Senkha looks at Oliver quite seriously. "I can't. But I've never been much good at predicting things."

Macglynn says: Mm. Well. Y'go 'head an' ask Maryus.

Mairèad's Ordination: April 30

Mairèad exhales and finally smiles at Chadley, nodding. She glances back to Shepard and smiles at him as well before looking up at Matteo. "I'm ready t'start now."

Tohuu blinks at Ovrik.

Matteo says: Of course. Thank you all for attending today.
Matteo says: In the name of the Light, we gather here to witness the ordination of Mairead Isolde Lisa Fallon.
Matteo says: In the Light, we gather to empower our sister. In its grace, she shall be made anew. In its power, she shall educate the masses. In its strength, she shall combat the shadow. And, in its wisdom, she shall lead her brethren into the eternal rewards of paradise.

Oggleton lands with a heavy thud on the roof. "Dammit..."

Emirdelle says: My Colonel senses are tingling.

Chadley looks up at Oggleton.

Ovrik dabs his... third? One went to the robot, one went to the draenei woman. Third handkerchief at the corners of his eyes.

Mairèad stands at ease, her head bowed, eyes closed, though she looks up when Oggleton lands, blinking a few times.

Matteo says: I will ask now for those of you that have prepared speeches to step forward.

Tohuu is still holding the frilly hankerchief in her hands. She's waiting for the fake tears.

Oggleton whispers to Lius. "Did I prepare a speech?"

Mairèad glances over at Chadley, Stehl, and Oggleton. "Colonel Hardcheese will be speakin' first, on th'virtue of respect."

Chadley takes a single step forward, the wrinkled paper still clutched in his hand.

Matteo gestures Oggleton forward.

Emirdelle slips a note to Oggleton. "There you go sir."

Lius nods. "Aye, sir. Ye did."

Ovrik 's tears are sincere. He dabs.

Stehl says: ... Wait, he had respect? Oh, no.

Oggleton nods at Lius. "Thank you, Lenny."

Tohuu produces fake tears, dabbing at them with the massive hankerchief. She forces a smile as well.

Oggleton picks a spot where he can see everyone.

Mairèad inclines her head respectfully toward Oggleton as he approaches, freezing somewhat as she catches sight of Teach, but then just looking past him to Shepard.

Shépard smiles encouragingly, though he glances to Teach once before settling on Mairead.

Oggleton says: So. Respect, ya say? Respect's a terribly important part of being a paladin, of course. Top three, at least.
Oggleton says: Respect is one of the few things that seperate us from the animals. Like opposable thumbs, and tits what don't have fur on them.

Matteo stares straight ahead, trying not to listen to what the Colonel is saying.

Chadley 's head is bowed in respect, but he snorts.

Aveta doesn't really know much about paladins, so she maintains a smile and respectful silence!

Tohuu is trying so hard not to laugh.

Mairèad presses her lips together, also bowing her head in respect. Her cheeks flush, though, and she seems to be holding in a laugh.

Oggleton says: Anyway. All this talk about respect reminds of of this story.

Stehl taps the side of his helmet once.

Oggleton says: I was up in Dalaran, workin' with this fella by th' name of Antonidas.
Oggleton says: And damn, was his daughter ugly.

Lius flops back against the pillar, having to bite down on his lip to avoid laughing.

Aveta snatches up Lius' hat and places it on her head. It is sandwiched between antlers.

Tohuu covers her mouth with the hankerchief in order to stifle her giggling.

Oggleton says: Not just normal ugly, mind you. Moustache like one of them walrus-people, and fatter than...one of them walrus-people.

Mairèad covers her mouth with her hand, a quiet squeak escaping.

Oggleton says: Anyway, Antonidas keeps droppin' hints about how he's lookin' to marry her off.

Aveta is now a pirate.

Oggleton says: And I'm thinking, "Good luck with that one," of course, 'cause she looks like a walrus-person.
Oggleton says: As I had previous said.
Oggleton says: So, anyway, he invites me to dinner over at his mansion.

Stehl is shaking slightly.

Emirdelle tries to hold back her laugh as tears form on the corner of her eye.

Lius glances up to his lost hat, too busy avoiding laughter to care.

Chadley has, by now, lifted a hand to cover his face. He can't conceal his broad grin and suppressed laughter, though.

Ovrik listens with the attention and excitement of a seven year old child.

Oggleton says: Long story short, I wake up the next morning, pants completely gone.

Mairèad lets out a snort that she quickly tries to turn into a cough.

Tohuu manages a fake gasp in response to this.

Ovrik gasps.

Oggleton says: Never went back to Dalaran, but I heard later that they flew the city off to Northrend in shame of that girl's ugliness.

Emirdelle holds in her laugh, but gets hiccups in return.

Shépard is wearing a srs face. Yep.

Oggleton nods solemnly.

Chadley waits for the lesson.

Teach looks over at Shepard, "'n'people call me crazy."

Ovrik is -actually- taking this all very seriously. He awaits the lesson as well.

Chadley is going to be waiting a long time.

Shépard doesn't speak, and he doesn't even react. Still wearing the srs face, though.

Ovrik is very patient.

Oggleton says: And that's how I met Kael'thas Sunstrider.

Lius nearly loses it at this, he wedges himself between Aveta and the pillar, his face falling against her arm. Muffled laughter comes out.

Ovrik blinks.

Matteo says: Thank you, Colonel.

Oggleton grunts and walks back to his place. Speech over.

Chadley says: ...

Aveta bonks Lius' head.

Ovrik starts up hesitant clapping.

Tohuu claps excitedly.

Mairèad drops her hands to applaud, respectfully, but also more to cover up her giggling.

Ovrik 's clapping is lonely and awkward and echo- oh, no it's not!

Tohuu winks slyly at Ovrik.

Stehl taps the side of his helmet once and starts clapping briefly.

Chadley also claps. Slowly.

Ovrik blinks. Ceases clapping.

Matteo says: Moving onto the next speaker...

Mairèad coughs and regains her composure. "Th'next speech is on tenacity and will be presented by Stehl." She does not call him Stehlfire because srs event is srs.

Stehl says: ... S'my turn, yes?

Chadley looks at Stehl.

Lius has managed to stop his laughter, but can't quite gather himself enough to clap. His entire body is shaking, tears forming in his eyes.

Matteo says: Aye.

Ovrik leans over to Lius and whispers loudly. "...are you quite okay?"

Stehl says: ... Well, I had something prepared with Rosa speaking before me in mind. But. That last... 'speech' completely ruined the set-up. So.

Lius gives Ovrik a thumbs up.

Ovrik doesn't realize that this question is probably rhetorical.

Oggleton nods. "Always been a hard act to follow, my boy."

Stehl says: So, I'll keep this brief. What is tenacity to all of you? To some, it's simply being able to continue something you've started. Admirable enough, not everybody seems to be capable of that. But what does it mean to one of us? Is it just that?

Ovrik resists an urge to take notes.

Stehl says: No. To uphold the word of the Light, we must endure beyond the ordinary. Hell, beyond even the extraordinary. Even if our bones break and our armor crumbles we must persevere in all endeavors.
Stehl says: And should we find ourselves alone in the darkness? If we find ourselves unworthy of the gift granted to us? We shall not fail to keep pressing onward, for that is what we are. The nameless, faceless protectors of the innocent and of our faith.
Stehl says: I'm also a terrible liar, and that was kind of long.
Stehl leans against the pillar again, folding his arms.

Chadley slow-claps at this as well, though it's distinguishable from the previous clapping as genuine.

Mairèad smiles brightly and also applauds this speech, nodding at Stehl and mouthing "thank you."

Ovrik dabs.

Matteo says: Thank you, sir Stehl.

Shépard claps. That is all.

Mairèad says: Th'last speech is on compassion, presented by Chadley Fairdale.

Tohuu claps as well.

Chadley looks around nervously as he approaches the front. He turns around and coughs, trying for a smile. "Guess I'm the only one with a speech wrote up, huh? I, uh- well. Here goes."

Emirdelle taps Ovrik's hand. "Use my uh...Cloak."

Chadley looks at his crumpled paper.

Ovrik positively beams.
Ovrik shakes his head, still smiling. There is a third handkerchief in his massive hand, and it's being put to good use!

Chadley swallows and begins to read aloud. "Of the three virtues, compassion is the least often understood. It's not that it's hindered by personal ideals, but that all-too-often people allow it to -dominate- their ideals."
Chadley says: Compassion is a gift that must be welcomed by someone, not placed upon them. As a paladin, you are equal parts justice and mercy, and it can be easy to blindly focus on one as it is the other.
Chadley pauses, swallowing again.
Chadley says: By accepting these honors, this ordination, a paladin accepts the responsibility to do what's right, regardless of ideal. They demonstrate the courage to know when to show compassion toward even those that have not earned their respect, as well as the ability to act when that compassion is taken for granted.
Chadley says: ... Compassion is universally deserved. The greatest responsibility is knowing when and how to deliver it.
Chadley crumples his paper and walks back.

Orgo claps. Nice and short.

Matteo smiles, "Thank you, mister Fairdale."

Mairèad grins widely at Chadley and claps for him as well, nodding encouragingly.

Ovrik smiles widely. Clap. Clap.

Tohuu claps after the speech. She actually smiles at this.

Chadley looks kind of like he wants to die.

Stehl belated clap.

Shépard clap.

Ovrik claps, rather loudly. It echoes like a gunshot and his head sinks into his shoulders, that droop.
Ovrik shivers.

Chadley jumps.

Shépard snickers at Ovrik.

Matteo looks at Shepard, "I believe you are to sing a hymn, Mister Lovells?"

Shépard says: Hm? Ah, right. Uh-huh.

Tohuu glances over behind her, an irritated look on her face.]

Orgo finds his flask. Empties it. Pulls out another.

Mairèad jumps a little at Ovrik's clap but smiles at him just the same.

Matteo says: Please, come forward.

Lius nudges Orgo with his foot. "Sarn't?" He pleads, nodding towards the flask.

Ovrik looks like the world itself just exiled him from its surface.

Shépard quietly shuffles forwards, fingers busy fiddling with a device strapped around his neck - a decidedly human voice echoes out. "Hold on, hold on..."

Chadley blinks at Shépard.

Orgo finds yet another flask, and passes it to Lius. Strong shit, bro.

Shépard clears his throat, relaxes the muscles, takes one last look to Mairead... then quietly begins the hymn, singing with clear experience.
Shépard says: Nearer, O Light, to Thee, nearer to Thee! E’en though it be a trial that raiseth me, still all my song shall be, nearer, O Light, to Thee.

Lius begins to drink as fast as possible.

Shépard says: Nearer, O Light, to Thee, nearer to Thee!

Ovrik clasps his hands across his heart. Smiles widely.

Shépard says: Though like the wanderer, the sun gone down, darkness be over me, my rest a stone. Yet in my dreams I’d be nearer, O Light, to Thee.
Shépard says: Nearer, O Light, to Thee, nearer to Thee!

Tohuu folds her arms across her chest, listening to the song.

Shépard says: And, if on joyful wing cleaving the sky, sun, moon, and stars forgot, upward I’ll fly, still all my song shall be, nearer, O Light, to Thee.
Shépard says: Nearer, O Light, to Thee, nearer to Thee!
Shépard coughs into his fist, signaling the end. As quickly as he shuffled forward, he shuffles back to his original spot.

Matteo says: Thank you, Mister Lovells.

Shépard says: Mm.

Mairèad grins at Shepard, though her grin turns back into a nervous lip-biting as she glances back at Matteo.

Orgo drinks more. "That was...somethin'."

Chadley is quiet, though nods his head as Shepard finishes.

Matteo looks at Mairead, gesturing for her to step before him.

Mairèad steps before Matteo, turning to face him.

Matteo says: Do you, Mairead Isolde Lisa Fallon, vow to uphold the honor and codes of the paladins of the Holy Light?

Ovrik blinks rapidly, in disbelief.

Mairèad says: I do.

Matteo says: Do you vow to vanquish evil wherever it may be found, and protect the innocent with your very life?

Mairèad says: I do.

Matteo says: Brothers and sisters—you who have gathered here to bear witness—raise your hands and let the Light illuminate this woman.

Stehl raises his hands, a soft glow enveloping Mairead. No, it is not fire.

Aveta , despite not really understanding or being able to use the Light, raises her hand anyway. Nothing happens but, solidarity, man.

Emirdelle clasps her hands and utters a prayer for Mai.

Matteo lifts his hand--the one not holding his libram-- and adds to the light now surrounding Mairead.

Lius raises his hands awkwardly, swaying slightly. The flask remains clenched in one.

Orgo raises his hands, too. This is what Palerdins do?

Shépard raises a hand.

Chadley smiles and lifts his hands with an incline of his head. The Light comes to him and soon finds her, a glow surrounding her form.

Ovrik raises a single hand, peeling off the glove. It glows faintly.

Teach raises his hands, tearing up a little.

Tohuu bows her head and shuts her eyes.

Mairèad inclines her head respectfully and quietly, pressing her lips together. Matteo might notice tears tracking down her cheeks, looking all glowy and such.

Orgo had no way to contribute. Stupid hunters.

Matteo says: Arise, Mairead Isolde Lisa Fallon, Paladin-defender of Stormwind. Welcome to the order of the Holy Light.

Tohuu did her part.

Matteo closes his libram, returns it to his belt, and inclines his head to Mairead.

Chadley claps loudly now, cheering for his friend.

Mairèad looks up again, beaming. She throws her arms around Matteo's neck because to hell with formality!

Orgo claps happily.

Lius continues to stand with both hands in the air, unfocused eyes looking in the direction of the fresh palerdin. Finally, he fist pumps.

Matteo returns the hug.

Ovrik throws up a handful of petals! They're enchanted. They flow to the girl, gently.

Shépard claps along with Chadley, the biggest smile stretched across his face.

Emirdelle clasps her hands and smiles brightly.

Tohuu claps. A smile tugs at the corner of her mouth.

Mairèad has rose petals in her hair! She lets go of Matteo and smiles at him before turning to face everyone else and waving like an idiot.

Oliver, who's been watching at a distance the entire time, turns to leave with a grin.

Stehl claps. It sounds like a bunch of pans falling.

Oggleton also claps, whispering to Lius, "Wasn't listenin'. They married now?"

Lius nods to Oggleton, not hearing a word he said. "Aye, sir!"

Teach is crying, wiping his tears as manly as possible.

Matteo says: Again, I thank you all for attending.

Emirdelle looks around. "Time for feast?"

Aveta offers a bow to the group, and shifts into a bird. She flies away!

Ovrik raises a hand.

Mairèad says: Emi made food! Stick around and eat some if y'wanna!

Stehl says: You forgot one last thing, Matteo.

Ovrik says: D-diet.

Matteo says: Hm?

Emirdelle says: S'okay. There's fruit my draenei friend.

Stehl says: The part where we take the new paladin and toss her into the lake.

Mairèad blinks.

Matteo says: Oh, of course.
Matteo chuckles.

Mairèad says: What.

Stehl rushes forward. PORTAGE.

Ovrik gasps in horror.

Chadley says: We almost forgot.

Shépard says: I like this part.

Chadley says: Shit.

Orgo snorts.

Ovrik rushes over. HORRIFIED.

Orgo says: Palerdins.

Lius stumbles forward, always up for some portage action.

Ovrik looms.

Mairèad shrieks as she is suddenly surrounded by palerdins who want to throw her in the lake, though she's laughing.

Orgo says: Dammit, Doc! You throw my third-best flask inta th' lake, and I'll shoot ya again!

Stehl hoists her up and goes lake-ward. He's laughing, though it is slightly maniacal.

Chadley chases after, laughing his ass off.

Stehl yells: HEAVE.
Stehl heaves!

Lius attempts to help! As they approach the lake, a distant beep can be heard. His face falls into horror.

Ovrik waves his arms like a housewife that just set her pie on fire.

Chadley yells: HO!

Mairèad is tossed into the lake with a shriek!

Senkha, Oliver & Nialos: April 16

Macglynn says: Speakin' 'a vacation, it's vacation.

Sènkha says: Yes, yes it is.

Macglynn says: Whuttya wanna do?

Sènkha says: Hm. I'd...well. I mean. I know you don't want me poking around in your mind, so. That's out.

Macglynn says: It's... Ah'd not mind it, fer practice.

Sènkha frowns slightly and then lights up. "Wait, you need practice, too! Why don't you try it on me?"

Macglynn waves his hands. "No. Ain't gunna happen."

Sènkha says: Why not?

Nialos yells: Oi! I come to visit, and there ain't even a welcoming party?

Macglynn says: 'Cause y'know wh-

Sènkha yells: Dad?

Macglynn just stares at the door.

Nialos yells: No, I'm the tree- well. I guess they do talk, kind of.

Sènkha stands up...and nearly falls over, her legs are shaking so much. "--Light."

Macglynn gets up too. "Stay there. Ah kin get th' door."

Sènkha says: Right.
Sènkha sits back down.

Macglynn opens the door.

Nialos yells: This a bad time? I'll just- not be here.

Macglynn yells: Y'gunna come in, or y'gunna stand out there an' yell lahk a moron?

Nialos yells: ... Someone told me to wait!

Macglynn yells: Git th' hell in here.
Macglynn says: Lizards outsahd. Ah hope Emry don't fight 'im.

Nialos hops off his giant proto-drake, hitting its haunch. It flies away! "You have weird neighbors."

Macglynn says: Ain't met 'em yet.
Macglynn says: Welcome ta Surwich.
Macglynn grins.

Sènkha stays seated, though she's leaning forward in her seat and trying to get a look outside the door.

Nialos motions towards the door. "Erm, thanks! Was this, uh, a bad time? I didn't exactly mention this ahead of time."

Sènkha says: It's fine! Come on in! I'm just a little shaky's all. It's always a good time.
Sènkha says: ...unless we're-- well, never mind.

Nialos blinks, rolling the words around in his mouth. "I like saying 'time', huh...? And oh! Alright then."

Macglynn says: Senkha jus' became a knife.
Macglynn nods at Nialos.

Nialos says: She- what.

Sènkha says: I managed telekinesis.
Sènkha says: And also floating.

Nialos says: That's, uh. Really, really not normal for most people, I think.

Macglynn says: No, it really ain't, but y'kin color me impressed.

Nialos looks around the home, smiling. "This is very... Gilnean."

Sènkha says: Is it? Why are you lurking in the door, get in here.

Macglynn says: Gilnean settlement.

Sènkha is still leaning.
Sènkha leeeeeeeeeeeans.

Macglynn says: An' yeah, come in. Sit down.

Nialos says: Just. I'm not really used to Gilnean houses being so...
Nialos says: Not filled with bodies.

Macglynn says: Well'n COME IN an' fix that!

Nialos says: I am in!

Macglynn smacks Nialos upside the head.
Macglynn says: In more!

Nialos smacks Macglynn upside the head.
Nialos says: Happy?

Macglynn says: Better.

You smile at Nialos.
Sènkha says: Hi, Dad.

Nialos resumes looking around the home, smiling. "Hi there, dear- wow. You really did choose a fine one here."

Sènkha says: It's smaller than our house in Elwynn, but it's also...grander.
Sènkha says: I've never seen such high ceilings, except in Cathedrals or the Keep.

Nialos says: Gilnean. Gilneas and grand go together like... like...

Macglynn says: Gilneans seem t' take real pride in 'grandness'.

Nialos says: Dicks and Goldshire.

Macglynn says: Classy.
Macglynn fingerguns.

Nialos grunts. "Sorry. Been on the front too long, I guess."

Macglynn says: Well heck, y'lost somethin' there, 'cause y'jus' apahl'gized t'me 'bout not bein' classy.
Macglynn stares. Oliver, epitome of class.

Nialos chuckles heartily, switching his focus to Senkha. "So. A knife, huh?"

Sènkha indicates the knife on the table. "I'd show you again, but it's got me all worn out. Otherwise I'd be up there giving you a hug."
Sènkha says: Managed to shield myself from a brutal, if requested, assault. And then I floated. That was weird.

Nialos says: I- wait. What?

Macglynn says: Yeah, she spilled a bag 'a tricks or somethin'.

Sènkha reaches up and taps her temple lightly. She looks exhausted, though not in the same way she has since waking up--more in the "I just ran a fucking marathon" way. "I just started by trying to extend my inner wards outward and then moved on from there."

Nialos stares. Blankly. "Uh. Right."

Macglynn only gets it because he's bonded to her. It's okay, Nialos.

Sènkha says: It's...complicated. The good news is that this...mind stuff is good for more than just getting me kidnapped and almost dead.
Sènkha gives a thumbs up!

Nialos says: Really? Well, that's good. I'd hate to have to fight through hell again. Twice is enough.

Macglynn counts on his fingers. Has it really been only twice?

Nialos catches Oliver's counting, sighing. "Twice for me."

Sènkha frowns thoughtfully, apparently also counting inwardly. "...the pirates? Was that the first time?" she guesses.

Nialos shrugs, finally striding over towards Senkha. His arms are thrown open for a hug. "Not like it matters. For all my grumblings, I'd still punch Sargeras for you."

Macglynn 's hand drops and he shrugs as well. "Good news is it's been weeks since anythin' bad's happened."

Sènkha wraps her arms around Nialos' waist, hugging him tightly. "Actually, Dad, I'm really glad that you came. I wanted to write to you, but I hadn't gotten around to it yet."

Nialos snorts, returning the hug with equal effort. "Trust me, I've been getting enough. Orders this, orders that - not to mention that Shepard's letters have been pouring in like clockwork."
Nialos says: And really? A whole week? How has the world not ended again?

Sènkha says: I -think- that it's because we've had our comms off. That and only a few people know we're here.
Sènkha says: I was thinking...well. You know, it'd kind of be. I mean. I don't know if I asked before, because I might've been drunk. And it'd be mostly ceremonial at this point. But, um...
Sènkha drops her voice and speaks really quickly, "...I'dlikemymaidennametobeGarhelm."

Macglynn blinks at you.
Macglynn chuckles at you.

Nialos blinks, then looks back towards Oliver. "The hell did she say?"

Macglynn says: Ah dunno. Maybe y'should ask 'er ta repeat 'erself.

Sènkha 's cheeks are flushed, and she looks rather sheepish. "...I'd like my maiden name to be Garhelm. If, um. If that's alright with you. I know it's...well, legally pointless now. But, um. Well. It's the symbolism of the thing."

Nialos' gaze darts back to Senkha, something akin to shock apparent on his face. "... Wha- well. Sure!"

Sènkha says: Really?

Nialos says: Hah! Why not? You practically already are to begin with, like you said.
Nialos says: This, uh. This does mean, though, that you'd also have a new mother. Sort of.
Nialos says: Well, when we find her, I mean.

Macglynn wonders if Senkha has sparkleblood now.

Nialos thinks she doesn't need it; life's fucked up enough as it is.

Sènkha looks slightly wary at this. "Do you think she'd want me? And how's that going? I should be out there helping..."

Macglynn whispers: Vacation, Senkha.

Sènkha says: ...vacation. Right. Sorry.

Nialos snickers quietly, planting a kiss on Senkha's forehead. "She'd love you. Trust me. And, well. It's going... slowly. But surely."

Sènkha says: ...my own mother was pretty awful, and Alma sounds great. So. A new mother would -not- be a bad thing at all.

Nialos says: Well then! It's settled. ... Wait, how does this even work.

Sènkha frowns slightly. "Well. I think now, it'd be mostly ceremonial, but we could go in to Stormwind and have it made legal and all that."

Nialos says: Hmm. Best hold off, then.

Sènkha says: Yes. But when we go back.

Nialos says: From what I heard on that damn comm, city's not the best place- and yes, yes. First thing.

Sènkha says: Mm, were you listening during the trial? ...no, I shouldn't care, I really shouldn't.

Nialos says: Nah, I just caught the end. Nothin' your boys and girls can't handle, I'm sure.

Macglynn says: Whut th' hell is goin' on out there?

Sènkha says: ...we really do have odd neighbors, don't we.

Nialos says: Stupid.

Macglynn opens the door and peers outside.
Macglynn closes the door, shrugging.
Macglynn says: Hell if Ah know.

Sènkha says: I think we've more bizarre neighbors than we realize. But I think we're also pretty well-liked because we supply eggs and also dead demons.

Nialos steps off to the side. He decides to lean against the table with a smile. "Dead demons, huh?"

Macglynn says: Th' forest is full 'a demons. Whole damn area is. Ah kill 'em.

Nialos gives Oliver a thumbs up! "Good! ... Wait, when did this forest even sprout up?"
Nialos says: I sure as hell don't remember it.

Macglynn shrugs. Who knows?
Macglynn says: No clue!

Nialos says: Delightful!
Nialos says: Random forests, demons... it's almost like the wars again.

Sènkha says: It's probably been here a while, just got found again after the Cataclysm. Dad, you should spend the night and you two should go out hunting in the morning.
Sènkha smiles up at Oliver fondly. "I've not seen Oliver looking this healthy--mostly--since I met him."

Macglynn says: It's true. Y'don't feel lahk a jackass fer killin' demons.

Nialos says: Well. Guess I could spend the night. But.

Sènkha says: But?

Nialos says: The idea of a random forest? Reminds me of the Blackwald.

Sènkha says: What's the Blackwald?

Macglynn says: Th' whut na'?

Nialos says: It's an old, creepy forest back home in Gilneas. Kinda like this place.
Nialos says: Always... well, scared me. As a kid.

Sènkha says: I wish it wasn't a warzone. I wish I could see it for myself. Did you live close to it?

Nialos says: Fairly. Was fine during the day!

Macglynn says: ... Wait.

Nialos says: Then, uh. Then it wasn't during the night. Bunch of creepy buggers. And giant spiders.

Macglynn says: Was this th' place Shep's home was at?

Sènkha says: Oh wait, I -have- been there, haven't I? When Shepard ran off that one time.

Nialos says: Hm? What?

Macglynn says: Ah r'member a creepy forest, anyway. But Ah reckon they's ever'where.

Sènkha says: I can't remember why, but Shepard ran off to Gilneas. We ended up following him and that's when I found out that he's yours. Saw his old house, too.

Nialos says: Huh. Not much left of it.

Sènkha says: There isn't. Did you see the pages all over the place there?

Nialos says: Didn't pay much attention to that kind of thing. Was too busy cursin' up a storm.
Nialos says: Spent weeks buildin' that damn place... the door alone took days.
Nialos lets out a long, drawn-out sigh.

Macglynn says: This place makes y'think 'a home.

Nialos says: Before all this- this Forsaken business? Yeah.

Sènkha wrinkles her nose. "I hope that the Horde drops the pretense and that we can kill that Sylvanas bitch and put an end to all of this."
Sènkha says: I can almost see the argument they'd have for holding onto Lordaeron...most of them used to -live- there...but taking Gilneas?

Nialos says: Well, they ain't gettin' it without a fight. Gilneas has always been home to stubborn dogs. Now it's just a literal thing.

Macglynn chuckles.

Sènkha says: How's the fighting there?

Nialos says: Plague-y.
Nialos glances to Oliver. "Few of the Forsaken Knights have thrown their lot in with Sylvanas - had to put them down."

Macglynn says: She's taken a few 'a our Knights by force.

Sènkha says: ...can she -do- that?

Nialos says: Aye, I know. Heard about Koltira.
Nialos says: As for if she can... well. It hasn't gone unnoticed. Few grumblings in the Hold.

Macglynn says: Few's a unnerstatement.
Macglynn says: Thassarian's furious.

Nialos says: But, we're stuck in the same situation as the Crusade.

Sènkha says: ...weren't they lovers?
Sènkha says: Thassarian and Koltira? That was the rumor, anyway.

Macglynn blinks at you.
Macglynn says: Uh.

Nialos blinks, then cackles madly. "Oh- oh Light."
Nialos says: They'll never live that down, huh?

Macglynn laughs maniacally.
Macglynn says: Light, they says that outside 'a th' Hold, too?
Macglynn laughs.

Sènkha says: Well...I mean. We never knew for sure, you know, when we were stationed with the Ebon Blade in Icecrown. -That- was a cheerful lot, let me tell you.

Nialos quietly snickers to himself.

Sènkha says: But...-were- they?

Nialos says: We, uh. Don't know?

Macglynn says: Whut he said.

Sènkha says: Oh. I thought...I thought it was kind of like a hivemind collective thing.

Macglynn says: ...

Nialos says: Erm. Not quite.

Sènkha says: Oh.

Macglynn says: Ah'd hate t'be still stuck in a hivemind with most 'a those idiots.

Nialos says: The last link died with Arthas, thank the Light.

Sènkha says: Well, I mean before. That was the rumor. That they were lovers while they were in the Scourge and then it was the bad thing about being freed...the -only- bad thing. That they had to fight against each other.

Macglynn says: Th' skurge don't make rumors.
Macglynn stares you down.

Sènkha says: No, the Scourge didn't make the rumors, it's just what we heard.

Nialos says: Hah, well. It's- they're just very, very close.
Nialos says: It's a... rivalry.
Nialos looks at Macglynn.
Nialos says: Right?

Macglynn shrugs. "Ah never cared t' think about it."

Nialos shrugs. Who knows?

Sènkha says: ...huh.

Nialos says: Still waitin' to see what Thassarian will even do, though. Not like he's got a giant support group going for him.

Sènkha says: You mean in Andorhal?

Nialos says: Eh. It's complicated.
Nialos says: If we support him, the Horde will say we've gone Alliance solely. If we don't? Well. We just lose.
Nialos says: He can try rallying help from those who fought in Andorhal, but.
Nialos shrugs. Who knows?

Sènkha says: Well, obviously the Alliance supports him.

Macglynn says: Whut's worse is diplomacy risks more 'a us bein' forced t' her will.

Sènkha says: ...we should just set her on fire.

Macglynn says: But th' Ebon Blade kin't declare war on th' whole Horde.

Sènkha says: That will solve everything.
Sènkha says: Also it would be really funny.

Nialos quietly snickers to himself.

Macglynn smiles softly. "It would be."

Nialos says: Bet the Highlord is tearin' his hair out over this mess.

Macglynn sighs. "Ah'm 'bout ready ter."

Macglynn says: But fuck it. Vacation.

Nialos says: Enjoy it while it lasts, then.

Entrance to AQ and Kamazlek Fight

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!

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'.

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.

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.

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.