Cinnamon & Liotuse: July 2

Cinnamon isn’t really one used to having men in her bed, for love or any other reason. She’s only just gotten used to having an empty apartment for the first time since leaving Gilneas, and then suddenly, from nowhere, a bleeding Lio. Leo? Lio? Did it matter? To be sure, she feels like something of a creepy character from a creepier novel, keeping him in her apartment when nobody else knows where he is, but he said last night that he’d be gone by this morning, and Cinna wants to believe him.

So when she comes home after a long day’s work at the library, she fully expects the apartment to be empty, not even bothering to look at the bed. Her staff and bag clatter to the floor, mindless of any noisiness, and she even lets her hair down around her shoulders, massaging her neck. With any luck, Lio will have gone to the Square and she can check on him, make sure that his wounds haven’t reopened or anything.

Her luck was bad and she’ll most likely feel bad. Liotuse was in fact not in the Square nor was he even out of the house. But at one point it seems he accomplished getting out of the house to collect some things. There were two sets of clothes present now, one being on him. A plain white shirt and clean shorts. Maybe not much of a set, considering the two pairs of pants were instead folded and neatly placed at the foot of the bed amongst other garments.

The other important prize being a moderately sized dumbbell, stone weights set on it. It was in his left hand, burning through reps at a set pace but nothing too lazy. The right of course, arm still being damaged to a point, was neatly settled on his lap with a book in hand. All in all, Lio looked incredibly comfortable sitting next to the bed, back pressed against the wall with his legs stretched out. The bed? No bloody sheets in sight, fresh bedding set down and tightly. Military style.

Cinna doesn’t even notice Liotuse at first, still setting her things down. It’s not until she’s moved to start undoing her trousers that she turns around and sees her patient still sitting there and using a dumbbell and reading one of her books like he lives there or is a boyfriend or something. She can’t really help herself and lets out a shriek, jumping back and grabbing a coat from near the doorway to cover herself, as if she’s actually not wearing clothing.

“You’re... still here,” she observes after a moment, still hiding, half behind the coat and half behind a long, multicolored scarf. What in the Light’s name is up with this girl’s apartment? Between the ten million books, the dark wood, the coats and scarves, the tiny windows, the teapots, it has to be the strangest dwelling in all of Stormwind.

He makes a loud swear and winds up dropping the dumbbell onto his thigh. Thankfully not on the inside of it or else the bruise that’s sure to show up would be a little scarier to deal with. Liotuse is amazingly quick in removing it and setting aside with a loud thunk as he springs to his feet. Still unsteady as hell from yesterday’s events though, he’s not as hasty as could be with it and wobbles as he raises his left hand and the book in it.

“Sorry! Sorry. Yeah. I didn’t... mean. You know.” No elaboration. She might not know. He turns his torso some to toss the book back onto the bed. It was a ‘romantic’ sort of novel. ‘Romantic’. Lio doesn’t seem too bothered in reading it. More out of possible hilarity instead of actually getting into it. Nothing to say for it downstairs too with no manly protrusion to horrify her.

Cinna tries to regain some sense of composure, but this isn’t very easy, not when he’s still here and that was the opposite of what she expected. Her glasses continue to slide progressively further down her nose, threatening to fall right off, but she ignores them in favor of holding that multicolored scarf over most of her face. It’s kind of like an invisibility potion, right? Just...more colorful?

“You, um. You’ve been out and about at least,” she offers as a sort of truce with the awkwardness, nodding at the pants over on the foot of the bed. And the made bed. What the hell is with this strange man in her apartment and all his pants. “And you’re looking... I mean, your color’s looking much better, so I’d assume you’re, um. Feelin’ better?” Not that he can see it, but the inner kicking of Cinna’s is at an epic level right now.

His bottom lip is taken between his teeth, sucking in a small breath as he squints at somewhere above Cinna. “Enough to be more talkative and roll out of the... your bed.” Left hand flapping backwards to indicate it, still talking as he moves to the foot to collect a pair of pants and actually do a better job of covering his lower half. “I did go out. Blacked out once. My body’s still not cooperating a bit.”

A beautiful demonstration is given as he favors the left hand a majority more. Still, some progress can be seen even just for the night and day in terms of a recovery. Mostly being able to curl his fingers and grasp things. Like the rich, appealing fabric of his pants as the leggings were slowly drawn up to cloak those blazing hot limbs. Toned, trim tanned muscle. Could crush a melon between them, obviously.

“No, no! I mean...” Cinna lets the scarf drop, finally, revealing bright pink cheeks, more at her own awkwardness than anything else. She also finally pushes her glasses up on her nose, hazel eyes now magnified by thick lenses. “Well, you’re the one who’s hurt, so it’s only fair that if you’re going to stay here, you might as well sleep there. In the bed, I mean. Not on the chair. Unless that’s more comfortable.” She shuffles forward to try and actually make it seem like she’s coming in to her own home, but she also manages to bump her knee against several pieces of furniture as she goes, eliciting more than a few “bother”s along the way.

“And more to the point...” Cinna doesn’t quite look at those blazing hot limbs as she finally settles herself near the pillow of the bed. “Does anyone know you’re here? I... I don’t want your harem or a brigade of Cathedral Square lackeys to come arresting me for kidnappin’ you.”

A tug of his sleeves to hike and bunch them up on his biceps, a fold of his arms followed swiftly by leaning on half the wall and half a pile of books. Then he’s clear to relax somewhat, closing his eyes as if ready to nap there. “No, no. I’m... I know people are going to be concerned. Not to the point of a witch hunt. But. It’s better this way. For one.” Liotuse’sleft hand is used as an abacus, counting on it. “I know if I tell anyone what happened. They’ll go off to deal with it. Then get horribly would-be slaughtered like I was supposed to be.”

A small sigh at that. His big tell, if he were playing cards, that he cares more about his friends than himself. Selfless, an actual paladin trait he has. “Two. Letters could be intercepted. Tracked back probably. Then there’s only so much I can do to defend my injured self and you from killers.” Lio’s voice drops to something more sincere and honest to her, features settling some as his eyes open. “Three. If it is really okay for me. Until I’m covered. Enough to function well in combat. I already owe you more than enough. Might as well keep adding to my tab, huh?” The ghost of a smile, not a classic smirk, crosses his face.

Cinna smiles thoughtfully at this list. It’s quick and logical, perfect things for a paladin to worry about, and she appreciates the balanced concern for himself and others (herself included). “I couldn’t possibly keep a tab,” she answers, relaxing some. It helps to be in her own home, among her trappings and keepsakes. “You’d ring up a debt impossible to pay back and, anyway, it’s an old witch’s law not to require repayment for a saved life. But... but if you feel safer here, you’re welcome to stay as long as you need. Goldrinn knows...” She trails off, suddenly aware that she’s rambling.

“...are they that sort, then? The people who...you know, did this to you?” Cinna finally looks up at Liotuse, staring at some point in the center of his forehead because that’s easier.

He doesn’t seem to notice the pointedly nowhere-else-only-there watch on him even as his own gaze is tossed to Cinna. A quick look over of her, nothing perverted, is done. He’s only really seen her in something of a passing at the benches in the Square. Then the whole dying schtick. “I’ve had people do more for me for less, I’m sure. Just because we’re friends.” His back slides against the wall as he drags himself down to the floor, taking a seat once more. “And by ‘that sort’ do you mean ‘tyrannical’ and ‘villainous’? Then the answer is yes.”

Liotuse offers a sigh, pulling his knees up and resting his arms on them with hands clasped between. He blinks a moment and looks to her. “And I’m not psycho myself. Not trying to trick you or anything.”

Friends. Not something Cinna’s really used to since coming to Stormwind, and she’s not sure if he means the kind of friends that are actually friends or the kind of friends who know each other incidentally and then through strange circumstances, save each other’s lives. But either way, it works. “Mm, I meant more the type who order hits on people. You know, like in those crime stories. Or maybe you don’t have those in Stormwind. They’re a huge hit in Gilneas. Or. Were.”

“Though I suppose that would make them psychopaths, hm?” She takes to arranging the bulky quilts on the bed, fluffing the pillows, anything to keep her hands busy and away from her hair and face. “And...for the record, I didn’t think you were a psycho. A lech possibly, but not a psycho.”

“Oh no. It’s okay. They’re set up for that.” The dam springs a leak, some sarcasm taking advantage of the breech. “They’ve got more than a few shadow-walking folks to just show up. Blades and all.” His left hand pulls away from its twin to scrub at his face. For a moment, the bridge of his nose is taken between index and thumb. “...Thanks, Cinna. Really. For hauling me off. Mending. And letting me stay.”

The dam forms another crack, a chuckle slipping loose as he manages to revert somewhat to a more Liotuse state. “I’ve got two questions already. No. Wait. Three. Is there a Mister Cinna I have to be worried about? What specifically do I owe you? Annnd. Where in the Light’s name did you sleep last night?”

“Why would they order a hit on you? I mean, you seem like a reasonable person and all.” Cinna finishes fluffing the pillows and adjusting the quilts and now can do nothing more than fiddle with her boots and eventually remove them, mimicking Liotuse’s posture with her knees drawn up. “And it’s nothin’, really. I couldn’t let someone die, especially not there, and...” Well, she really has no reason for letting him stay beyond he’s right here and it’s rude to throw someone who’s right here back to the street.

And maybe a little he’s cute.

The paladin’s slow relaxation gives Cinna some ease as well, and her smile becomes much less nervous and more genuine. It’s a pretty smile, at that, and brings out dimples. “As you can see, the line of candidates for the position of ‘Mister Cinna’ goes practically all the way to Northrend, which is to say, no to the first. Second, you owe me nothing, like I told you, though if you stay more’n...well, we’ll say three months, I’ll start buggin’ you for rent. And third, in that chair. I think I dozed off with a teacup in m’hand.” She can’t help but let out a nervous giggle.

Liotuse’s hands clap together jokingly, snickering softly as he rubs them. “Good. Means I’ve got a head start, then.” Fingers weave together as his arms relax to let the clenched hands hang. He falls silent, though nothing negative shows on his face. Contemplative and thoughtful. “...Nah. I’d be gone before even two months. Not... that came off rude. Not that I don’t mind it for the under twenty four hours I’ve been awake and alert. I don’t think I’d be a burden for that long.”

The back of his head makes a nearly muted thump against the wall, resting it backwards. “I’ll sleep on the floor. You get the bed.” Said like a friendly but final order. “The whole chair thing wouldn’t work for either of us.”

Cinna doesn’t bother to argue against Liotuse’s head start comments, though she certainly thinks she could. “You aren’t a burden,” she decides to say, her smile becoming friendlier. “It’s just me living here with a bunch of books and teapots and things. And just as long as you don’t mind the herbs or get too excited about the tawdry books, you’re not a burden.” Her eyes light on the cover of the book Liotuse was reading earlier at the mention of “tawdry books” and she even dares to (gasp) wink at him.

“And anyway, the chair’s fine for me. Or...well, the floor, really. I’ll have to shift to keep warm, but I can do that better than you can, and anyway, I can handle the cold better at this point.” She wrinkles her nose to push her glasses up without hands. “I don’t want you to go into shock. That would just make me a terrible hostess.”

“Cinna. Doll. I live off of tea. Specifically green if you... have...” His words start to wander as well as his eyes as he looks around. Surely somewhere in the place will provide him with a physical example. “...It.” A small pause. That cause was abandoned far too quickly. The place was a little baffling to him and intimidating, if just for the volume of teaquipment and books.

“...Anyways. No. You. Are. Taking. The. Bed.” He smirks now to escort his words, looking a little too sly for a guest in her home. “I can help with the cold thing if that persists. But even cuddling in a somewhat still random woman’s bed would make me look like such a tramp.”

“Do you now?” Tea is something familiar for Cinna, obviously. “I do have some green tea, though I usually mix it with other herbs for different effects... pain soothing, mind focusing, and so on.” She stands and begins digging through a drawer, finally coming up with a small pouch of herbs: green tea and something that looks floral. “Something I brought from back home. The herbs there... they don’t dry as well, but I think our tea is good.”

Cinna slips the pouch into Liotuse’s hand before returning to the bed. “I could heat up a pot now, if you like, though it’s still rather warm out.”

Of course, it’s less that it’s warm out and more that she’s been confronted with a new challenge: a man in her bed while she is in her bed. She has to clear her throat several times before finally saying, in as grown up a voice as she can muster, “...I suppose we could just share, then. It’s not a small bed, after all, and we’re both adults.” Adults. Right. That’s... right. Yes.

The pouch is tossed between hand and hand. For about half of a second, unable to grab it in time with the right. He’ll get angry at the right one eventually, more blaming himself somehow instead of the man that drove the knife under the arm. Liotuse’s more functional hand reaches across to pluck up the pouch and flick it to the foot of Cinna’s bed, letting it flop next to his boots.

“Not too thirsty, really. And it’s more my... calm down or wake up thing. I’m pretty well off for the moment.” Alright. He’s bad at avoiding subjects at times when they aren’t dire or prone to causing turmoil. “I’m uh. Going to apologize in advance if I do any rolling over and smothering. Or an arm around you. Getting a little... snug.” A hand tips towards his lower-half. Referring to the almighty spooning. “Sleeping habits are hard to break after a serious relationship.”

“...But I’m on the floor. You. Bed.”

Cinna folds her arms across her chest, looking far sterner than anyone her age has a right to look. “Lio. Look. You almost bled out on this bed last night. I don’t mind sharing it with you, but I shan’t let you sleep on the floor, yeh? Not until it’s been at least a week that you’re recovered. We’ll just...divide things up somehow. Halvsies or something. Not a big deal.”

Of course, she isn’t looking at him as she says this. It’d betray her innate awkwardness over the situation, over the idea of having a man in her bed for the first time ever, and just in general. He doesn’t need that; he’s down an arm, gods’ sake.

It’s okay though. He has fingers he can use while she’s around. “That’s not how I work, damnit.” Cuss aside, he’s not legitimately bothered, features even and relaxed. “I’m bugged when people extend big -” It’s just a bed, Lio. “- courtesies like this. Taaake. Iiiit.” His left hand’s fingers snap to collect her attention. “And for Light’s sake. You’re obviously not completely comfortable with it.”

But Lio wouldn’t mind in all honesty. She was cute in turn and maybe the side-comment of something shallow like ‘hot’ could be tagged onto the side. Hair down and all. The spectacles? Maybe.

Cinna sighs and shakes her head. “Look, not like it’s gettin’ married or picking out window dressings. I’ll get over it. I’ll be fine.” She’s quietly and mentally going over her entire pyjama drawer, trying to remember which ones cover the most and which ones are the most lightweight for summertime sleeping. In a bed. With a man.

It’s a short list.

She finally looks back at Liotuse, tucking some hair behind her ear, though with the nature of her hair, it sticks up wildly and looks a bit like some draenish hairstyle rather than just some loose hair behind her ear. “Lio, I just... don’t feel right makin’ you take the floor. Please. You want a way to pay me back, take the bed. That’s how you can pay me back.”

His lips part, though doesn’t return anything to her involving passion. She’s stilled his tongue except only with words. A shame. Cinna got a bit of Liotuse points for throwing some sly his way with the tab he’s started.

“...Pants on or off?” Acceptance. But he’d make her pay for this through teasing and joking around. Will he ever get her back, if gradually. The bunched sleeves on his biceps are jerked on to bring the cuffs back down to his wrists, rolling his shoulders as he looks at her. Then realizes she needed to change. Two seconds to keep his eyes on her before Liotuse turns on a bare heel to stare in the completely opposite direction.

“On, please,” Cinna answers, almost too briskly, before adding, “I’ll let you know if you can ever take them off” even more briskly. And realizing this sounds more like an invitation than she means it to, she slips out of her leggings, vest, and blouse and into the kind of nightshirt and leggings combo that should only ever be allowed after people have been married for ten years. She also removes her glasses and has the quilts pulled all the way up to her neck before she manages to say, in a quiet voice, “Alright, all set.”

He keeps his back turned completely, even mustering the control to not even steal a peek. “I’ll start filing the documents for this tomorrow morning, I’m sure.” A hum and tap of his foot as she changes out of her clothes. Even with being informed on the crisis being cleared, Lio lets a few more moments pass before turning. A grin teases at his mouth as he sluggishly works off his shirt with his good hand. She didn’t say anything about that. Then it’s to the edge of the bed with him, slipping delicately underneath the quilt.

Then he’s wonderfully disrespectful and genuinely curious, lifting the quilt and peering down with what light was available. There’s a soft laugh at her choice of apparel before lowering the cover down. Liotuse is sure to keep at the very side of the bed and give her a hefty portion of it, looking ready to roll over and fall off.

Cinna makes a noise that’s halfway between a shriek and a growl with maybe a groan thrown in there for interest when Lio lifts the covers. “By the fang,” she hisses, holding more tightly to the quilt once he’s had his sneak peek. “If I wanted you to see my ratty sleepin’ clothes, I’d have changed in front of you.” Still, despite her blushing and despite her awkwardness, it’s pretty clear that she’s not really mad at him. She is, after all, smiling. Then again, that might also be because he seems to understand personal boundaries.

“Oh. And I promise not to punch you or anything if you do spontaneously get handsy while you’re sleepin’.” With that, Cinna turns over as if going to sleep. Of course, her eyes are wide open and remain that way for hours. And this close up, she smells pretty clearly of earth, flowers, and cinnamon. If he’s one to notice these things.

“You keep saying things that are digging you a deeper and deeper grave, Cinna. Thankfully.” A small shift could probably be felt by her as he settles a bit more onto the bed. “I’m a gentleman and don’t do anything without consent... beyond grabs. I’ll put that off too.” His eyes close and he just rests on his back, hands down by his sides. Reserved for her sake.

...Except his mouth keeps running. “I was sort of expecting black and lace, actually.”

Cinna raises her eyebrows, still facing the other way. “Do I seem like the black and lace type?” she asks, her voice rising sharply in pitch on the last word. She then coughs a few times, trying to cover up that particular faux pas. “I mean... in that regard, I suppose I should’ve been surprised to see you in simple shorts and not ladies’ hosiery when I came in. If we’re talking about expecting the unexpected, I mean.”

She lies quietly for a few minutes before eventually deciding that she’s comfortable enough to lie on her back and not try and sleep on a square inch of mattress. “Lio isn’t your full name, is it? Forgive me for sayin’ it, but you don’t really look like a Lio. Leo. However you prefer.”

He makes a little amused snort. “It’s hard for a woman to not pull off dark, lacy stuff. But you’d look...” His words trail off as he decides against getting evicted. “Cute in it, I’m sure. The hosiery is only if a woman really gets to know me. Special occasions and whatnot.” His right hand lazily flops over to his chest to rub at his collarbone as he drops the quilt to just above his waist. Comfier like that it seems as he goes still.

“L-I-O. But pronounce like Leo.” The question from her is remembered swiftly and answered accordingly. “Liotuse Antonio Bordeau. Cinna doesn’t sound like a full name either, darlin’.”

Cinna is very glad for the dim light to hide her now beet red cheeks, but even in this lighting, it’s clear that there’s more color in her face. Whether this is at being called “darlin’” or at the words about to come out of her mouth, however, is unclear. “...it isn’t. My parents... well, you see. Harvest witches and all. They’re earthy sorts. I have two younger sisters and one younger brother: the sisters are Saffron and Sage, and the brother is Basil.” She pauses and laughs, almost disbelievingly. “He’s the lucky one.”

A cough and some awkward shifting. She’s trying to get more comfortable without accidental touching, but on a bed this size, that’s nearly impossible. “...Cinnamon. Cinnamon Brighid Diggory.”

His right shoulder pulls in as he acknowledges the room issue, but quickly invades once more to nudge her arm. Then his left hand swings up and over, hovering somewhere above her and awaits for a shake from Cinna. He rolls onto his side and his eyes open. It would be amazingly creepy if Liotuse wasn’t the friendly fellow he was. Thankfully, he’s not all too bad. Hopefully in Cinna’s eyes too as he rests his gaze easily on the side of her head.

“Cinnamon. Yeah I think I’m spot on with the ‘cute’ thing. Especially if it was the theme with your siblings.” A smile brightens his face as he rests his right arm down a little closer to her. Trespassing might be in the near future.

That Lio hasn’t fallen out of the bed laughing at her name is enough for Cinna to decide that he is not, in fact, amazingly creepy. Just slightly. She reaches up to shake his hand. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Her voice hints at something of a giggle behind the words, and some of that giggle escapes as he calls her cute. She’s inwardly kicking herself, and this shows outwardly in her muttering something that sounds like “get a grip” before rolling over herself, facing her new roommate.

“Yeh, it was cute as long as we didn’t attend the village school, but you know how kids can be. I only attended for a few years before my parents decided to teach us at home, but I don’t think a week went by without someone trying to lick my cheek or something.” Her own grin is slanted, if increasingly relaxed.

Because lying on the side totally dampers the effect of a handshake somehow, he makes sure it’s a hearty and friendly one. As if a gentleman having the honor of being introduced to a lady, the hand is taken to Lio’s mouth and the back of Cinna’s hand is bestowed a most elegant kiss. “A pleasure indeed.”

He neatly settles her hand back underneath the quilt and gives it a pat, ensuring its safe-keeping. “Licking... your cheek.” His face goes deadpan with a glint of amusement in his eyes. “...Lewd and obvious. But. You taste good, huh?” A brow arches as he looks down the... quilt. Not like it was much different than if it weren’t in the way due to her choice of clothes for sleeping.

If this girl was blushing any harder, she’d be leaking blood out her cheeks. Cinna falters for a moment, unsure whether to draw her hand back to the safety of Her Side of the bed or just leave it where it is. She opts for the latter, drumming her fingers somewhat neurotically. “I’ve no idea how I taste, honestly. I simply try to wear cinnamon essence because...well, it’s appropriate, for one, and for two, it helps when deaders or other foul-smelling things are nearby. I mean, not that they can’t be decent individuals, but when your sense of smell is enhanced with that bloody curse, just about anything helps. With the smell, I mean. Not the curse.”

She’s still on her side, watching Lio, because he’s new and interesting and in her bed, what the hell. This reminder is enough to stop her ramble and she shrugs. “Well, you know how kids can be. I doubt they even thought of any other implications.”

Admittedly. He was and enjoyed it there. Twas a comfortable and masterful bed. Her being not hard on the eyes always helped sway the guy too. But on the other hand. Those pajamas, man. Them jammies. “Which I get, yeah. Because they’re all innocent and such. Unfortunately. Hey. I’m Liotuse.” He repeats, tweaking his voice some to have a smooth refined edge. It was the sound of a dapper, dashing middle aged gentleman smoothly running the flat of an elegant blade along a woman’s collarbone. She gives an amused titter and allows him to part one of the two strings of her bra from the primary covering. All with a flick of his wrist to sever the thing with his blade. They both share a small, knowing smile and some brandy.

That’s how Liotuse tries to make his voice. “And I have other implications. Even with this technically being a first date.”

“Date?!” Somewhere, in the back of Cinna’s mind, there is a list of things she didn’t expect Lio to say. Among those things are “I am the Lich King” and “have you ever wondered if our lives are being controlled by small gods in another world sitting at mechanical devices?” and “would you like fries with that?”

And “first date.”

So shocked is Cinna at these words that the witty banter, if they could indeed call it that, comes to a screeching halt and she just stares.

He actually flinches when the word is tossed back to him. She might as well have slapped him. Over the ears. It felt like that anyways with the exclaimation it was. “Easy, easy! I’m kidding. Kidding. That’s it. Harmless joking. I don’t follow through. Er. Without consent.”

Lio’s face is just slowly turning into ash. Ever digging himself into a deeper, stupid hole. Filled with stupid of course. “You’re lovely and all but I sort of am the one owing you and don’t exactly need that fulfillment because I’m sort of our of condition at the moment. Or. Something. Plus I am sure you are fine without sex even if that were to be a request of yours in how I pay you back.”

“...I’ll stop talking.”

Cinna can’t quite hide her awkwardness now, shuffling under the covers. Her hand still hasn’t moved from where he left if, but she’s drumming her fingers doubletime now. It’s almost a twitch at this point. “...it’s not that,” she finally says, her voice a lot quieter than it was before. “I’m not offended or anything, merely surprised. You’re...remarkably attractive, but a girl like me doesn’t stand a chance with someone like you, so I never even considered thinking of you as more than ‘that funny man with the thing about lampposts.’”

“...and anyway, I’ve never even been kissed before, so requesting sex as repayment is entirely out of the question. Not that I don’t know the positives and negatives of such a thing, but...” There’s more awkward fiddling under the quilt, mostly Cinna trying to get her hand to stop. moving.

“Diseases if you aren’t careful. If the other person isn’t clean downstairs and all. Bruising if the couple decides to really get into the swing of things. Positives is like... a high. Afterglow. And... kids could be a negative or a positive. It just involves playing safe.” A moment’s pause. Forgetting something that would and should be typically obvious. “Or. Y’know.” No she doesn’t, Lio. “Sheepskin or one of those fancy concoctions.”

Lio’s eyes narrow and he gives a slight ‘bah’ under his breath. “Listen. That whole... league. Idea. Is silly. Anybody can get anybody it just takes effort. Firsts are supposed to be special though!” He pretty much chirps this. “I’m just some bloody bum. Literally, yesterday. There’s a Mister Right or Miss Right out there for everyone. To take their hand, virginity and kiss-virginity.” Both eyes of his narrow as he thinks on that. “Except everyone steals and the like, because it’s rare that the person you stay with is the one for firsts like that.”

“Or potions. I know, my mother used to brew them and I brew them now.” Cinna relaxes again, though she’s not entirely sure why. Something about the man sharing her bed (oh yeah, there’s that anxiety) has put her entirely at ease, despite the conversation topic. “No, I know how sex works. I know... well. I’ve read mountains of books on the subject. Not that I’m perverted or anything, but I like to read. About everything. As you can likely tell.” Another cough, sort of clearing her thoughts and the air.

“And I mostly say that having seen the women who seem to follow you everywhere you go. They’re... well. Lithe, lovely, and very flirtatious. I can’t see why someone like you would give someone like me a second glance... which isn’t a bad thing! I mean, tastes are tastes and all. Just it didn’t seem prudent to feel wistful over you.” She looks Lio over again, quietly. “Though...well. Yes.”

“No, no. I can tell.” He agrees with a soft, warm laugh. “Means you’re well versed. Just not experienced. Which... can be a sort of deciding factor in things. But who knows with some people.”

A few moments pass as he falls silent with a small smile from her and the conversation he was thoroughly enjoying. Shared in a bed with the woman. All was well. “...Yeah. A few of them are all like that. Easy on the eyes. Fair. Because I’m amazing like that and this is totally possible. To uh... say in front of you. It’d be interesting having a time with each one.” Lio’s stare is awkward for a moment.

“...Anyways. I don’t want to horribly relate these two. But you and your mother brewing those aside and my suggestive joke discarded. You ever cuddled with anyone?” A brow rises, the unease from his own dumb words slowly pushed away.

Cinna tilts her head against the pillow, pursing her lips. “Not really,” she admits. “...I shan’t lie and say that I’ve wished for it before, but well. That can get painful.” And realizing this is dirty laundry and he probably doesn’t care about the secret life of this wallflower, she stops there. “I haven’t cuddled before, no.”

His left hand rises to gesture to... the quilt? No. The woman beneath it. Lio clears his throat gently before speaking. “Mind if I? It’s not so bad, really. Winds up being comfortable and a little warmer than any sort of blanket. You can slap me if you feel anything suspicious or if I start grinding.” The prod of humor being punctuated by a grin.

“Well!” Cinna is at a loss for words for a long moment. Her eyes dart from Lio’s face to his figure and back to his face. Then to the quilt. Then to the chair, almost wistfully. And then back to his face. Her voice carries more seriousness than his at this point. “And what happens if this strikes a chord for me and makes me feel something for you? And when you recover and leave and return to your willowy harem?”

“...It’d be more to the bench than anything.” Even though he didn’t rush through the statement. It was a little too fast for his tastes. Didn’t leave him much thinking time. “Do a little experiment here and there. Make sure I make mysterious, alluring visits during the night now and then.” He skips a beat. “Wonder if I can settle down a little more.”

Cinna tilts her head to the side again, though this time, it’s accompanied with a slanted grin. “I mean no offense askin’, Lio. You’re a decidedly charming roommate and I am very glad that I saved your life. But... I don’t want to risk getting my heart broken.” She hesitates another beat before adding, “...though one night probably won’t completely destroy everything ever. Just... please be...” She makes a whining sound; the word she’s looking for isn’t the one she uses. “...be gentle. With my heart, I mean. With me.”

“It’s a lovely heart considering it didn’t leave me facedown in a puddle of my own blood. Mmmaaaybe I shouldn’t manage too much, lest I mess up. Stumble over myself and risk damaging it.” A brief frown, looking a bit disappointed. In himself, considering she’s been nothing but sweet and the like to him. “Tampering and feeling like I’m pressing the issue. Leave some claims to another guy or something.”

Awkward. Lio shifts some and rolls mostly onto his back, still angling himself somewhat in Cinna’s direction.

Cinna hesitates once more and then moves that hand under the covers until it finds Lio’s hand there. Considering her lack of experience, this is tantamount to straddling him and calling him Papi or something else similarly disturbing. As it is, she simply rests her hand on top of his, fingers still moving idly. “I appreciate it. It... it means a lot. That you’re not takin’ advantage of the situation, I mean.”

The hand is adjusted, but the severely lacking movement might as well have been nonexistant. Liotuse nods once and smiles anew. It’s friendly all over again and bright. “The temptation to use force might have added a little spice to things. But even if my armor isn’t glowing and all. I wouldn’t have much of a right to wear it after.”

“...Plus I’m a little above crying about how much I’m aching and sore until I get some sex as an amazing distraction. I can deal.” Even winking to Cinna now, back in a comfort zone.

Cinna is very glad to be back in this comfort zone, shifting again under the covers until she, too, is mostly on her back. Hand still in place. “Mm, even if I was the type to give myself to men as a distraction, I doubt I’d be good enough to really distract. You’d probably wish you were readin’ that book again.” She’s back to smiling, though now it’s more at the ceiling and the collection of hanging doodads up there.

“You said something earlier about a serious relationship?” she asks after a moment’s pause, trying to balance her curiosity with the knowledge that maybe some people don’t like telling these stories, Cinna.

“Year-long relationship ending with an elongated engagement. Shit got in the way. The roaring flames of love were stomped on.” A sigh through his nose. This topic. Always repeated. Do not want repeat and explanation with ladies.

Being Liotuse though. It’s amazingly easy for him to try and misdirect the topic with Cinna, tweaking his hand enough to make a bowl shape to cup hers some. “You’d be surprised and... possibly enjoy a man just keeping a woman down and in place. While he just goes all the way. It’s a lovely sort of thing and leaves the guy focused intensely. With the added benefit of him being wonderfully exhausted after.”

“I am not having sex with you tonight,” Cinna says in that hilariously serious voice, though she turns her hand over in Lio’s, ending with their fingers linked. “And I’m sorry to bring it up. That was very stupid of me. Just... curiosity killing the cat, I suppose.” Her voice has brightened again, kind of like a kitten clawing the shit out of your hand and then purring against it.

Knowing he wants the topic changed. Being a gracious bed hostess. Cinna tries again. “So what do you do when you aren’t collectin’ a harem or getting stabbed or trying to seduce healers?”

“Well shoot I am going to pack my things and leave n-...” He trails off. Well. That was certainly different and actually rather touching. Cinna’s fingers aren’t left too alone in the effort, Lio curling his between hers and clasping hands in full. “...Leave now. That or pass on overnight because I am still recovering and the cold from no intimacy, not even cuddling, will have taken its toll.”

The smile remains on his face even as his eyes close and he hums contently for a second. “...Heal myself, actually. Socialize. Or obliterate things while screaming and foaming about the Alliance, of course. Beyond that my agenda is... average.”

Cinna has to catch her breath a second at the sudden linked hands, less because it’s new for her (which it is) and more because...well, it was more touching than she expected it to be. She doesn’t pull away any and actually rolls onto her side again, facing Lio. “Average means different things for different people. Average for me is an entire day spent puttin’ books back together in the library and takin’ home the ones they don’t want anymore, but I’ll bet you don’t do that.”

“Oh. And cards and practicing with herbs,” she adds after a beat. It’s now definitely dark enough that he can’t see the color in her cheeks and might even miss that she’s taken the opportunity of a dark room and superior eyesight to finally give him more than a quick glance.

And so, Liotuse relaxes there to be oblivious to the check performed on him. Sort of asking for it with his torso bare. It was more of a spur of the moment to get a reaction sort of thing, so he was all used against his will and such. “I don’t. But it doesn’t sound horribly outlandish to me. Means you’re a smart, well learned and intelligent woman. Clever comes into play as well during cards. Unless you’re utter crap like me.”

“Herbs was... sort of a given. With the performance done on my wounds and inklings of ‘you can do naughty things in me and we’re good’ elixirs that were passed down, apparently.” The last? It would just be impossible for the man to do without a smirk and squeeze of her hand. For good measure.

Cinna is surprised at how easily she returns the squeeze, smiling at him as well, even though he can’t see it. “Not those kinds of cards,” she corrects quickly. “You’ll likely think it’s ridiculous, though... most people do.” She doesn’t offer up much more on the subject of cards, instead turning to outlandish average lives.

“See, it’s entirely normal to me to go through those steps, but I’m certain you’d find a day in my life rather peculiar, just as I’d find a day in your life the same sort of strange.”

Liotuse’s face lightens a bit as he feels her return it. “Like... the fortune cards? Hm. Always gives me chills up the spine when I just... listen.” He works a shoulder and then the other as he lets himself sink into the bedding, lazily flapping a hand out to work the quilt’s edge up higher. Not only over him but her as well. Maybe he’s a little too quick on being so at ease with her, so comfortable to dote like this. The harlot he is.

“It sounds charmingly plain enough. Where my stuff when it gets a bit more excitable maybe is just... flat out dangerous.”

“Like being nearly stabbed to death on parapets?” Cinna asks with a smirk. The quilt-adjusting is accompanied, on her part, by an attempt at snuggling under the quilt without getting closer to Lio, and this half works--she’s more comfortable and decidedly snugglier, but she’s also decidedly closer. Still not so close that things are about to get weird, but closer. She also gives his hand another inadvertent squeeze during this whole snuggling process because bed sharing: how does it fucking work?

Once all that is done (which really only took about half a second), she continues. “Yes, fortune cards. It’s... well, most people think they’re a bit silly. And they are an imperfect art, but...” A shrug, one that he can probably feel more than see.

“Something like that.” The answer’s honest, immediate and light-hearted despite the subject matter. He’s the guy that can laugh off being stabbed twice and slashed across the neck. Oh so casually does his thumb brush at Cinna’s hand though, making a content Liotuse-sigh as he settles with all that hard work done. Charming ladies through the slight nuance of caring about their bed-state. Through quilt interaction. A most difficult task.

“Imperfect as in...? Hard to get right all the time? Sorry for the dumb questions... you know. I just hit things.” The corners of his mouth lift in a smile. “So you’re the professional here.”

Cinna shivers at dat thumb brushing and immediately blushes from that, too. It’s like this girl’s blood is hard-wired to go flooding straight to her cheeks at the slightest provocation. “Imperfect as in it’s reading symbols. See...” She shifts to bring her free hand out from under the covers, gesturing with it pointlessly because it’s not like Lio can see her gestures or like they mean anything. “The cards have images on them. Symbols. When I read them, I interpret the symbols and can divine the future that way. It works very well when I’m reading for myself, but when I’m reading for someone I don’t know...”

Cinna shrugs and drops her hand, inadvertently letting it land on Lio’s chest for half a second before drawing it back like his chest is made of BEES. “Well. If it’s a good fortune, they’re usually rather happy. If it’s not good, they tell me I’m mad and storm off without even leavin’ a tip.”

Stehl, Liotuse, & Chadley: April 18

Stehl says: Guess what tiiiiime it iiiiiis.

Chadley sits on the bench with his head low, hands held above his lap. A pale holy aura coils faintly around him, and his eyes are closed in meditation. He seems to ignore Stehl.

Stehl sounds way too cheeful. He should be shot.
Stehl shuffles closer.

Líotuse says: You should get a bucket of lava.
Líotuse says: And throw it on him.

Stehl squats down so he's eye to eye with Chadley.

Chadley 's eyes open and the aura fades. He flattens his brows. "Hi."

Stehl says: Hey. You ready to punch things.

Chadley says: I think you saw to it yesterday that my arms won't work for a week.

Stehl says: Too bad! Up with you.

Líotuse says: Make them work.
Líotuse grins, waving to Chadley. Even if he doesn't know him.

Chadley pushes himself up from the bench with a groan and follows stiffly after Stehl. He looks at Liotuse. He doesn't wave back, just gives that same flat look.

Líotuse wilts like a flower.
Líotuse says: ...Stehl would it be too much if I went to find Cet and bother him?

Stehl says: Yes.

Líotuse says: Darn.
Líotuse says: ...Also I'm following you two.

Chadley says: Where are we-

Stehl says: See this tree?

Chadley says: ... Yes?

Stehl says: How do you feel about hitting it.

Chadley says: Do my feelings on the subject actually matter?

Stehl says: Only slightly.
Stehl says: I'm going to have you punch something.

Líotuse clears his throat and makes a point of going to the mailbox.

Chadley says: I can't say I've much interest in punching a tree.

Stehl says: What do you have interest in punching.
Stehl says: Hold that thought.

Chadley says: ...

Líotuse says: Moment.

Chadley says: Forsaken work.

Stehl says: Okay!
Stehl says: Let's go get one.

Ephie dies.

Líotuse spits on Ephie.

Castell growls menacingly.

Stehl says: Begin the punchening.

Castell growls menacingly at Stehl.

You stare Ephie down.

Stehl says: No, my squire needs that. To hit it.
Stehl says: Repeatedly.

Castell tells Stehl NO. Not going to happen.

Líotuse says: ...I'm sad to say I've seen weirder things than a naked worgen defending an undead.

Chadley says: Should I punch the dog, too?

Castell growls menacingly at you.

Stehl says: Should you?

Líotuse says: The dog means yes.
Líotuse says: Follow Stehl's teachings. Everything can. And should be punched.

Stehl says: We need a new thing to punch.

Líotuse says: Bye.

Stehl says: What, why.

Chadley approaches the corpse and prods it with his foot. "Well. Uh. Okay then." He looks at Stehl.

Líotuse says: You'll have me punched.

Castell growls menacingly at you.

Stehl says: Not at all.

Castell barks at you.

Líotuse says: Liar.

Stehl says: Besides. Chadley's a wimp.

Líotuse stares you down.

Stehl says: You can punch back.

You let out a long, drawn-out sigh.

Stehl says: Do it, for the Alliance.

Chadley looks back down at the Forsaken corpse, grimacing.

Líotuse says: He seems distracted.

Stehl says: Boy!

Chadley says: Not that distracted.

Líotuse says: ...Shit I've been caught.

Stehl says: Hit this man. It's okay, he's kind of like a paladin.

Líotuse tries to pop Chadley on the middle of his tabard anyways with a weak left straight.

Chadley is popped in the stomach. He may have been turned around, but he still wasn't paying the most attention. He staggers back once, coughs, and frowns. "Fine, dammit!"

Líotuse says: Wait was he supposed to start or me.
Líotuse says: I'm bad at this.

Chadley aims a punch for Lio's face as he's turned.

Líotuse gets Chadley's curled gauntlet on the right side, eyes scrunching up as he takes a step forward with it. "-Ow-."

Stehl says: Quickly. Don't take that shit.

Chadley is already aiming for another. Think fast, Lio!

Líotuse says: I should consider removing my cast and getting into my armour. But I'll bite.
Líotuse pivots low suddenly, swinging around and leading with his left foot. What little momentum is built is thrown into a left uppercut for Chadley's gut again. Might as well keep that going.

Chadley tries to block it with his elbow, but isn't quite fast enough. His elbow is instead brought down on Lio's extended arm. He oofs as his fist contacts his gut and gives a wild left swing in response.

Líotuse has his left arm batted aside a moment and catches Chadley's own responding left in his vision. His right arm is jerked up for an awkward block. It doesn't work as well as it did in his head, Chadley's response glancing off the front of his cast and smacking into Lio's head, trying to take a step back to gather some distance.

Stehl says: ... This is beautiful. My minions dance to the mad tune I play. Which is really just me yelling 'PUNCH. PUNCH HARDER.'

Chadley doesn't allow for distance. He steps forward in tune and balls both of his fists, recklessly swinging at the man. As Stehl goads them on, he growls, "My arms -don't work-."

Stehl says: Make them work!

Líotuse curls his arms and draws them up to guard his head from each blow, forearms taking the punishment. His preferred right leg snaps up and over to go for Chadley's... gut. Again. At the same time he sort of throws Stehl's orders about punching out the window.

Stehl says: He has a cast on, hit him harder!

Chadley is winded as the knee slams into his gut, unguarded. A snarl of frustration and his arm swings out, elbow aimed straight for Lio's neck.

Wintersedge hugs Ephie.
Wintersedge says: Poor Ephie...

Líotuse says: Not really, no. This is what a Forsaken gets by running into the city.

Stehl says: Knock knock, who's there, THE ALLIANCE.

Mandragoras says: That's damn right.

Wintersedge says: Someday maybe we can cure her.

Mandragoras says: Cure her? She's a Forsaken.

Stehl says: Cure her of existing.
Stehl says: Punch more, monkies.
Stehl says: Strength through adversity! Keep it up!

Líotuse was peering between his forearms this whole time. And tries his best to pull back. All he does is mitigate it by managing to hop back -after- the elbow taps firmly into his throat, sending Lio into a coughing fit and lowering his arms a bit.

Chadley makes a sound that almost seems pained when he does this, but takes advantage of the opening by charging forward again with another flurry of noodle-fists.

Líotuse makes a shameful display of blocking a good clean half of them, wincing every time another connects. To be fair. The guy's coughing like a smoker.

Chadley looks at Stehl for a brief second before continuing his attempts to beat an injured man with noodles. He aims for the face again. He's weak enough right now that all that leather would probably nullify any force he can muster.

Stehl says: ... Alright, enough. You're just. Flopping now.

Chadley says: S-so is... he.
Chadley steps back, sounding both tired and frustrated.

Líotuse gets whacked in the face with one gauntlet, another contacting after that as well before the coughing Lio gets his hands up. "I'm not flopping I had a broken arm and now I just want the cast off even if it's too early."

Stehl says: How much longer is it supposed to be.

Líotuse says: I don't know. It's been maybe a week. And a few days. Lius injected me with some miracle serum in a syringe. Something about blood vessels and broken bones being sped up. For recovery.

Chadley gives himself a moment to catch his breath. "I could... heal it," he offers.
Chadley says: Not... gonna fix the bone, but... help.

Líotuse finally notices himself, dropping his guarding position and shaking his head. "No. No. You're... about to collapse." He grins. Though not at the young man's expense. Just looking cheerful in general. Red spots on his face from being smacked or not.

Chadley confirms this by taking a single step toward the fountain and then collapsing against it. He nods. "Good fight. I think. Not really."

Líotuse laughs loudly, nodding once as he steps over and down to pat Chadley's shoulder. "Not really, no. On both accounts. Maybe when we're both more... capable. We can spar, eh?"

Chadley nods again, this time cut short by a cough. "Yeah. If Stehl leaves me capable."

Stehl says: If.

Chadley says: ... If.
You let out a hacking cough.

Líotuse clears his throat, left hand rubbing at it as he straightens up. "-If- anything. It'll help build stamina."

Stehl says: Exactly.

Orgo snorts. "Don't make palerdins like they used ta."

Chadley ignores the commentary. "... So now what."

Líotuse says: I'm thinking of wandering off to take some good shears to this cast and risk it being exposed too early and broken again. You guys?

Stehl says: We're going whale hunting. Shark whales.

Chadley says: ... What?

Stehl says: But that's later tonight.
Stehl says: Not you.
Stehl says: Legion nonsense.

Chadley says: Why is the Legion fighting whales.

Stehl says: They're sharks. And they're eating supply lines.
Stehl says: Whole.

Líotuse says: ...Oookay then. I guess I'll mentally prepare for fighting a shark whale then.

Chadley coughs again. "Fair enough."

Stehl says: Learn how to breathe underwater too.
Stehl says: That'll help.

Líotuse says: I'll rig something.

Stehl says: I just need to float. And not get devoured.

Líotuse says: I haven't seen you ever wear anything beyond that armour.
Líotuse says: You're sinking.

Stehl says: Yeah. So I need to make it float for ten minutes.
Stehl says: And then get the hell out of there.

Líotuse says: That will go.
Líotuse says: Swimmingly.

Stehl says: You're treading in dangerous waters.

You begin to groan.

Líotuse says: ...I woke up a short while ago, I'm running on about half here.

Stehl says: Excuses.

Líotuse says: I'll come up with some puns later for when we're actually out there.

Stehl says: You'll have a whale of a tale, I'm sure.

Líotuse says: ...I'm going to go remove my cast. Later.

Stehl says: Gator.

Líotuse waves over his shoulder.

Stehl says: Enjoy the day off.

Chadley rests his head back against the fountain as Stehl walks off. He then slowly falls onto his side. "Light protect. Ugh."

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 White Sigil: Insect Wing

As they enter the area, the buzzing sound.... gets louder...

Liotuse looks behind him to Mayru and Dyna. There's a nod to them, then looks over to Oliver. "Light be with you three. And the same to you."

Oliver says: ... Light be with us all.

Wilhiém says: I hear bugs.

Liotuse says: You're in -Silithus-.

Mayrù wrinkles her nose, "B-bugs?"

Wilhiém says: And I -love- it.

Liotuse shakes his head.

Dyna blinks back at Mayru quietly.
Dyna says: You'll be fine, dear.

Liotuse spreads his hands wide. "This little valley looks inviting."

Apophan's voice booms over the Windstones, "Xia chk'rik ik i ki k!!!!"

Liotuse sighs. "Chittering too! Fantastic!"

Wilhiém grins widely. "...this is amazing."

The Hivemother lets loose an earsplitting shriek.

Liotuse grimaces and immediately brings his fists up over his ears.

Wilhiém fights back the urge to take notes and draws his sword instead.

Mayrù says: -amazing-?

Wilhiém says: Have you -seen- anything like this before?

Liotuse slogs his way through the water, spitting as he glances right. "There's a path."

Three eggs plop from the queen's, well... thing.

Wilhiém still fights back the urge to take notes.

The eggs hatch, from each emerges a tentacled, mutated trespasser. Apophan's voice echoes, "Behold. Your. FATE!"

Liotuse recoils a bit, shifting to the right and trying to find a more shallow part. There. At least he can sort of stand, raising his longswords. "Try us."
Liotuse glances up at the Silithid queen, then down to the mutations. "Why. You three are as ugly as your mother. Now that's impressive."

Insect A says: You shall be one of us soon... Very soon... So you should not say such things...

Liotuse fakes a loud gasp, glancing back to his three companions. "They respond pretty well. Maybe I can teach them the art of comebacks."

Wilhiém says: Shhh, shh, I already have self-esteem issues.

Insect A opens his mouth impossibly wide and let's a shrieking battle cry. He then jumps into the air and lands on top of Liotuse, weapon in hands.

Liotuse blinks at the creature's speed, trying to raise his weapons to deflect. His reaction was off and slow, crashing underneath the water with the mutated creature on him.

Insect A says: DIE! DIE!DIE!

Insect B stares with the white blank eyes the staff glowing as it aimed at Mayru casting a sinister curse of pain at the person.

Mayrù inhales sharply, hand gripping at her chest as the curse sinks into it's mark.

Insect C grabs his weapons in both hands charges at Willhiem, swinging his axe at his chest.

Wilhiém coughs, gurgling, letting out guttural swears as the axe lunges between the plates, no doubt breaking something important.

Mayrù shakes her head and arches her shadows out toward the injured, warding them and soothing their pain.

Liotuse -grapples- the monstrosity with his right arm, trying to jerk it around and reverse their positions so he's above it. Underneath the sick liquids they're immersed in, he lunges with the sword in his other hand to impale it.

Dyna growls and steps infront of Mayru protectively. She casts out her right hand, a golden celestial hammer flies forth aimed for Insect B's chest.

Insect B laughes as he snaps his staff to the right deflecting the hammer, "Infidel!"

The Hivemother lets out a shriek. Hivecall.

Insect A grabs Liotuse by his robes and pulls him forth, with a curved knife in his other hand.

Insect B slams the staff onto the water making a small tidal wave fly toward Mayru.

Mayrù lifts her arms in front of her face to try and block the rushing water. She sputters and coughs once it passes, gasping for air.

There's a lovely fresh spurt of red colour in the liquid as the knife slips into Lio, bypassing his tunic and the piece of metal beneath it.

Insect C raises his hand out of the water grabbing Willhiem's shouders bringing his blade in from behind stabbing him in the back.

Mayrù holds a hand over her throat, focusing on working past the pain she's feeling. Her other hand arcs to throw soothing shadows toward Liotuse.

Wilhiém growls. He turns, swings, bringing out the hooked sword and aiming -just- below the attacher's sternum, hooked up, aiming to gut it - in the nicest way possible.

Liotuse jerks himself back to remove the knife from his torso, finding his actions a bit easier without as much pain to deal with. He lets go of both his swords to reach out and grab the creature's neck, jerking to try and break whatever now passes as its neck.

A resounding crack is heard, and the creature goes limp. It now banks in the liquid, not stirring for a moment.

Dyna 's eye tics. She snarls and lunges at the thing that hurt Mayru, holy energy bursting from her weapon to smack the carapace- hard.

A massive proboscis descends from the Hivemother and into each of the remaining pets... She unshackles herself from the wall...

Insect B falls to the water,dead

The Queen drops down and hisses angrily at the intruders to her hive. However, lethargy has taken its toll.
The Queen spits acid in all directions. The poison splatters against the fluid, sending it flying.
The Queen's deathwail echoes across the desert... the Silithid on the outside battle would become enraged.

Liotuse manages to break the surface of the liquid, gasping for air as he gestures to the others to follow him, seeing the collapsed Hivemother.
Liotuse sets a hand to the open knife wound in the side of his torso, trying to wipe the crap away from the area. He doesn't want that infected, wiping at his eyes as well. "You... okay Mayru? Took some hits..."

Mayrù drops her levitation spell as she settled on the bank. She nods distantly and closes her eyes to regain her focus. "I'll... Be fine, let's press onwards."

Liotuse sheathes his swords, reaching back for his rifle to work hastily to clean the flintlock mechanism. "We've got to keep moving then. I think that might have taken longer... than it should've." It's clear he's trying to catch his breath.

Dyna 's lips remain thin, and she hovers guardedly close to Mayru, frowning. She doesn't say anything, but her jaw is clenched.

Wilhiém crawls out, coughing, spitting, swearing. He pulls off his helm and shakes his head about. He winces - hand darting behind his armor - and tugging the network shut once again.

Liotuse coughs and spits. He doesn't even want to question what he was just swimming in. "Thanks for the save by the way. May. Didn't see it but I did notice I didn't feel like I was just -stabbed-."

Wilhiém says: Liotuse. Get over here.

Liotuse stops.

Mayrù smiles weakly, "Of course. I can surpress the pain and keep you fighting. We'll fix wounds once we reach triage."

Wilhiém stretches out a hand. On it - a small bug, stinger extended. "Adrenaline shot. Bring up to neck. Twist head. Numbs pain, gives a boost."

Liotuse stretches up to his full height, shaking his head as he seems to zone out. Centering himself and taking a few seconds to stretch out his arms. "I'm fine. A stab isn't much and we've just started. Keep it for yourself."

Dyna 's jaw clenches as she casts a worried glance towards Tuse, and frowns faintly. She seems more interested in staring at her boots now.

Mayrù loops in arm with Dyna's and lean's her cheek on the woman's shoulder as they walk -- some small comfort.

Wilhiém winces. "Whatever you wish." He brings the insect to his own neck, the stinger goign in-out. Hisses, tosses it aside.

As the group nears, they could hear the pained roars of Bryagh.

Liotuse says: ...Company.

Wilhiém says: Familiar.

Liotuse says: It can't fly and it's wounded on the left side. Stay on that side. Abuse it's lack of mobility. Watch the head.

Apophan yells: You will go no closer, BLASPHEMING TRESSPASSERSSS!
Apophan yells: Flee, then, Acolyte.
Apophan slams his scythe to the ground, it burns into the rocks.

Wilhiém says: That.
Wilhiém says: Is a cow.

Apophan says: You've caused my beloved Bryagh much pain... and for that... you will die. You've slain the Hivemother... do you know how long it takes to GROW ONE?!

Liotuse says: A while. Mad bastard, aren't you? Maybe we'll help next time we visit if you hand us our people back.

Apophan says: No matter, I have a surprise for you...

Wilhiém taps his chin. "No, but I would be interested to find out."

Apophan says: An old friend...

Liotuse loads the rifle, cocking the hammer and slinging it onto his bac but instead draws his longswords.


Mayrù reaches out to grip limply at Dyna's wrist, ".... Oh light."

Wilhiém says: ...the penguin is not here, is it?

The broken, twisted and mutilated shell of Strahm steps forward. Lightweight bands of Elementium cover his chest and back.

Liotuse tosses a 'shut up for now' look over his shoulder at Wilhiem.

Stràhm approaches alongside the Apophan. Black sclera-colored eyes stare intently at the trespassers. A smoking rifle is held in both hands across his chest. A chest that is covered with plates of Elementium melded to his skin. "Yes, Sovereign."

Apophan says: Destroy these intruders... I tire of their pathetic mewlings.

Stràhm says: As you command.

Liotuse backpedals, murmering lowly to his group. Perhaps too low for Apophan or Strahm to hear. "Aim to incapacitate. Not kill."

Apophan looks at Strahm.

Wilhiém looks disappointed.

Apophan says: Aim to decapitate.

Wilhiém mimicks the cow with a hand-puppet.

Liotuse flashes Apophan a grin. You just had to catch that didn't you? Lio gives his longswords a whirl in each hand, already trying to spike his adrenaline.

Strahm aims his rifle ahead of him at the group.

Dyna just stares. Her expression does not appear to change, and her hand grips Mayru's, her features strangely flat. More holy energy bristles, forming a haze about her thick red armor.

Liotuse tries to pivot and dart to the left as he sees the end of the rifle his way. All he manages to do is relocate it to the left side of his midsection. His tunic and the metal within it stands no real chance, the round striking deep.

Mayrù 's hand jerks up as the bullet flies, enveloping it in shadows the lessen the damage it would do to it's target.

Apophan chuckles, "I think I will enjoy watching thiss..." he moves over to his other cultists.

Wilhiém winces and spits on the ground. "Fookin' cultists." He re-seals his helm and dashes out, spiked shield in front of him - towards Minion!Strahm.

Liotuse lets himself fall to the side. Laying down would be a bit more comfortable than standing with a bullet wound now. He slips the throwing knife out of his right boot, snapping his wrist to try and catch Strahm low in the leg.

Kamazlek cackles a little gnomish cackle. "Very amusing!"

Dyna releases Mayru and moves forward, bringing her large red blade up as she darts forward and slamming forward with holy judgement, blade glittering with Light.

Stràhm hardly makes a noise as he's impaled, cut, and stabbed with a flying projectile. Still, he stares with a high intensity within his black-clouded eyes at the group.

Strahm vanishes in a sudden crack of electricity. He appears here, then there, and seemingly everywhere at once. But when he finally remains still, both blades are held out, the rifle strapped to his back. ( AOE all roll )

Apophan snarls his flaming eyes widen in abject rage.

Mayrù moves closer to Liotuse, waving her hands forward to soothe his pain with more shadow energy!

Wilhiém throws the shield aside. He hisses, winces, then pulls off hsi gauntlet - bare hand darting for Strahm's throat. He would attempt a drain, simple shadow-sort - if successful, it would significantly weaken the poor... beaten... thing.

Liotuse dips his head in thanks to Mayru, struggling to get to his feet. He doesn't bother picking up his longswords, stumbling into a charge to break for Strahm's right and snap his left leg around in a strike to his kidney. Plating or not, he might be able to feel it.

Dyna's eyes briefly close as she lunges forward, closing the small distance between herself and the thing that used to be her husband. She doesn't hesitate- her sword plunges down for his collar, striking at the throat; holy energy sizzles as she infuses the strike with righteous vengeance.

Apophan says: My creation. Kill them.

Stràhm falters slightly, eyes lidding partially at the battering. The grip on his throat seems to drain him, and the kick to his metal-plated side may have done it, too. Or that oddly weak chop to the collar bone. His attention, however, abruptly and fully shifts to Wilhiem. One of his swords is raised up, and made to cut him vigorously across the chest.

Wilhiém hisses. The drain fills him, mending - the pain mostly negated. The sword slides between the plates, blood gushing out. He falls to his side, grasping, attempting to flimsily heal what he can.

The Door to the Watchers Terrace creaks open.

Apophan turns and his eyes widen... in horror.
Apophan roars with bestial vigor. So fierce!

Mayrù frowns sadly toward Strahm's desecrated body. Shadows swirl around her hand and she lobs a mind blast toward him, fully geared to just disable him.

Drathnor vs. Team White Sigil

Drathnor yells: As you wish. The gods bless my axe this day!

Nialos yells: The gods don't bless a thing. I'm taking my daughter back!

Apophan yells: Drathnor... Ash'kira n'k-k-ki RAH
Apophan yells: Your daughter belongs to the Will of a most holy group...
Apophan yells: INQUISITOR!

Nialos yells: Bullshit it does!

Drathnor yells: You shall rue the day you steeped foot upon these Holy grounds!

Apophan yells: END THIS FARCE!

Marìus yells: -Words, and only words. Be silent, all of you. Focus.

Khaelanna yells: [Qiraji] "Kh'shab ahpt ras'zuj! T katc tajh m'rh ni'cht s'k m'jh H'satl SHAD'RA!!"

Apophan yells: Come to meet your end, Denouncers.

Drathnor yells: Shroken, Teloran! RIP THEM APART!

Shroken charges forward. The large wolf rushes at Mayru lunging and attempts to tackle and snap his jaws around her neck.

Teloran jumps onto Wilhiem clawing at his face.

Mayrù screams as the wolf pulls her down, her hands buckle under its neck as she tries to push it away.

Liotuse swings around immediately. They need Mayru for healing services and Wilhiem has proven he can stitch himself up. He swings his rifle around, jamming the end of the barrel against the wolf's body and pulling the trigger.

Shroken is shot in the side, as the astral wolf fades out and vanishes.

Mayrù rolls to her side, coughing out a "Th-thank you." She reaches out for Wil, as she see's he's under assault too and channels her soothing shadow energies.

Wilhiém is getting clawed at! He lets out a growl, writhing about on the ground - throwing a fist out, one after another, at the wolf's muzzle with his right hand, shielding away with his left.

Dyna 's sword lifts in defense of Mayru, but- suddenly Liotuse! Her sharp gaze darts between the wolf attacking Wilhiem, and the thing that summoned them. Her eyes narrow and she lunges for Drathnor with holy Judgement at the tip of her sword as she swings down hard toward his arm.

After getting hit in the jaw, Teloran backs up in pain.

Wilhiém scrambles up to his feet, adjusting his nose with an audible crack. Delightful.

Drathnor lifts his hands up into the air a massive wall of fire plummets to the ground and heads straight for Liotuse.

Teloran gets ready for another attack at Wilhiem, grabbing for his arm.

Liotuse turns and - stands his ground. Mayru's sort of behind him, not wanting to avoid the thing. He -screams- as the wind whips and slathers him with magma.

Drathnor says: HAHA! You fool! Feel the power of the gods! Burn in their fires! BURN!

Wilhiém 's arm is pulled, popped, and probably cracked. Ow.

Drathnor laughs at Liotuse.

Liotuse looks like he's been through hell, literally. Fire and lava enjoy his company far too much. He breaks free of the tornado, returning Drathnor's mocking with a savage, bloody grin. He lunges straight for Drathnor's left arm, leading with his brutally sharp knives.

Mayrù pulses out her shadows to sooth the newly recieved magma burns about Lio's body. Her magic then shifts toward Wil to stiffle the pain he's feeling, giving him the boost he needs to keep fighting.

Wilhiém hisses. As he'd imagine, the wolf has locked his jaws about his arm - with the burst of shadow-energy, he throws out teh hooked, rusted sword with his free arm, aiming to -behead- the bothersome thing.

After taking the hit, Teloran drops to the ground in pain.

Dyna's eyes widen as a whirlwind of Magma strikes at Tuse, and she pulls back her sword to throw another Light-infused blow for Drathor; it flies for the arm that was used to burn-the-crap-out-of-Tuse, vengefully.

Drathnor yanks the axe from his back its searing heat can be felt coming off the blade, he swings for Liotuse's chest "YOU DIE UPON THIS FEILD!"

Liotuse gurgles and spits up blood as the mighty axe shears through his reinforced tunic, only managing to pull himself off it and fall onto his back.

Mayrù's up on her feet, shadows arching off of her toward Lio (and Wil XD) "No you don't. You get up."

Wilhiém snaps his arm back with a pop. Pop! He shakes it about, and leaps towards Drathnor, sword out, shield throwd aside as to ease the movement. He aims a horizontal slash at hsi midsection.

Drathnor says: You fools cannot win!
Drathnor Slams his axe into the ground lightning arcs out from the blade towars all those inj his way

Dyna 's lips twist in a snarl as LIotuse goes down like a cheap whore and she lurches forward in a whirlwind of holy energy and rage and stuff and attacks Drathnor with the power of Spanish meltdowns.

Liotuse scrambles to backtrack, his body weak as his elbows slip far too many times in the sand. Trying to get out of the fight and maybe get that deep, open wound seen to. He fumbles to get a round into his rifle, pulling on the hammer and firing the flintlock at Drathnor.

Mayrù focuses on her wounded allies, soothing their pains with shadows and willing their flesh to numb and mend.

Drathnor gasps he looks down at a new wound in his side "you shall pay for that....dearly

Apophan yells: *As the final line of defense begins to crumble, a bolt of lightning slams into Anna d'Khael and Drathnor. Energizing them for whatever their final attacks shall be*

Wilhiém lets out a wail. He's been chopped at, burnt, electrocuted... with the last little tidbit of effort, he puts all of the remaining strength into a throw - and throws his shield out towards the cultist in an ark. DESPERATE MEASURES.

Dyna is into it, now. She darts to the side and aims to cleave the figure in the side as she makes to get behind him for more stabbing.

Liotuse manages to slip another round into the barrel of his firearm. His eyes are distant yet -frenzied-, darkness lurking at the edges of his vision. It's hard to recognize him anymore at this point, nor does he feel much this close to the edge. With an unnerving stare he pulls the trigger, firing once more at Drathnor.

Mayrù cries out as the lightning hits her, shaken she pulses out shadows in an almost aimless torrent -- ohlightpleasenoonedie!