Fantasy Fading Flame (In Character)

[Epiphany]

Aymeline

The Wallmaidens were ferocious and the Giant staggered as three attacked her from beneath. Though their feeble claws glanced off of her Light-enchanted mail, several tips managed to slip in and puncture dense musculature to draw blood. A reminder that simply charging blindly into the enemy had its limits.

Aymeline took advantage of their proximity to sweep one massive arm around the three monsters and promptly ground their bodies into the ruined walls of the crumbling building, even as she squeezed tightly with her other arm. Extensive physical training allowed her to lift twice her body weight, which meant she could exert a ton's worth of crushing force. And moments later, she dropped their broken bodies to the ground.

One hand swept back and drew the slender jade-steel rode from her belt. With the press of a button, the White Warcry unfolded from its storage shape, branching out into its original massive warhammer configuration. And as the other Guardians and their allies fought off their own attackers and closed ranks with her, she pointed ahead.

"They're down there!" Aymeline said, sensing Pat and Pryonn's presence through her Soul Tie. As could every other ally who'd participated in her bonding ritual. "Hurry!"

Noting the crumbling staircases, though, the Giant opted to wait for Maria in particular to rejoin the team. Dropping to one knee, Aymeline reached out one hand and gently touched the other Guardian's shoulder. With a thought, she dropped the gates she kept around the Light within. She sent it thundering into the other woman, imbuing her and reviving her with all she'd just spent and perhaps a bit more. With a friendly smile, the Giant nodded once at the respected, fierce fellow warrior, then gestured her on as she turned back at the sound of an unfamiliar voice.

A Sylvari! Aymeline had never seen one before, but she'd heard of the race. Her friendly smile grew at the welcome words. "The fight continues below. Follow the others and I'll try the staircase you don't. Just in case."

And then the Giant moved to try one of the staircases down, hoping feverishly her weight didn't collapse the whole structure beneath her.

Midrick QizPizza Trappy Unwavering Knight Slop Spireshade ShiyaRose

 

[Trappy]

Terra
Leaving the tribesman behind, Terra rushed after Pryonn and the rest of the group. "This fool, what am I going to do with him..." The girl mumbled to herself. Despite their company together since they met at Frontierville, and the journey they'd been on thus far, the knight continued to surprise Terra with his heedless pursuit of glory and combat. How could one be so blinded by chivalrous love and ideas on their relentless chase for eminence? Terra reminded herself to focus on not losing her head, after all, it was a question she did not hope to find an answer herself anytime soon. Having grown up in nameless, lawless corners of the Empire, the Incruscan girl was no stranger to trickeries and ambushes, but she could never get used to them. Consequently, she was most terrified when the Scrappers revealed their fangs and claws from the blinding darkness, and rendered useless to the group, as she cornered herself away from the beasts and troubles, while her fellows did all the heavy-slashing. Get it together, you idiot! No more hiding. - The thought echoed through the Incruscan's mind. She'd had enough of watching others do all the fighting. If they can do it, so can she. Terra was determined to be of better use to her comrades from now on.

Dashing across the debris and dust left behind by heated battles and then past several ruins, the girl finally arrived on site. The fight had already ensued, and Terra had noticed another who seemingly just arrived like her, a Sylvari, no less! The girl could not stop to admire the creature, however, she had Guardians to assist. It didn't take long for her to find a breach in a wall after navigating through the ruin her comrades were in. Terra prepared herself for whatever threats may emerge from these corners, inserting a crimson-glowing crystal into one of the hilts she carried with her, managing to extend a fiery blade. After carefully probing the breach to make sure there were no Scrappers lurking on the other side of the wall, the Incruscan peeked her head over and hollered down.

"Pryonn? Are you down there? Are you harmed?"

Mentioned: ShiyaRose + Ruins squad
Interacted: Unwavering Knight

 

[QizPizza]

Audun the Fallen

Location: Ridge
Status: Mildly Injured/Very Angry
Disposition: Slightly Good
Interacting With:
Mentioned: Sybil Soviet Panda U UnbelievableCow Albion

The sudden attack by the fireball sent Audun down to the ground, as he landed on his wing. The Nephilim was showered in dirt, fire, and ashes. His armor was blackened by the debris that covered him. Audun was damn pissed. He began to get up. However, two Runners came out of nowhere, perfectly synchronized like a pack of wolves. The first threw itself against the iron cannon Audun held in his left arm and knocked it out of the Nephilim's hand with its weight. Audun's roared of surprise was cut short by the other Runner clamping its maw down on the paladin's helmet. Audun staggered under the weight of the Darkborne and fell back down onto the ground.

With a roar, he grabbed the head of the Runner on his head with his left arm and began to squeeze. He poured Entropy into his fingertips, weakening the structure of the Runner's skull. This allowed Audun to crush the head of the Runner like a piece of parchment. The Dark essence spilled onto Audun's armor, further blackening it. The paladin was able to stand once again, far more disheveled and damaged than when he first went down. His armor was dusted with black ashes and painted with the essence of the Darkborne. His right gauntlet was dented and held teeth marks running up and down the metal and his helmet's shape was distorted by the recent attack by the Runner.

Audun turned his attention back to the other Runner who was still on the ground, its paw trapped under the iron cannon it knocked out of the Nephilim's hand. The Nephilim glared at the Runner and threw his sword at the Darkborne. The arcing lightning from the sword disintegrated the runner and left the cannon laying on the ground. Audun quickly reclaimed it and moved towards the Eevie with a light limp from the impact of Rottapult's blast. "Dullahan, we have a mission to complete. Don't you dare die yet!"

The Nephilim kicked the Runner harassing Eevie over and slammed the iron cannon down on its body with a sickening crunch of bone. The Runner was slain. Audun tucked the cannon under his arm and helped his ally up. She would have to stay alive. Otherwise, the group would be left without any healers and the war of attrition would easily be won by the Darkborne. "Come, we can rest and recovery when the Rottapults are destroyed."

 

[-robert-]

Leafa

All seemed to go according to plan, the left side of the field was completely cleared of any cavities, and Kyden was now directing himself to the right side. However, all went sour when Snow-Hair begun firing her gun. The impact of her explosion made Kyden lose balance, and in consequence, step right into the sharp, dangerous, and surely pain inducing maw of a Cavity. Normally, in situations similar to this one, the elfling would simply sit back and let others do the job, not that they would let her help anyway. But, this time, it was different. Nobody was stepping up. Either because they didn't have the confidence, their weapon was too inaccurate, or their shot would surely hit Kyden, in Snow-Hair's case. This time, the spotlight was on her. And any insecurities she had were cleared when Kyden made eye-contact with her, with reassuring eyes.

She was down to her last arrow. She tried her best to be completely focused... it did not work. In the end, she did what she does best, winging it. She aimed... and shot, without thinking twice. And to her suprise, the arrow hit the cavity, freeing Kyden, without any "out-of-normal" help. While everyone else focused once again on Kyden, Leafa started to jump up and down excitedly, completely forgetting the fact that Kyden was not safe and sound yet.

"I . DID. IT. YESSS!!! I SAVED KY- WOOAAAOOO-"

She fell flat on her face. "Owww... what in... wait... is that... a baby cavity?" She had triped on what seemed to be a miniscule mouth-thingie. Curious, she immediately approached it, and studied it. Unlike the adult creatures, it wasn't stuck to the ground, it could slither around, similar to a snake. Intrigued, Leafa picked it up. It became was startled, wobbling around in the elf's hand, and attempting to bite it. Leafa caressed it with her other hand, in an attempt to calm it down... and it did, it completely changed it's behavior just like that. "It's so cute! And it seems to like me! I'm going to keep it! Now it just needs a name... ooo, I know! Tooth! Because it has teeth!"

Kabboom

 

[Trappy]

Hearthfall Season - Noon
Maria
The Ruins, Darkwoods​

• Maria
• Interacted / Mentioned

• 
  
  The shadow of her giant comrade loomed over the weathered Maria, and with a touch from the former, a cascade of Light energy came torrenting through the girl. The Guardian staggered for a moment, like suddenly splashed with cold water, but she could also feel it, in her muscles and between her fingers. What overwhelming power! Only a moment earlier, Maria was struggling to stand straight, having spent whatever strength she had to tear down a good half of the ruin, yet now she felt as if she could uproot all the trees in this portion of the Darkwoods if she willed it. Aymeline was really something, for a giant - Maria must admit. Her powers really explain the succubus's fascination with her, as seen earlier. Though the Guardian doubted that Vileborne could be up for anything remotely good.
  
  "Much obliged, Aymeline. You really are something~!" The girl said as she stretched herself. Her words were of genuine gratitude, and Maria was ready to repay Aymeline the favour as soon as she gets a chance. When she was done charging up her Light energy, Maria got into position and launched herself towards where her comrades were fighting. It didn't take long for her to locate where the other two warriors went, and by the holes, there was the Incruscan from earlier, Terra. The staircases nearby seemed like relatively safe passages down to where Pat and Pryonn went, but one can never be too careful. Signalling the Incruscan to stand behind her, Maria proceeded down one of the stairways, bardiche held high, ready for any foes and fiends, while debris and rubbles from the crumbled walls from earlier came flinging themselves towards the Guardian, forming a round shield floating just above her left arm.
  
  As the two ventured down, their footsteps echoed on the dust-covered stone, which one may assume was once aesthetically pleasing. Now that the heated combat had came to a halt, the eerie stillness of the structure could be sensed. Sinister cobwebs shielding collapsed shelves, altars, and a mysterious contraption in the centre of the room, partially lit by distorted rays of sunlight from the dome of structure, completely overtaken by nightmarish spawns of the Darkbreed. The chamber was seemingly sealed from the outside world for untold millennia for such fiendish infestation to have taken place. These ruins, sunken, swallowed by the Darkwoods, and consequently had been taken over by its dark and poisonous evils. The Incruscan girl immediately dashed over the knight's side, while the Guardian walked towards them, as she marvelled at the architecture and the eeriness of the site, shield held high in case the routed beasts were not the last to confront them in these corners.
  
  There they were, amidst the untouched and forgotten parts of civilisation. "Peculiar..." - Maria uttered, as she reached out her hand for the mercenary.
  
  
• 
  Interacted: Epiphany Midrick
  Mentioned: Unwavering Knight QizPizza
  

 

[Spireshade]

Raethe hadn't gotten the chance to unsheathe his blade by the time a jarringly familiar figure ripped into his right shoulder. He repressed his instincts to shoot a bone-protrusion straight through his robe and into the head of the wallmaiden, but he already heard the ripping of the fabric that the wallmaiden incurred. That would not do. His shoulder wound already coated his upper right torso in blood, and that coating went right under the maiden's lower jaw, shoulder bone shooting straight through the top of her head, and retracting right back down, replenishing his once hollow arm with bone again.

A second wallmaiden was upon him by the time the first's body slumped to the ground, but this time, he was somewhat more prepared. He pulled back the sleeve of his robe, his forearm a straight blade of bone. He always remembered when he was training with shortswords with Jurgen how the blade was just an extension of the body. He was never more right with Raethe. His glove fell to the ground from the newly formed vein-wrapped blade, which he bared against the wallmaiden's swift attacks. Two claws came into his wounded shoulder, and his midsection, before Raethe was able to catch one hand with his sword, and then the other in a failed opportunity from the wallmaiden. He finally lopped off her head, and Raethe's arm stayed as it was, stained with Darkborne matter, and his own blood. He was bleeding from a few different areas, but that was fine by him, since it wasn't the worst he had ever endured. A quick trip to his satchel brought jerky, and within seconds, the dried meats disappeared into the blackened hole that was his face. His arm returned to normal, coated in the unwanted matter of course, but his wounds were still there. All he was able to do for himself was seal the bleeding, turn off the nerve receptors there, and attempt to seal them, but all he was able to conjure were thin strands of skin that sat over the gashes, a disturbing mockery of natural healing. He needed more food, more light, and most certainly, more matter.

He was barely able to catch the rest of the fight going on ahead of him, his companions having been dragged away by more of the blackspawn. With a groan, he picked his staff from the ground and finally unsheathed it, ready to assist.

@Ruins!

 

[Unwavering Knight]

Pryonn & Kaatl

A slight vibration, a roiling of the stone benath him was all that tried to alert the knight, foretelling the persistent destruction of the floor at his feet. Even while the fairy on his shoulder looked around in alarm, Pryonn himself could only affix a feverish gaze upon the waiting scrappers, his wounded hand twitching in giddy excitement as his mind was assailed by hallowed pain. Beside him, uttering his own battle-calls, intermixed with a quip of jeer, soul-link ablaze with butcher-fervor.

Perhaps Pryonn would have found the time to answer Pat's cheer, if only the scrappers hadn't launched their own offense amidst the gravity-wrought destruction of the building around them. Beneath the two forward fighters the floor gave way as from beneath darkborne claws came to threaten. Abruptly the valiant charge turned into ignoble descents, both Pat and Pryonn falling off the railing in a shower of jagged stone-splinters and the skittering screeches of the scrappers.

Weighed down by weapons and armor, the two combatants crashed heavily upon the ruin-stone, pieces and fragments of the upper level impacting all around them, only the gravity-force cast by Maria preserving them from being skewered or flattened by various chunks of debris.

Locked in fall-induced grogginess, downed upon his back, the knight came to the sight of Kaatl sitting atop his chestplate, worriedly staring down his visor. Shaking off his stupor, Pryonn looked over to his recent comrade, Patricus, who was already getting helped up by the Guardian Maria.

Another familiar voice from farther above lured the knight's gaze, a hallowed form to disperse his daze "A siren's serenade to my errant-ears! My Lady's tune, to alight my cheers!" Raising up his torso, the knight happily waved towards the Incruscan maiden "'Alright' am I, but I apologize, for being only half-seemly; where I should be on my knees, I am instead at your feet." Casting away the last remnants of the fall, the knight hurriedly got to his feet, only to sink back to his knees again as Terra neared, his helmeted view directed at the ground as he spoke with saddened shame "My Lady, please scold me, for I failed to attain glory in your name."

Addressed: Trappy
Mentioned: Midrick

In Ruins Group: Midrick Vyseryx Trappy Kabboom Epiphany QizPizza Spireshade Slop ShiyaRose

 

[ShiyaRose]

Gwenyth​

Not fully knowing what to do with herself other than cower at the increasing feeling of evil dread that lingered in the ruins, Gwenyth simply moved forward into the action, her breathing quick and slightly panicked as she moved further into the fray, her sword feeling more like a hindrance than a weapon in her delicate hands. She noticed a few people venture further into the ruins to assist their companions, but Gwenyth's attention was drawn towards a crimson-robed figure whom had just finished defending himself against those creepy, shadowy creatures that were keeping everyone occupied. She could see that he had been injured during his battle, but yet he had some kind of strange ability; similar to her healing power but yet... Different. Gwenyth couldn't think of any way to describe it other than fascinating. He seemed fleshy, judging by the blood, and yet he had a way of changing his body in a way that wasn't different from Gwenyth's own racial traits.

Gwenyth rushed over to him, her natural magic swirling around her as she came up behind him, her footsteps nearly silent on the crumbling ground. Gwenyth gently placed a hand on the crimson-robed figures arm, a small gasp escaping her lips as her magic reacted to the wounds she felt on him. She could help him, although she noticed that he had been attempting to heal himself. Gwenyth released her touch from him, stepping back to let him react to her presence. It was a terrible idea to sneak up on someone right after a fight, especially when she was new to the group. Somehow, Gwenyth never seemed to make good decisions when it came to interacting with outsiders.
Gwenyth sheathed her stolen sword at her side, which served to free her hands and to show the man that she meant no harm. That was something she was taught before she left her tribe; outsiders were jumpy, and needed to be shown that one did not have vicious intentions towards them. "Sorry, this might not be the right time but I noticed you were injured just now." Gwenyth said to him, her voice slightly quiet. "May I...?" Gwenyth's hands glowed a soft light-green colour, her healing magic concentrated at her fingertips, ready for her use. She had never healed an outsider before, but she was assured by her tribe that her abilities just as well on their fleshy counterparts. It was simply a matter of training and understanding of the healing art; both of which Gwenyth had. Gwenyth's earthly brown eyes were wide and hopeful as she awaited the crimson-robed man's permission, her magic patiently twirling around her hand.
Spireshade

 

[Spireshade]

The fleshcrafter hesitated for a moment, shutting off the final nerve endings around his torso, and tentatively deciding to not touch his own spinal cord. From what he did with the brain's very own spaghetti-string that resided in other people, he knew that even the slightest mistake could end his own life unintentionally. He would settle for numbing his chest and shoulder instead, it was a safer bet anyways. He shrugged off the potential infection that started in his shoulder by letting the flesh slough off a little, the cloth that had entered his skin simply coming to the surface, and falling to the ground.

He was a little worse for wear, but still mentally prepared, and sometimes, the strength of will was all that one needed at times. It was then, he felt something latch onto his arm. His eyes nearly bulged out from his head as he was caught entirely off-guard. It must've been a subspecies of wallmaiden that had gotten to him! He prepared for the incoming claw to strike him across the face, but it didn't come. Instead, the grip of the... plant-person loosened, and she showed him her hands.

No wonder he hadn't felt her, she wasn't of flesh and bone, but of some new thing entirely. He would have to document her species sometime, and find some other way to keep notes on his environment. It was the second time he was snuck up on by something without a presence he could feel.

"Sorry, this might not be the right time but I noticed you were injured just now. May I?"

"That's fine." He replied, exposing the rips in torso, parting away the failed and sagging flaps of flesh he attempted to layer over the open wounds. He didn't entirely trust some strange creature to come out of the ruins to heal his wounds, but he didn't have any other choice. At least, if he were poisoned by her, he wouldn't have to worry about numbing himself for any physical blow, and instead could let his innards get eaten away. It would be a painless death, and it was all that he could really ask for at this point. "Don't sully yourself if you can't heal it. I've warped my flesh one too many times anyways."

Interacting with: ShiyaRose
Ruins group: Midrick Vyseryx Trappy Kabboom Epiphany QizPizza Unwavering Knight Slop ShiyaRose

 

[Trappy]

Terra
Terra's face shied away from the weak rays of sunlight passing through the chamber's tinted glass dome and her feline Incruscan ears twitched ever-so-slightly as the knight sang verses chivalrous romance with such vigour, seemingly somehow oblivious to the fact that he just took the painful shortcut down quite a set of stairs. The Incruscan said nothing as she approached Pryonn, but in truth, the girl was dead worried about the man's erratic behaviour and unheeding acts, yet somehow amused by the man's gallantry and untimely chivalry. An unwavering, peculiar and foolishly courageous gentleman . . . albeit a fool nonetheless! When Pryonn dropped to his knee and spoke with shame, it surprised the Incruscan girl. Scold him for failing to attain honour in her name? She could scold him for risking his life for such a thing in the first place! At first the Incruscan only sighed, as something convinced her that it was no use telling the knight that, for he may already know, yet risked all the same. However, it soon proved that she could not contain herself seeing the chevalier so dispirited by such cause.

"Hey, you!" Terra yelled, pulling the knight from his knees. "Pull yourself together! What were you thinking, charging recklessly at those monsters like that! If something happened, who's gonna' attain glory in my name then?!"

"What would I do if something happened to you..." - Terra whispered. The girl paused, looking down at the kneeling knight as her hands tucked slightly at his azure cape, before pulling back and offering the knight her hand. "...I pardon you, Sir!... So come on, get yourself together, we're not done here. It seemed the beasts left via those doors, but don't think about dashing off again." She quickly reminded him. "We will wait for others."

Interaction: Unwavering Knight
Mentioned: N/A

 

[Slop]

Ezra, the Mad Scholar
Location: Ruin 2.0?​

Having been disregarded by the occupants of the room (save for Margot and Maria), the relatively awkward situation Ezra had placed himself in gave him some semblance of embarrassment; a sensation most foreign to him. Amidst the process of acknowledging Maria's scolding, the scholar's train of thoughts came to an abrupt and untimely halt. The ruins seemingly roared back at the Guardians, and Maria's effort in carving for her companions the closest thing she could to a safe passage. Its endless labyrinth-like halls furthered its purchase on the Guardians' fleeting sense of comfort; for almost as though with misintent did it amplify and mutate the rumbling of prehistoric bricks to resemble the bellows and cries of ancient spirits troubled by the unintended desecration of their final resting place.

Ezra's instinctual self-preservation (or rather energy-preservation) outmatched the drifting, insincere urge to aid Maria lingering about the back of his skull, and thus he stood motionless at the sight of a struggling comrade, solidifying the Guardians' impression of him as a heartless, might-as-well-be undead.

Deprived of witty remarks, Ezra proceeded to trot along, tailing his squad mates in uncanny silence, until they stumbled upon knowledge of Pyronn's potential whereabouts. Spirits were lifted, and purpose was made clear as enthusiasm and exuberance instilled themselves inside the hearts of the Guardians.

As his teammates utilised their nimbleness and made frantic haste, a sense of alienation befell Ezra; resultant of his kinetic impairment. Fortunately for him, his mental compendium housed just about every spell perceivable by mortal mind, and he just so happened to have had a spell befitting of the circumstances presented to him at the time.

"Teleporta-"

Ezra's chant along with his concentration was swiftly hacked by the dreadful vistas of darkly horrors which had just revealed themselves to him. A sense of urge washed over him, and realisation of the potential conundrum they were in sunk in afterwards. The sensation of recklessness in which he was already acquainted with then proceeded to possess his body and mind once more.

Greater Teleportation

Upon his command, Ezra's physical body seemingly disintergrated into particles which then dissipated into the thin air, only for him to rematerialise a brief moment later amongst his fellow Guardians. Having suffered from the dreaded vision that flashed itself before Ezra's mind, seeing as how swiftly the Guardians were able to dispatch of the evils lurking within the structure apolled Ezra, and suggested that the proposed threat wasn't so much one to begin with. Nevertheless, seeing as how the rest of the Guardians underground were (physically, at least) fully intact sedated him to a (very minute) extent, especially since he's never attempted resurrection spells on Guardians of the Light, and is consequentially uncertain as to whether or not conventional methods would even work to begin with.

"A trifling victory, but a victory nonetheless. Sir.. Pyronn, do mind that such missteps are the exception and not the rule."

Though himself unhinged, Ezra noticed how the same couldn't have been said about several of the Guardians. It would seem that several of them are emotionally invested in each other. Nevertheless, he couldn't have helped himself but notice the occasionally odd and almost abnormal contraction of facial muscles Maria was displaying.

Spell Duplication. Invisible Floating Disk

The debris that were being suspended in air by Maria's gravitational dome ceased their unnerving trepidation, and dropped dead; motionless - as though it was resting on a platform of sorts.

"Basing my calculations off of the weight being acted down by those debris, my disks should maintain its durability for approximately twenty more minutes from now. That said, I believe I've granted us more or less sufficient time to explore this infrastructure without jeaprodising the practice of caution, should you all wish it. I sense a potentially prodigious wealth of knowledge being housed here. After all, desolation sets the stage for redemption and virtue."

 

[ShiyaRose]

Gwenyth

Gwenyth watched, slightly wide eyed, as the man exposed his torn flesh to her, physically wincing as she assessed his wounds. He must have been fighting for a while, for the damage was astronomical; at least in Gwenyth's eyes it was. She hadn't really witnessed enough battles to have a proper idea of what the aftermath was. She could see lumps of useless flesh hanging; mostly likely from his strange ability where he tried to heal himself. Gwenyth frowned a bit, tracing her slender fingers along the sides of the wounds, slowly weaving her magic into his flesh. Ideally she'd rip away the useless flesh to let the real stuff knit together, but she already popped out of nowhere according to this man so she didn't want to give him a reason to see her as an enemy.
Gwenyth shivered a bit as a wave of evil energy hit her, her hair and the roses on her shoulder pulsing with light in warning. Everything in Gwenyth was screaming at her to run and get as far away as possible; as it had been since she neared the ruins. But Gwenyth was a Guardian and she was out here representing her people. She couldn't run, and she had to make herself as useful as possible. Not only was her Guardian duties important, but her tribe was relying on her too. They wanted to interact more with the outside world, and if Gwenyth messed this up then it could hinder that greatly. Gwenyth was under a lot of pressure, but she was confident that she'd find a way to handle it.
Gwenyth poured more magic into the man, glancing up at his... face? Every now and then with a small, harmless smile. She would try to talk to him about something, however she had no idea what kind of things humans spoke of. Her time being trained everyone only ever spoke of combat and war. Gwenyth stuck to the one other Sylvari who was in training; a young male who seemed even more terrified than Gwenyth was. He didn't complete the training sadly, he was too homesick.
After a few minutes Gwenyth had finished her work; unable to do anything about the sagging flesh. If he wanted to remove them then he seemed more than capable of doing that. "I've closed up your wounds and cleansed any infections away from them. Perhaps you should invest in some armour so that you don't get cut up like this again?" Gwenyth suggested, removing her hands from the man. There were long pink scars from where she had closed his wounds, but they would fade in time. Gwenyth felt slightly weary from using her powers, but she was still good to continue. Eagerly, Gwenyth looked around, resting a hand on the hilt of one of her stolen daggers. "So what's the plan now?" Gwenyth asked the man, her earth-brown eyes eager.

 

[Soviet Panda]

The shot from the artillery launched Buras off of the ground. Nimbly he twisted around, however, and landed on his feet. Though he did stagger slightly, and used a hand to steady himself against a nearby tree. The blood loss was starting to affect him, he could feel it making him more lethargic, if only by fractions of a second at a time. That put a timer on things, he needed to deal with this now and possibly die later from his wounds, or die now and leave the artillery to continue firing at the fort. He much preferred the former to the latter. The four Runners, however, would make that a bit more difficult.

The thought the fight would be much like the last one he had, a chaotic brawl with survival being the only goal. But these ones wanted no such thing, they wanted to pick him apart piece by piece. They circled the Inuin, keeping just out of striking distance. When the Inuin was focused on one, another would dart in and take a swing before darting back out. And this strategy was working, for Buras could not land a hit. Oh, he managed to ward a couple off of him, but they would win if things kept going as they were. He needed to find someone, anyone, to watch his back. And seeing as the Angel was to far away, that left the old knight and his squire. Not exactly his first choice, but they'd do.

So, in a whirling flurry of axes meant more to keep the Runners at bay, he went to the duo. And then they became a group of three. And there were two people to watch his back, one better than he wanted.
Albion

 

[Midrick]

Pat was enjoyed himself, he had almost cleaved a wall maiden in two vertically, he pulled the great axe out before turning it on another one, using quick cuts to fell it like a tree. All seemed to be going well until the beasts rallied. They charged him and Pryonn, but it was only a distraction, more scrappers had emerged and created two holes in the walls. Pat suddenly felt himself being pulled backward, roaring and cursing as he fought against them, but he was finally sent down due to the scrappers from the previous engagement charging into him, sending him sprawling. He saw rubble around them and concluded that something or someone could have caused it, most likely their gravity altering friend.

He was shielded from the falling stones, some big enough to crush a man five times his size. He grunted as he came too, even though it was short the fall still hurt like hell. "Next time your gonna drop a building on us you can at least give a warning." he said as he grasped her hand and was hauled to his feet. He noticed the incruscan girl doting over the knight. "Save your proclamations of love for after we get of this cesspit. Then you can worry about getting into her pants Pryonn." he twisted, trying to work some feeling into his back after the fall when a wave of dark energy hit him. The energy enraged him, causing his face to contort into a snarl, his knuckles turned white as he clenched the axe handle in an iron grip. The air around him was charged with a sense of impending doom. "Something's here." he growled, and whatever it was had an extreme amount of darkness emitting from it, meaning that what they had stumbled upon in the ruins was much more of a threat then they originally expected. There was a major fight coming, and he expected that it wasn't going to be particularly easy either.

Trappy Kabboom ShiyaRose Slop Unwavering Knight QizPizza @

 

[QizPizza]

Taryn the Exile

Location: Ruins
Status: Curious/Afraid
Disposition: Slightly Evil
Interacting With: Slop
Mentioned: Epiphany Vyseryx @BioshockRP Trappy Midrick Unwavering Knight Spireshade

"Damn Wallmaidens...you give me a poor reputation." Taryn looked at the five Wallmaidens quickly approaching her. Facing them head on was suicide for anyone with half a mind, and even Taryn was not immune to fearing the consequences of failing to slaying all five in time. Thanks to her abilities, however, she didn't need to worry about them even touching her. The Succubus immediately summoned one hologram that split into two more. Each one would grow a pair of leather wings and fly off in different directions, drawing the Wallmaidens away. In the meanwhile, Taryn recasted her invisibility cloak and rolled beneath the first Wallmaiden.

Right as the first Wallmaiden flew past Taryn, the Succubus drove her lance into the chest of the Darkborne, with the entirety of the shaft passing through the monster. The remaining four were chasing the Light holograms, so Taryn took the opportunity to draw her Divine flintlock, Azrael. The artifact drew from her own Light reserves to fire a piercing icicle straight though a Wallmaiden and the hologram it pursued, destroying both. Not wasting time to reload, Taryn drew Azrael's accompanying flintlock, the Unholy Astaroth. This weapon would also draw from Taryn's Light, but instead of ice, it shot out a fireball that collided with yet another Wallmaiden pursuing the hologram towards the ceiling of the room.

The remaining two had already caught the final hologram were now searching for where the Succubus had disappeared to. Taryn took her time to reposition herself in front of the two Darkbrone and hurdle her lance at them with as much force as she could muster. The oversized lance's weight carried by Taryn's above average strength, pierced through the Darkbornes' bodies and stuck itself into the wall. Taryn allowed her invisibility to drop when she saw no other threat and took a few deep breaths. She reloaded her two flintlocks and retrieved her borrowed lance.

The Succubus planned on following the group silently and towards the back. The ruins did not look like they would hold for long, and she wanted the best possible opportunity to escape should there be a collapse. Even with the magic that upheld the structure, there was little time to spare. Her train of thought was suddenly interrupted by several large stones falling straight towards her. Taryn instinctively dived out of the way, only to find that the stones were suspended in mid air. No doubt the work of Maria...and someone else...

Taryn inhaled the smell of death so prevalent in the ruins, and within the scent...was the scent of a Seraph. Audun wasn't here at the moment, and the scent was heavy with Light...Definitely a different Seraph from Audun. Her eyes scanned the room looking for the distinct white feathers of a Seraph to find none. Were they hiding their wings? She took another look around the room, this time she noticed the towering figure speaking with Maria. This person was not with the party that, and she already confirmed that no one among the Guardians were Seraphs. This would mean they were the Seraph she detected...though they hardly looked like a Celestial. They were more akin to the appearance of a lich or necromancer with their lanky physique. The presence of this person both intrigued and terrified her. She would have the first move. Taryn went up to the towering figure and drew Astaroth, pointing it their head. "You smell like a Seraph. Explain yourself carefully before I lose my patience."

 

[Spireshade]

This feeling that the plant-creature brought was completely different. He had healed himself before, but this was completely different. Ideally, he would just have extra fat that he repurposed into more useful tissue, but this... New tissue formed from the magical energies that entered him from the Sylvari. He had the restraint to not ask her question after question after his interaction with the succubus. Rather, he intently watched as she did her work, awkwardly smiling at him every so often as the flesh mended itself. "I can't thank you enough for this." He couldn't come up with anything else of importance to say, so he practised his niceties on her.

The extra bits of flesh that hung off his malformed arm simply retracted back into his skin, the strings disappearing back into his mass. He inspected her work, pink lines filling in where there was once holes in his body. He was impressed, to say the least. Raethe drew his sleeve back over his arm, but stopped entirely when he caught her comment.

He inhaled, ready to give some sort of snide retort to her mindless comment, then he paused. She clearly was green, both in experience and in other things. He shook his head to himself, and just took the advice. He glanced up to the ruins ahead, rubble and battle coming from the fallen stone. "Well," He straightened up, and readied his blade. "There's more going on there. It's best we don't leave them waiting." He began his stride to press on, but stopped himself, looking back to his new companion. "We're fighting darkborne. Real darkborne that come out of walls, and do the type of damage that you saw. Just be ready for anything, and stick by me. You'll do fine." Then, he was off to the races, taking the stairs down rather than the gaping hole the others involuntarily found themselves using.

Interacting with ShiyaRose
Ruins group!: Midrick Vyseryx Trappy Kabboom Epiphany QizPizza Unwavering Knight Slop ShiyaRose

 

[Kabboom]

Ruins

After some creative footwork from most of the adventurers, along with some hasty meet-and-greet sessions, the party has made it down to the bottom of the structure. The staircase creaking and croaking beneath the weight of the Giantess that tread above it, but the ancient Imperial architecture stood true to its nature, and only caved in after everyone had made their way down, the rumbling debris accumulating into a mound of dust and rot. Also the other staircase collapsed too. No reasoning behind it, other than maybe it being ancient Imperial architecture.

But enough mischief, for the winds have turned. The howls of the cold breeze lurch forth from the crevices, less like a breath from the skies and more like the invisible tendrils of the Dark grabbing hold of this most bountiful prey that have trespassed upon their unholy soil. Wild blades of grass, mingled with the overgrown pavement tiles, squirm with fearful delight in anticipation of the battle unraveling. The last remaining Scrappers, who have since disappeared out of sight, begin howling, and screaming. Many of them scrape their claws together, and fervently gnaw upon the stone tiles within the ruins somewhere. But they do not attack.

This is where things get a bit... serious.

Sickly and decrepit stood the cathedral, its failing brickwork caving further while the clotting of the air continued. A most unnerving form of darkness writhed and weaved within, as the shadows within faded into pitch black. Powerful was the taste of creeping death upon the tongue. The cacophony of terror slowly rising in pitch and volume in the ears of all who were Light-sensitive was now wailing on and on, like a distorted violin pressed right up to the eardrums. And finally, the source of this great discord appeared, strutting out of the front entrance, with his-- no, its armor hissing and cracking as if it were a genuine creature.

[IMG='width:721px;']https://i.imgur.com/hjsCI85.png[/IMG]
​

The Darkmage stood aloft, greaves marring the terra firma it strode atop with sickly Dark ooze. Skin and flesh are omitted in favor of a bony matter, weaved in with raw Darkness that acted as both veil and shield for the ethereal coil locked within, shining with an unnatural shade of pale black. Fleshy reds shroud the figure, in a sort of twisted crimson cape that droops to the cold stone. Dried marrow fused to build an imprisoning helmet, the Darkmage's head reveals nothing but the soulless bloodshot orbs that it uses to stare at the Guardian team, concentrating on nothing, yet leering at everything at once. The obsidian staff it wields is no less ominous, with the red crystal on top powering the spell manifesting on its other hand. But even the Darkmage paled in comparison to its... companion.

A roughly 3-meter tall abomination of reality, the Beast only vaguely resembles a human in terms of general silhouette and skull shape, but the similarities stop there. Cracking and healing beneath the immense weight, its feet puts whole craters behind its steps, as the hardened claws crunch up the pavement with every twitch of the 'toes'. A most rotten brand of meat, woven into strands of bulging muscle, laden with sizzling and festering Darkness, builds up the Beast's body, with a most tightening creak echoing through the ruins with every contraction and relaxation of the figure, shedding off strips of contagion from the movement. The screaming skull of a lost soul from long ago is permanently fixed at the apex of the physique, partially overtaken by flesh and sinew yet still standing out with a hollow grey tint, a threefold eyeless stare looking forward, seeing nothing and everything at the same time.

The two simply stared at the group standing within the ruined building, sizing up the threat that had awakened them for the first time within untold aeons. But then some daft guy had to loose an arrow at the Darkmage. The iron-tipped projectile shattered on contact with the bony helm of the Dark one, barely enough to elicit a glance from its iridescent suns, staring from the shadows.

Standing at the far end of the ruins, on the entering end of the road that once ran through the place, were a different group of people. Not Darkborne, obviously, and not bandits either. Just a simple group of adventurers trying to take on a Darkmage along with his 3-meter tall death-beast-friend-pet without support from a nearby Imperial artillery battery. The wild arrow originated from an archer that seemed veteran enough to know what he's getting into, judging by the two stacks of arrows tied neatly to his flanks, and the frequently-notched bow indicating the amount of kills. One knight wielding a warhammer along with her shield, whispering words of healing spells while lowly getting behind a really big guy with a broad-headed axe. And lastly, pushing the archer aside to get in front, a man dressed in some kind of Western or Southern armor, armed with a strangely wide-bladed sabre. No wait... talwar, that's the weapon.

[IMG='width:554px;']https://i.pinimg.com/originals/52/6c/93/526c9345ef5e454877c3492a6ee01450.jpg[/IMG]​

Without missing a beat, the pulsating spell on the Darkmage's hand dissipated in a red flash, summoning a creeping fog wall, cordoning off the entirety of the ruins. Its red eyes did not move, but it spoke nonetheless, as the Beast slowly twisted its torso to face the new group. "It is our great joy to have found such good inspectors in a long while. The invigilators will delight at this offering of experience. Your resistence is palpable, admirable in fact. But the screams of the vipers and the screeching of the bloodshot winds call for change. It does not matter how many you are, for we are the creeping tide, come to drown you all."

Epiphany SilverFlight Unwavering Knight Midrick Trappy Spireshade ShiyaRose Slop
Jericho

Having grown relatively bored of the life in the outpost, Jericho and Clanus decide to go for a stroll in the perimeter. Good time to check up on the wildlife, get away from all the weird-smelling men of the outpost, and brush up on the good memories long past. The two had thought it was a good idea. But not 10 steps out of the outpost's immediate perimeter, the two immediately catch sight of the firing line assembling near the hunting grounds.

Upon arrival, Jericho was going to inquire on the progress of the hunting, and the overall amount of foodstuff caught, and arrange transportation for the spoils of the hunt. However, what ended up filing into his mind was a barrage of quick-fire questions, fueled by pure confusion alone. Why is the ground filled with Cavities? Why is that big one burning? Why is that dude hopping back towards us on one foot? Why was he even out there in the first place? Where's the food? Why is Anna firing cannon shells at the Cavities? Why is Leafa holding a baby Cavity? Is that all the food? Why are we eating baby Cavities?

"Report, immediately!" His calm mind yells at the rank of men, who have just been celebrating about the success of the kill-all-Cavities plan a moment ago. An elf archer starts giving off a half-assed briefing at once, but it's not much help. In the meantime, Clannus crouches down to eye-level with Leafa, who seemed to be having a great time, what with the baby Cavity on her hand and all. "'Ey there Leafa. What's with the Cavity on yer 'and? What happened 'ere?"

-robert- RubyZoo

 

[SilverFlight]

Bron drew in a breath as the familiar twang and hiss of an arrow being loosed came from behind him. Looking at their opponents he was beginning to wonder if this was going to be worth the trouble. He wrinkled his human nose in disgust. This form he wore usually to put his fellow fighters at ease: a scruffy bear of a barbarian, with long red hair and kind eyes. He had learned quickly that oni were not often welcome in the jovial circle of cammeraderie that most teams seemed to share. This group had employed him however, despite knowing what he was. He was grateful, and despite their differences, he was coming to like them.
"Ugh! Now you've done it. That thing smells terrible from all the way over here! Now it's going to come closer."
His oni senses were beyond offended, and had been half a mile away. The acrid smell of rot and darkness perforated the ruins, clinging to every stone like a damp shroud.
"Stop complaining." The archer knocked another arrow. "You'd have to get close anyway, unless you're going to throw that oversized meat cleaver of yours?"
Bron shot his teamate an ammicable grin. The teasing between them had become routine.
"True enough." He hefted his massive axe and taunted the dark mage's pet: "Come on then you sorry sack of crow fodder!"
Bron took one step, then broke into a run, raising the blade of his weapon level with his eyes but keeping the shaft before him. He closed the distance quickly, spinning the shaft at the last moment and turning the blade for a strike that, if landed, would slash the creature from nethers to nose.
He let out a bellowing war cry as he did:
"YAAAAAH!"
Kabboom Epiphany Midrick Unwavering Knight Trappy Spireshade ShiyaRose Slop

 

[Unwavering Knight]

Pryonn & Kaatl

Spoiler: 'Healing'

Unseen by all but the deftest eyes; in the knight's hand-wound - ringed by frayed edges where the ambushing scrapper's tail had torn right through - a trial commenced, an error continued. Flesh and metal quarreled and - like so many times before - the knight ruled in favor of iron. If the flesh would not serve, it was for the knight to sentence it to apoptosis. The blood sizzled and snapped back in anger as the metal sped forth undaunted, iron-wires slithering into wounded matter, propping up the flagging muscles and dominating the spiteful matter. The knight's fingers twitched ever so slightly as flakes of punished, charred matter escaped from the hole in his hand, armor ravening where flesh retreated.

An amiable pain. A purifying act.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"'What would happen if something were to happen to me'?" Pryonn echoed Terra's sentiment, his voice easing, mingling joyous thanks for her care "Perhaps, my good Lady, we both know the answer to that." He spoke gently, but with a smiling melancholy in his voice. Shaking his helmeted head, the knight carefully took hold of his Lady's hand, plated gauntlet lightly squeezing leather glove. He did not, however, rise to his feet instead remaining on his knees, helmeted gaze directed upwards at his dearest one, hand clasping hers.

Upon his shoulder the fairy sat, as always, eyes half-lidded, lost in unseen focus. Perhaps the magically-adept might have noticed the light presence of weak healing-spells being woven from her figure.

"Besides, my good Lady," he resumed, coquettish vigour pointedly banishing whatever dolor his tone carried "what is bravery without a proper dash of recklessness?" His plated visage gave a slight nod in direction of the threatening foes, still far, but their booming voices ringing wide and heralding the doom and gloom that came with their métier. "Please, my Lady," the knight's voice cleared "grant a favor for the impending battle, bless your knight, that he may strike a villain with holy might."

Addressed: Trappy

In Ruins Group: Midrick Vyseryx Trappy Kabboom Epiphany QizPizza Spireshade Slop ShiyaRose

 

[Epiphany]

Aymeline

The Giant made her way down the stairwell and sighed in relief that it hadn't collapsed until after she finished descending it. That relief fades swiftly as Aymeline feels the cold wind stirring, notes the way the grass dances unnaturally and, of course, the way the lesser Darkborne monstrosities flee in fear of what's coming. Now that she's in a wide enough space, she thumbs the White Warcry into its formal battlehammer configuration and readies to get some smashing done.

She's not disappointed.

The sight of the abomination is awe-inspiring, and not in a good way. Aymeline keeps herself from giving ground reflexively, but the sheer size of the monster made her want to. The strength of her fellow Guardians and of the other warriors who'd joined this effort buoyed her against the impending wave of darkness. It did nothing to diminish the weight of this opposition, though, its sheer supernatural strength pressing against her senses.

Of course, the Darkmage was the greater threat. But the abomination's size and mass made it a direct threat to those who could more ably engage the monster's master. Aymeline's grip on the White Warcry shifted as she looked across the field of battle at her foe. Then an arrow landed on the Darkmage, drawing the attention of the darkness. And in that moment, Aymeline dipped forward and dug her toes into the tile flooring, her boots cracking the ancient stone with her weight as she propelled herself forward. More adventurers had joined them and if she didn't engage the enemy now, the Darkborne might very well execute the whole of them before they had a chance to defend themselves. She ignored the Darkmage's hissing words and the despair they invoked. Instead, she called out in a high, clear voice that rang over the battlefield, projected from a woman nearly ten feet tall. "Rally! Rally now! For the Empire, the Light, and all we hold dear!"

And then Aymeline was upon the abomination, swinging into it with her mighty steel-jade warhammer that had never failed her.

 

[-robert-]

Leafa

The elven child sat against a tree, relaxing with her animal friends. Ko feasted on the polen of his new home, a sunflower the young elf had picked up previously. Pip rested on her lap, while she caressed his fluffy back. The most recent adicion to the group, Tooth, simply laid on her unoccupied hand... and stood there, not doing much. Leafa simply enjoyed the moment, with her eyes closed, she breathed in the breeze, that had an earthy and grassy scent to it. "Mommy... Daddy... I know you're out there... you have to be... you have to... I know you're not... and I'll find you... I promise..."

She was about to lose conscienceness and fall asleep, but a command from a familiar voice jolted her awake. As she regained her vision, she made out a familiar face in front of her, after the facial features and the messy, scruffy brown hair became clear, it was obvious who it was.

"'Ey there Leafa. What's with the Cavity on yer 'and? What happened 'ere?"

"Oh, hey! This is Tooth, I found her on the ground, and now we're friends! And don't worry about anything, some mouth creatures decided to show up, but we took care of them! They did eat all our food... but I'm okay! After I asked him, Pip brought me some... what was the name... nuts! Yellow-Hair taught me that! But, enough about me, how are you Clanny? Earlier today you seemed a little sad... is everything okay?"

Kabboom

 

[Slop]

Ezra, the Mad Scholar
Location: Ruins But Not Really​

"A paragon of vulgarity; how cantankerous. Albeit rather slow, you are olfactorily rather well-endowed.. Succubus Taryn. Unfortunate as it may be that I cannot say the same for you, I have long abandoned the dogmatic rituals and traditions of my people; and with it my irrationally barbaric and primitive resentment for your kind. I am Ezra, and although I am by essence a Seraph, not so much physically one. Though the crude and uncivilised behaviour you are displaying suggests otherwise, I am certain that you have taken notice of my peculiar build... Age has indisputably and will invariably continue to take a toll on this vessel in which I am housed within.

Despite the hitherto smooth-running alliance amongst Ezra and the Guardians, wholesome trust was a privilege he was not yet willing to impart to them. As would any cloistered, mad scholar who has lived the entirety of his life in absolute seclusion and isolation from society, Ezra found wisdom in practising prudence and sagaciousness around those who posed even the slightest chance of being a potential threat to him.

"Withal, action and consequence will invariably have their dreadful reunion; failure to practise etiquette and courtesy begets punishment. That said, I suggest you-"

...

"I hope you are as auditorily acute as you are olfactorily. Unforseen occurences of profound gravity have befallen us, and we are to attend to them lest we share the same fate as our erstwhile foes; dragged down into the crevices and cracks of oblivion by the abhorrent tendrils of death. Leader of the Guardians, we are to make haste if we intend on surviving the ordeal in which we soon will be thrown into; the fate of your companions here lies in your hand and leadership. As I am certain that many of you do as well, I sense within our vicinity for the first time in quite a while a potentially formidable foe. Remain vigilant; death waits for the slightest lapse in concentration."

Spell Duplication

Seraphic Halo

"This should serve you as a tonic against most nuisances foolish enough to stand within your respective vicinities, and more crucially the mephitic touch of even the more powerful Darkbournes. Be wary however, for the divine aura in which I have imbued in you all is finite in charge. Remind yourself to practise frugality. As for you, succubus.. supposing you are not masochistic by nature and hold no intention on subjecting yourself to the incandescent flames of the Light, the spell should do you no harm."


Addressed: QizPizza

 

[Trappy]

Maria

The Guardian slowly made her way out of the structure, eyes peeled to watch for any ambushing fiends, or the whereabouts of the pests that had cowardly and rather unexpectedly fled away from her company. A question bugged Maria's mind: Since when did Darkborne, these ferocious vile spawns that knew only to rip, tear and spread terror, learn to flee? As she was, Maria could not answer that herself, but from the creeping shadow emerged just the answer for her query. The Darkmage stood amidst the shade that seemingly shield its malicious self from the Guardian's gaze, and by its side: a hulking abomination and tainted flesh and nightmare-made materials, seemingly posed not to simply triumph over its preys: Maria and her company, but to consume them whole, flesh and soul - it is a travesty, a blundering mountain of rage, hatred. The girl raised her pole-arm as the Guardian scorned her foes with hateful eyes. The giantess rallied the company with a rousing call to battle and Maria was ready to join this renowned warrior in the fray.

"These viles reek of heresy, and their mere presence a slathering testament to the powers of the Dark's corruption, and a defiance to the order that the Empire represents." Maria said with disdain to her fellows. "These horrors must be undone!"

The girl dashed after her charging giant comrade, aiming at the beast's ankle. Maria went under the monstrosity and struck its right leg as Aymeline poised to strike with her war-hammer, and felt the violent contact of her blade to the abomination's skin as a dark, sickening fluid oozes out of the inflicted wound. The damage was only superficial - nowhere near enough to stagger the beast. The Guardian quickly retreated to prepare for another approach, when a creeping fog wall was erected, blocking off all possible retreats out of the cathedral yard's vicinity - most likely the Darkmage's doing. It was then that Maria spotted another group, seemingly normal adventurers on an arguably reckless quest to take on the Darkmage and its hulking lackey, as one of them charged at the fiends with an oversized cleaver and a powerful cry. For the Guardian, it seemed to her that the two groups might have found a common enemy.

A Regalian shall never shy away from battle, but Maria was going to make a temporary 'displacement' from the heat of battle to gather some potential allies to assist her company. The Guardian hopped over with her ability, landing just in front of the adventurers' wagon, and there she proclaimed.
"We are Guardians exercising the holy Light's will. Gallant adventurers, let us join forces to vanquish these evils for good and push on to the task's end!"

 

[QizPizza]

Taryn the Exile

Location: Ruins
Status: Mildly Confident (In Combat)
Disposition: Slightly Evil
Interacting With: Slop Kabboom
Mentioned: Epiphany Vyseryx @BioshockRP Trappy Midrick Unwavering Knight Spireshade

"Tsk. As long as you don't try to impart your 'holy judgement' on whomsoever you want, we will have peace." The succubus gave a scowl at the Seraph until she suddenly felt an extremely Dark presence and a horrid noise coming from the cathedral. Her head snapped towards the sound to find a Darkmage wrapped in black flesh, and a blood red cloak accompanied by a horrid Dark Beast that rivaled even Aymeline in size, composed entirely of Darkness and rotting flesh. The scent of rot and Darkness assaulted her nose the moment she took a breath, gagging her for a brief moment.

When Taryn recovered, she looked at the Darkmage with disgust. This was an abomination that not even Audun could compare to. At the very least, the Nephilim fought back against the Dark and tried to contain it. This being had fully given in Dark and allowed the fullest extend of its powers to course through its veins... Taryn's disgust only festered as she drew Azrael in her free hand and aimed both flintlocks at the Darkmage. In the edge of her vision, she saw the glint of an arrow striking the Darkmage's helmet to no gain. The Succubus traced the path of the arrow to a group of four brave adventurers. They would normally be annoyances, but against a Darkmage, one could never be to careful.

"It is our great joy to have found such good inspectors in a long while. The invigilators will delight at this offering of experience. Your resistence is palpable, admirable in fact. But the screams of the vipers and the screeching of the bloodshot winds call for change. It does not matter how many you are, for we are the creeping tide, come to drown you all."

She ignored the Darkmage's little speech as Aymeline rushed the Dark Beast. The giantess could handle herself, but she better not die. Taryn heard Ezra's little warning and received his little Seraphic Halo. It was tolerable at the moment, as long as it did not hinder her ability to cast spells and conceal herself. The Guardians' own Darling Princess Maria charge in right behind Aymeline and make her own rally call. All of it too dramatic and noble for Taryn's taste.

The Succubus spared herself the formality of words telling her allies to attack and wrapped herself in Light that turned her invisible, while in her place appeared a hologram of her . The hologram she summoned brandished Azrael and immediately dashed towards flank of the Darkmage and fired its flintlock. As it did so, Taryn fired a spike of ice from the real Azrael straight at the Darkmage in line with where the hologram was shooting from. The hologram continued to move, and as it passed by debris, it split into four additional holograms, all with different appearances and bearing either the lance or one of Taryn's pistols. They all then scattered and surrounded the Darkmage and the Darkbeast and stood as if they were ready to attack.

Taryn herself retreated to the edges of the cathedral she awaited for the others to make their moves and add to the chaos. The more targets the Darkmage had to keep track of, the more openings it would create for the Guardians. As much as she only wished for Aymeline and herself to survive the encounter, the other Guardians were imperative to providing the muscle needed to reach the artifact they were searching for.

 

[Soviet Panda]

Buras wasted no time when he reached the knight/squire duo. "Move, or die!" he shouted to the two as he forcefully turned the horses in the direction of the darkborn artillery. "Go!" And with that, he set them off and followed after. The three of them kept a close eye on each other, the more nimble Buras (comparatively speaking) wove his way deftly between his two mounted companions to strike at the Runners that got close to try and stop them, the sheer mass of the three crushing anything that got in front of them. The knight, though old, knew how to use a sword, and the squire, though inexperienced, still layed about him with such vigor that it more than made up for it. And so they approached the Rottapults, closer and closer they came to finishing their mission. And live or die, at least Buras would have taken a few of these dark creations with him.

Soon they were practically upon the creatures. Dashing ahead of the two horseman, who were slowed by the simple fact of them being in a forest and not wanting to break their necks, Buras struck at the few Darkborne left behind to protect the artillery, plus the Darkborne he had indirectly dragged back by simply ignoring them and heading straight for their artillery.