Fandom Fire Emblem: Twisting Horizons

[Thanny]

Varna Husk - Northwest Flank
Mention & Interaction - noxrequiem Kurteth

The archer, much like his fellow that Varna had slain beforehand, was too shocked to handle the strain of Seth ( Kurteth ) as he rushed in with the yell of a man in bloody rage. His bow arm failed him miserably, aiming in a rush and shot far too far to the left. The aftermath was not pretty. The force of the blow was enough to cut through flesh and bone, and while not enough to slash through him in entirety left a clean wound that carved deep enough to take only the best healers to heal proper. Barring that possibility, and if assuming Seth did not land a final blow while the bowman was too wracked in pain and panic to flee proper, he would never be able to use a bow again.

A little ways away, wild-haired Varna issued a manic smile that blossomed from the archer's being occupied by the newcomer. Even with the arrow still stuck after biting fiercely into his arm, the man was glad that there was a counterattack in the making, and that others helped with pressing the advantage and taking down the weaker support. That provided him with the time to fend off the enemy before him that charged with axe raised over his shoulder even over the distance of twenty meters between them. Varna took special attention to the enemy's garb. The opponent was clad in better armour than Varna's cloth and with a fur helm that staved off the cool of the night. Varna considered the helm to be nice to claim afterward, but first things first: he had to win.

The two axes clashed as Varna readied a defensive parry, and both weapons bounced free at odd angles. Varna had thought it enough to teeter his opponent, but the fighter was more trained than the rookie archers that had been claimed by Seth and himself. The weapon was brought back in, the enemy stepping a half-step back and providing a bit more room for recovery while still providing stability. A useful trick, thought Varna. Perhaps he should use that sometime.

His opponent kept attacking with a hail of blows, battering at Varna's defenses. Things might have looked bleak, but Varna had a plan and made his weapon descend, spinning out of the way of the axe and twirling counterclockwise. The enemy axe fell harmlessly by and cut only air, while Varna's axe took a long arc and met the flesh of the enemy fighter's chest while he tried to recover.

Thunk. Thud.

With blood pulsing quickly in his veins, Varna stumbled forward, breathing heavily. He had claimed his second life in this conflict, and he wondered how many more would fall before he did. He had no intent on dying, however, and slung his bloodied axe over his shoulder, checking on the situation. The archer had fallen, which left the one fending off against another axeman. He charged towards Branwen ( noxrequiem ), aiming to hack at the axe wielder she was fighting against. Perhaps when he had fallen she can answer some questions as to who she was and why she was here. He did not recall her from before.

 

[Dante Verren]

Elenora
Interactions: GojiBean Nellancholy Zombehs


Elen sighed in relief as her wind blast knocked the axemen over allowing the spearwoman to finish them off. She gave a small smile as the other woman's gave her thanks. Killing enemies wasn't exactly something she enjoyed, but saving allies was definitely a good feeling. Her spirits further lifted as the enemies began to pull back. She wasn't sure if this was them retreating for good, regrouping for another attack, or some other kind of tactic. A part of her nagged in the back of her mind that this was a trap. The enemy was trying to bait them forward away from their allies and supplies. Should they pursue, retreat themselves, or go help the northern front. It was a difficult question.

For now she put the thought aside, others could make the choice and she would follow. She wasn't a leader, she was a guardsmen. Instead Elen moved over to the spear woman Seeing as she was wounded and didn't have a wyvern for support like Dansly had, Elen figures she would offer her support. "Do you need a hand or a shoulder perhaps?" Even if the warrior was to proud to accept or actually didn't need it, Elen helping her was a way to keep helping the battle effort in what ever small way she could.

 

[Nellancholy]

And here came the mage, ever so helpful. Considering her own wounds, Danae thought she was a sight for sore eyes. But speaking of eyes, there was awfully little to see here in the forest. Visibility was getting lower and lower...they'd already inflicted a heavy cost upon the attackers, but being able to successfully make it out themselves was far from guaranteed. In particular, the formations of the archers seemed to have broken. Which meant fewer chances of being killed at range, but further ambush was still very plausible.

"Ugh..." Danae raised her wounded arm at Elen. "...your concern is appreciated, mage. However, you are...intact and your magic remains strong. I shan't weigh you down with my body. This wyvern will be the shield I need." Smiling through the pain, she gave Curga a little tap with the shaft of her spear. "Keep at range, oh sagacious one." This she directed to Elen. "Were you to come to harm, my heart would feel each wound as well."

She noticed Sei'rina, still doing her best. The temptation to call for her was great, but she had to hold on. If any remaining enemies knew they still had a capable healer...her peril would be even greater.

Dante Verren Zombehs GojiBean

 

[Bixir]

• Lucille - The Northwest Flank

• 
  noxrequiem Thanny Kurteth
  
  There was peace, up until that on moment that the air itself broke with the rush of steel and blood. It was a blur, many blurs, as men and women clashed against one another with the intent to end the other. It was not the first time that Lucille had been in this kind of situation before, but it was certainly the third or fourth time. She did not expect it to become any easier.
  
  She had kept to herself as best she could, outmaneuvering the enemy in the woods, taking sure strikes where she saw them, and backing out of fights when a window presented itself. She had not landed any killing blows yet, though her sword had certainly tasted blood. The rare glimpses she had of the crimson stains upon that iron told her enough. But then, her first true moment revealed itself. While remaining under the cover of thicket, Lucille saw one of the enemy turn upon another... though not completely. She had seen that hesitation before. It was what had gotten her father killed. Though death was assured no matter what she did, Lucille would not allow herself to make the same mistake twice.
  
  As Branwen continued to feel the moments creep by, her attention would be jarred by the splash of blood on her chest... though it was not her own. A tested blade stuck out of the man's chest from behind, forcing his wounds forward. His eyes widened one last time before he grew cold, and his body slumped backward. Lucille's sword sharply jutted out through the same opening that it had made, and she stood there, near as frozen as the woman before her. Lucille stared past her at Varna, a somewhat familiar face, though she still hesitated, struggling to process what had just happened.
  
  The sounds of battle around them managed to stir the woman's senses. She looked up at this stranger, astride a horse that... had wings? She had seen some pegasus riders among their own, but...
  
  Lucille's demeanor tightened, as did her posture. She raised her sword, guarding against any more surprises. "Who do you fight for?"

 

[ACHA]

Albert had been travelling for a few days now, trying to catch up with the forming resistance group. He's only heard bits and morsels of information regarding where this supposed group would gather in Lenmea, but it was enough for him to go on. It was already dark, but he had no time to rest as he knew he drew closer to his destination.

Just as he made his way through the trees, the faint sound of iron ringing and clanging together as they clashed started to make itself to Albert. "Fighting?" Albert thought to himself as he drew his hood to cover more of his face and conceal himself in the shadows. Slowly, Albert sneaked from tree to tree, getting more closer to where the noise was coming from, barely making noise as he moved through the shadows.

It was fighting. before moving in closer, he tried to take a grasp of the situation. He looked at those who were fighting. "Gurein uniforms, but there aren't that many of them... An advance party, perhaps." he continued looking at who the Gurein party was fighting. "Not a lot of matching outfits. Not a lot of cohesion fighting, either... They're probably who I'm looking for..."

Albert's grip on his spear tightened. It didn't hurt to be ready.

 

[GojiBean]

Sei'rina heard Dansly ask for healing, and gave a nod. She dashed over to walk by his side as he led Curga forward towards the North sector, healing as she went. Thankfully it didn't take long, and she paused to take a breath once it was over. Taking a moment to survey the group, she spotted Danae who also looked to be in need of healing.

Sei'rina wiped some sweat from her chin and jogged over.

"Miss Danae, hold still please." She urged.

She closed her eyes and focused her Staff, with a light illuminating from its orbs. Several moments passed, and the wound in Danae's arm closed fully along with other subtle wounds caused from the conflict. The soreness would be there in the injured arm for a couple days. But it was a small price to pay for keeping her arm when all was said and done. In Sei'rina's experience those who couldn't be healed often lost the limbs damaged in combat due to poor medical supplies and know-how outside of a the Heal Staff world. Surgery was usually the only option. Especially when wounds were left to get infected.

Thankfully, this wouldn't be necessary this time. Danae's arm had healed nicely and Sei'rina wiped a bit more sweat from her brow.

She was really getting tired. Healing took a lot out of her despite her being in good shape from her love of song and dance. But this was a different kind of fatigue. One that wasn't based solely in her physical fitness. She wasn't quite sure why it was making her so tired. But she wouldn't let this stop her. She had to keep going as long as this fight was still going on.

Zombehs Nellancholy Dante Verren

 

[Zombehs]

Dansly Rimeholt
Towards the northwest flank!
Interactions: GojiBean Nellancholy Dante Verren​

Chewing on the last bits of the herb, Dansly had to keep an eye on Curga as Sei'rina worked her magic and mended his wounds. The sensations might not have been painful, but they weren't something his companion was used to and Curga made that quite known as his tail slammed against the ground in discomfort. As a growl escaped from the Wyvern, Dansly turned to nod gratefully at Sei'rina for her aid. "Thank you. If you need to ride, just let me know," he extended the offer before he turned his attention forward again.

Another quick swig from his waterskin washed down the last of the bitter herbs, and Dansly wrenched his weapon free from the ground and spun it into a proper grip. His eyes narrowed as the unexpected reinforcements fleeing to the north gave their allies cause to falter, and he knew they couldn't afford to dally any longer. "Let's go!" Yelling out to rouse those around him into action, he glanced back towards Sei'rina and nodded.

Bracing himself with his free hand, Dansly hopped forward out of his saddle and relied on his legs to keep him steady on Curga's neck. "Easy there," he called out to his companion before he offered his hand to the healer. With a bare grunt of exertion once she took it, he helped haul her up and get her seated in the saddle. "Hold on tight," he called back to Sei'rina as he guided her hand around his waist. With her in place, Dansly took a moment to test just how limited he'd be with a passenger before he sighed. If this became a thing, he'd probably have to look into a saddle that could seat two!

A concern for later though, and he squeezed his legs against Curga to signal they should get moving as well. "Just a bit longer Curga..."

 

[Nellancholy]

"My eternal gratitude, dear maiden." The pain and encroaching numbness in Danae's arm swiftly receded as Sei'rina's blessed magic worked, ensuring that she wouldn't lose any more blood. Or worse, fall victim to infection.

She took a few seconds to clench her left hand into a fist and flex her arm. The damage was gone, but the muscles were still weak. Some things would simply take time to be fixed. But time was something that they were awfully short on. Would her body give out before a final victory was attained?

"Go with him, maiden." As Sei'rina got on Curga with Dansly, Danae nodded her approval. "Keep her safe, cavalier!" She called to Dansly. "Let not such a blessed one come to harm."

Briefly,Danae wonder whether Sei'rina was from one of those orders that swore themselves to chastity...

Such a mundane, mortal thought creeping in meant she was already feeling better. And that meant it was time to keep fighting. Snatching up her spear, Danae ran ahead to the northwest flank, ready to guard against any assault with the haft of her weapon.

Curga was probably going to take flight, so Danae took care to stay on a relatively open path, ensuring that they could cover one another without being obstructed.

Zombehs GojiBean

 

[Dante Verren]

Elenora
Interactions: Nellancholy
Mentions: Zombehs GojiBean


Elen gave a smile and a nod to Danea as she rejected her offer to help. Having to lean on one person so much in a fight was probably not a great thing, plus from Danea's point of view Elen was much ore fit to fight. The mage wasn't going to contradict her either, while physically she was fine since she was a back line, her magic was starting to run low. She had maybe just over a quarter of her magic left. While that was enough to fight it wouldn't be enough to turn the tide of a battle on it's own. She lingered for a moment longer, making sure that Sei'rina was moving over to do her healing.

Once the healer started her magic to fix up Danea, Elen turned on her heels and started heading off to the northern front. She caught of glance of the Wyvern taking off, both it's rider and Sei'rina riding on it's back. Meanwhile it seemed Danea was heading over to the northern front on foot. Turning her attention back to the front she headed for the opposite side of the Northern front from where she saw the rest of the group heading. Either that would allow her to catch a few of the enemy off guard or rally with some of their side.

 

[Kurteth]

Seth was barely able to keep his footing as he stumbled away from the archer he had slain.

Damn. His wound was opening back up. Not now damnit. This was no time to be blacking out from blood loss.

He turned towards Varna, just on time to see him Cleave a man across the chest. The armor of the fallen man, that was more than enough to tell. So *the alive* axe wielder was on his side. Good.


Watching him run off, Seth took to follow...until he froze.

Lucille's sword blasting through the chest of the man went unnoticed.

In fact, the whole battlefield seemed to fade away from Seth as his eyes locked onto that woman.

Her armor, her Pegasus. He had never met her, but he knew exactly who she was. Even her hair was similar.


He froze for a moment. Hopefully not a fatal one.


Bixir noxrequiem Thanny

 

[noxrequiem]

Branwen Corax
Pegasus Knight

- Northwest Flank -

---

Branwen continued to struggle against the force of the axe pressed against her sword as she hesitated. Her dark slate-grey eyes widened in shock as she felt a spray of blood against her chest, a few stray warm drops landing on her face as well. She dared to glance down a moment as she felt the resistance of her enemy’s blade weaken against her own, and was surprised to find a long slim blade poking out from his chest. Her newfound enemy slumped backwards, dead, and his body was soon sprawled out on the ground as her savior pulled the sword from him.

The pegasus knight was now face-to-face with the swordswoman who had come to her aid. There was a moment where neither woman spoke, seemingly frozen in their spot on the battlefield. The momentary spell was broken when Lucille’s body tensed and she raised her sword defensively towards Branwen. “Who do you fight for?"

Branwen’s eyes narrowed and she said nothing, drawing her own sword and raising it. With a quick thrust, her blade surprisingly did not strike at Lucille, but instead sliced into the gut of a Gurein fighter who had thought it a good opportunity to sneak up behind the myrmidon, killing him. Branwen’s attention was momentarily back on Lucille, flicking the blood from her blade as she answered the swordswoman’s question. “I no longer fight for Gurein. You can be assured of that.”

She looked back at the battlefield around her, surveying the scene. It seemed as though the tide was slowly shifting in the resistance fighter’s favor, but there was still work to be done. She started turning her pegasus away to her next target, but paused a moment and nodded towards Lucille. “Thank you for your assistance, by the way.”

With that, she wheeled her mount around, ready to charge back into battle when the sight of a vaguely familiar figure gave her pause. Her eyes locked with Seth’s and the surrounding battle seemed to fade, replaced with a distant memory. The scent of blood and scorched flesh was the same now as it was then, however. While the two had never personally met, she knew well enough of who he was. Mercenary. Her eyes narrowed just the slightest at him, but now was neither the time for memories or feelings that his presence dredged up in her.

---

Kurteth Bixir

 

[Thanny]

Varna Husk - Northwest Flank
Mention - noxrequiem Kurteth Bixir , Nellancholy

Varna breathed a sigh of relief when the fighter the pegasus knight struggled with had fallen -- stabbed through the back and out the front. He made bedfellows with scary and powerful people, it seemed, but then again he was a scary person himself if those last few lives he claimed counted in his favour. With all of the garnered attention on her, he sought instead to keep an eye on the enemy who had seemingly scattered, a bloodied axe on his shoulder. He will let them have their fun asking her questions in his stead.

Good grief, this wound smarts, thought he as he shifted the weight of his axe to between his neck and shoulder and -- his hand fried -- snapped the pointy end of the arrow that had shot through him. The arrow did not seem poisoned, so there was no reason to use the antivenin he had on his person, but the wound did not seem too dangerous to him to use Danae's vulnerary. With healing out of the picture, he felt killing was a better option. He had to score another kill if there was any more still in the area that still fought, and so he narrowed his attention to a spear-wielding individual, whose weapon was as poorly kept as his iron armour and half-helm, and whose gaze kept stealing cautious looks about him. Varna's smile was unrelenting upon this sight. Perfect.

He charged the spearman who had raised his weapon and noticeably was on the defensive. There was no meeting in the middle in this engagement, and to Varna's surprise the fight was more evenly matched than he had anticipated. Every strike he attempted was either dodged or parried with a swipe of the spear or the defensive block with a shield. His attacks were accurate too. It took much on Varna's behalf to defend himself when he felt he should be attacking. Perhaps it was exhaustion setting in. The trials of war were rigorous, but the enemy seemed to be in the same manner of exhaustion. It took effort for his opponent to move like that in the thick armour he was wearing, perhaps just as much as swinging Varna's iron axe.

After much back-and-forth clashing, Varna suffered a nasty wound to his leg, and one to his already wounded arm which he used to shield a blow intended for his good arm. Both times he yelped in pain and staggered back. His opponent sensed the weakness in him, but hesitation before committal proved dangerous. Varna capitalised on this and retaliated like a cornered wolf, bashing away the shield and ripping it from the man's grip. With a twirl, he cut diagonally and bit into the man's neckline with his axe, causing the spearman to drop with a look of shock and horror.

This was enough, Varna thought. He had done his part and survived for the moment, but for how long he did not know. The wounds were fierce, so he pondered: to return to Sey'rina, the healer he already knew about; or to use the vulnerary Danae gave him. Decisions decisions.

He decided, taking out the vulnerary and using it sparingly, only one dose's worth. The wounds were still there, but they were salved, and he felt better for it. He will have to thank the damsel later, wherever she was, as he headed back toward the others (Branwen, Seth, Lucille, and potentially Albert(?)) in the northwest, his lust for fighting sated for the moment.

 

[Nellancholy]

The chase continued, and as battered and beaten as their party was, Danae couldn't help but feel like their current state was less of valiant warriors pursuing their foes and closer to herders trying to corral sheep or chickens. Did that mean the tide had finally turned? Curga still bore Dansly and Sei'rina overhead in relative safety, and remained unharassed by arrows. Either the morale of anyone who had the capacity to do so had failed and they were on their way out...or their blood now stained the soil of the forest. How far would the pursuit continue? At what point would they consider the battle won and regroup? When would it be safe to do so?

They had to stop sometime...and try as she might to stay strong, Danae's own body could only go so long. But she definitely had a few more good stabs left in her.

Amidst the trees, not more than twenty meters away, a twig snapped. With the swing of a strong, well-muscled arm, an axe snapped forth.

"Ah...!" Danae noticed the glint of steel just in time, weaving to avoid the enemy axeman's parting shot. The axe drew nothing more than a tiny trickle of blood from Danae's cheek and a few strands of her hair. "You...!" She spun her spear in her hand, getting ready to throw it...but her attacker had vanished. Dansly might have been able to spot them from the air and punish their temerity if he so wished, but with their weapon now firmly embedded into a poor innocent tree, it was unlikely they would return anytime soon. "Beware, rider!" Danae called up to Dansly nonetheless. "They're getting desperate!"

Danae kept at her run, soon chancing upon the broad, blue-haired lad from earlier. The one from the house of Husk. He had thrown himself heartily into battle, his lust for blood clear. But was he looking to spill the blood of their foes...or his own? At least he had the presence of mind to use her gift to him, the tincture clotting his blood and holding the wounds together almost as miraculously as the healer's staff.

"Valiant one, I'd rather you didn't stick out your neck like that again." She hefted her spear, setting herself in a defensive position alongside him. "Our assailants are...felled." Which is to say murdered, butchered even. "Let us not trade more lives for theirs."

Thanny Zombehs

 

[ACHA]

Resistance members seemed to have gathered, but they had no inkling that there were people lurking around them. Gurein soldiers, swords in hand and getting ready to make easy-pickings of a tired and worn down foes. Then there was also Albert, who has spotted them, and followed the would be assailants. It was a contest as to who would hold the element of surprise longer.

"Attack!" yelled one of the Gurein soldiers as he charged out of the bushes followed by his allies. One of them, a myrmidon, was quick on his feet and immediately closed the distance while raising his sword getting ready to attack the axe-wielder.

The soldier swung his sword at the man, but it was met by iron followed by a loud ring as their weapons clashed. His attack was knocked back by Albert with a swing from his spear, saving the resistance fighter's life. Albert immediately charged at the Gurein soldier who was still shocked, but barely came to his senses in time to meet Albert. Albert swung his spear wide, but the soldier deftly dodged and closed in on Albert. He had a window to attack before Albert could retaliate, or so he thought. Albert handled his spear, using its pommel to strike his opponent back. It was enough to get the soldier unbalanced and buy Albert enough time to charge again. The soldier was able to recover more quickly this time and it seemed like his slash was going to land first.

Riposte.

Albert parried the slash away before thrusting his spear at his opponent almost in a single motion. Albert's thrust found its way to the soldier's throat, immediately killing the man. Albert pulled his spear back, and the myrmidon dropped to the ground like a ragdoll.

"All of you seem exhausted, but the fight isn't over." Albert eyed their enemies. "Come. The numbers are even." he told the resistance fighters as he readied himself once more.

Thanny Nellancholy

 

[GojiBean]

"Eep!"

Sei'rina was hoisted off her feet and up into Curga's saddle, pressed against Dansly's back with one arm pulled around his waist.

If it hadn't been for the suddenness of it all, she would have screamed in embarrassment. Not only was one arm now around his waist, but her chest was pressed into his back.

She wasn't embarrassed about her chest size, but... Still. She was rather well endowed. And she could feel them squishing against him.

Her face was bright red, and her mouth frozen half open as no sounds dared emerge save for the tiniest squeaks as Curga moved beneath her, forcing some air to escape her tightly shut larynx.

And if that wasn't bad enough, the more Curga moved the more she started sliding down the back of the saddle forcing her to both adjust her position and grip his stomach more tightly so she didn't fall off which only compounded the chest-against-back issue. Her Staff wasn't helping either. She couldn't exactly fold it across her lap or wrap that arm around Dansly. If she did it would hinder his ability to use his own weapon. So she had to hold it off to the side in a way that didn't poke Curga or interfere with Dansly's movements.

Goddess on high, how did I end up in this situation?! She thought as her beat-red face sunk slightly to hide behind Dansly's back.

Thank goodness for his broad shoulders.

All she could hope for at this point was for Curga to move gently, even if it was a combat situation. If he took flight, or started racing into battle at any decent speed, she didn't know if poor Dansly would survive how tightly she'd have to cling to him in order to not fall from the saddle.

Zombehs Nellancholy Dante Verren Kurteth noxrequiem Thanny ACHA

 

[Zombehs]

Dansly Rimeholt
Northwest Flank
Interactions: GojiBean Nellancholy ACHA​

He could feel Sei'rina doing her best to settle in behind him, but she wasn't holding on nearly as tightly as she could. "Put your staff in the holster." He leaned over a bit to get her attention before he reached down and patted the empty slot on the side of the saddle. Normally it would have held his weapon, but that was in hand and conveniently it seemed the hafts were comparable. "We're going to fly, so hold on as tightly as you can. You won't be cracking any of my ribs," he reassured the healer with a smirk before he waited for her to oblige. If she somehow did manage that, well she was also the best person for patching them up.

Relying on his legs to keep him locked atop Curga as his Wyvern took flight with heavy wing-beats, Dansly sat up straight and rested his free hand atop Sei'rina's arms as further reassurance for what might have been the girl's first flight. It would have been nice if the situation wasn't so dire or grisly though; first flights were something to be remembered fondly. Dansly certainly could still remember his own after all. It was a fleeting thought and concern though, and his eyes narrowed to peer down through the darkness towards where the majority seemed to have gathered. "I see them!" Calling back down in response to Danae's warning, he scowled as some stubborn bastards hadn't gotten the message that they'd already been routed. Well if they wanted to buy some time with their deaths, who was Dansly but to oblige?

"We're about to dive, lean in," he warned the healer before he leaned forward so Sei'rina could do the same. Then they were moving again, silent aside from the heavy flaps of Curga's wings. Well, maybe that and Sei'rina's screams if she had somehow found her voice again. Nonetheless, Dansly had to take his hand and brace his weapon with it as they swooped down in front of the group. Over the freshly fallen myrmidon and the spearsman responsible as he swung with the full weight of their dive behind his weapon. The shock that raced up his arms had his teeth vibrating in his skull, and there was a godawful screech as the spearhead slammed into a shield with enough force to bisect a man. While the Fighter avoided such a grisly fate, they still found themselves spun around and thrown to the ground from the force of the blow.

With Sei'rina right behind him though, Dansly couldn't just whip the naginata around for a follow up blow. Not unless he wanted to risk twisting her right off the saddle behind him.

 

[Thanny]

Varna Husk - Northwest Flank
Mention - ACHA @ Nellancholy

Varna turned about, surprised to see Danae again in the midst of the fight, as he had not seen her since the day before. Was she worried about little ol' him? He felt flattered and cracked a grin at that, his attention wrested from the battlefield at that moment.

"The less o' them, t' better, aye? I can look after meself 'n'--"

It was about then that Varna felt the faintest inkling of wrongness, and he turned to his blind spot to find an assailant fly toward him with the speed and grace of a swallow, sword outstretched and ready to hew the life from him. Varna, cursing his luck and own carelessness, attempted to defend himself, but it would have been too late either way. Knowing this, he flinched and braced himself for the end.

CLANG!

The loud ringing of metal meeting metal woke him up fully, and looking down he found that the sword had met the spear of someone he had never met before. He was defended from the vicious sickle of death by the newcomer, and just when he was showboating to Danae. This was . . . embarrassing to say the least. He had hoped to come around by helping the newcomer fight against this Gurein myrmidon, but the newcomer was again too fast for him and slew the enemy with a finesse he could never match with an axe. His axe slipped slightly within his grip as he lowered it and breathed out a ragged sigh.

"I owe you'z a debt, mate, iffin we get to survive all of this. Thanks," he replied to Albert, looking toward Danae sheepishly. Perhaps it was dumb on his behalf, but he did want to impress her. Nevertheless, there was much more to do, and the enemy was drastically small-changed in comparison to what it was before, same with their small force. The moment was do-or-die, and he had to match the moment. "Let's fend these curs 'n' blackguards off 'n' put 'em on t' run instead, yeah?"

Raising his weapon high and proud, he readied himself for running alongside his fellows towards the enemy instead of on his own.

 

[Nellancholy]

Between the two of them, they probably had it. But the lancer who had...cut in provided some welcome assistance. While he didn't quite show the same...thirst Varna did, it certainly seemed like he was fairly enthusiastic about arriving late to the battle, and then running down an enemy that was already broken and scattered, fleeing with their tails between their legs. Call it valor or call it bravery. The bards definitely would in the years to come. But already Danae felt a certain distaste well up in her throat. It was one thing to duel for one's honor, or to fell a mindless and ferocious beast. It was another to engage in pitched battle and to hack off limbs and disembowel humans by the score.

Perhaps it was just her own injury and fatigue talking. Even if she could back down now, she had no will to. Her purpose was just, as were those of her newfound comrades.

"You have the right of it, sir Husk." She panted. Her voice was nowhere as clear and calm as it was earlier in the evening. "Put them on the run we shall."

As the trio kept their pace, pushing through the brush, a figure dressed in red slipped between the trees.

"Got you!" Danae gasped. The haft of her spear swept along the ground, knocking the interloper's feet out from under them and bowling them over.

"Agh! P-please..." The young man in a red tunic lay on his back, raising his hands in surrender. His skin was coated with the dust, sweat, and blood of the day. The only usable armament that remained on him was a tiny knife strapped to his boot. Slung over his back was a bow...and an empty quiver. He was likely among the archers that launched the opening salvo. Any one of those arrows could have been responsible for the deaths that had befallen the party.

"..." Danae spun her spear, the point aimed at his chest but with enough room for him to wriggle out if he dared.

Thanny ACHA

 

[Dante Verren]

Elenora


Elen made her way to the northern battlefront, but her progress was slow. She stopped and help drag back wounded soldiers, put out fires with puffs of wind, and in general get a better grasp on the situation in the center of the battle before she would finally have made it to the norther front. By the time she reached the northern front things seemed pretty much settled. It was a bloody mess, somehow more savage looking then the southern front had been, maybe they had gotten hit a little harder here? Or more likey it was the combatants who fought more ferociously.

Sweeping the swiftly ending battle with her gaze she decided to crouch low to avoid any of the gurrian archer's gaze and move forward. If there were any major threats left then she would help deal with them, if not then she wouldn't really have to worry. Still her book was open and ready to blast away any enemy she had to. Luckily the much larger and more attention seeking allies she had did well to keep her enemies eyes away from her. That meant she could move generally rather quietly to who ever needed a bit of magical support.

 

[GojiBean]

Heavens above, what was happening?!

With her staff's end in the holster on the saddle as instructed by Dansly, and-...

Druasgjazlfegjagaiuehg!!!!

Dansly's hand came to rest on her arms which were around his stomach!

Her mind was beginning to go blank from all this! First it was a battle out of nowhere. Then there was blood everywhere. Then there was trying to regroup. Then she was hoisted into the saddle and holding onto Dansly with her chest pressed into his back. Now he was holding onto her arms and they were DIVING?!

Goddess Naga... Please, help me make sense of this!!

She wanted to scream, but she couldn't. Her voice was paralyzed from the fear of looking down at the ground during the dive and the stop at the end when Dansly landed a solid blow to the shield of a fighter before them. She felt the hit through his back against her chest. Such a strange, unwelcome feeling.

Divine Naga... Please, let this end soon! She prayed silently.

Zombehs Thanny Nellancholy Dante Verren

 

[Zombehs]

Dansly Rimeholt
Northwest Flank
Interactions: GojiBean Dante Verren​

"Damn." Clicking his tongue, Dansly sighed heavily as he finally moved his hand off Sei'rina's arms and shook his hands to get rid of the tingles. The dive was already pushing things for a first time rider and galvanting into the forest without the support of other allies? Well, he wouldn't be doing a great job of keeping her safe. He'd nearly put her in harm's way when he instinctively leaned aside to avoid the sword thrown out of desperation by the Fighter. He'd lost grip of his naginata when the weight on his back reminded him to raise it in haste, and the Gurein had taken the opening to scamper off.

Maybe the three pursuers would come across him and finish the unarmed man off. He couldn't see any sign of Danae or the two men in the immediate area after all. The fighting had died down as well, and what was left of their resistance group struggled to pull themselves together. The survivors were already busy at work recovering what supplies they could and helping the wounded. Taking a slow and deep breath, he reached down and patted Sei'rina's arms again in an effort to catch her attention. With her still holding on tight, it was nigh impossible for him to actually turn around and face her.

"Sorry for the roughness," he apologized before he reached down and pat Curga's neck a few times. "It'll be much smoother on the ground if you'd rather stay on just in case." Offering his companion as her mount for a bit longer, Dansly yanked his weapon out from the ground before he sat up straighter and waved at Els. "The others gave chase. Don't think you wanna try and catch up with'em." He remarked as his wyvern plodded over towards the mage, a bit more tired after fighting so ferociously.

 

[Thanny]

Between the two of them, they probably had it. But the lancer who had...cut in provided some welcome assistance. While he didn't quite show the same...thirst Varna did, it certainly seemed like he was fairly enthusiastic about arriving late to the battle, and then running down an enemy that was already broken and scattered, fleeing with their tails between their legs. Call it valor or call it bravery. The bards definitely would in the years to come. But already Danae felt a certain distaste well up in her throat. It was one thing to duel for one's honor, or to fell a mindless and ferocious beast. It was another to engage in pitched battle and to hack off limbs and disembowel humans by the score.

Perhaps it was just her own injury and fatigue talking. Even if she could back down now, she had no will to. Her purpose was just, as were those of her newfound comrades.

"You have the right of it, sir Husk." She panted. Her voice was nowhere as clear and calm as it was earlier in the evening. "Put them on the run we shall."

As the trio kept their pace, pushing through the brush, a figure dressed in red slipped between the trees.

"Got you!" Danae gasped. The haft of her spear swept along the ground, knocking the interloper's feet out from under them and bowling them over.

"Agh! P-please..." The young man in a red tunic lay on his back, raising his hands in surrender. His skin was coated with the dust, sweat, and blood of the day. The only usable armament that remained on him was a tiny knife strapped to his boot. Slung over his back was a bow...and an empty quiver. He was likely among the archers that launched the opening salvo. Any one of those arrows could have been responsible for the deaths that had befallen the party.

"..." Danae spun her spear, the point aimed at his chest but with enough room for him to wriggle out if he dared.

Thanny ACHA

Varna Husk - Northwest Flank, with Danae and Albert

The Gurein soldiers appeared to be in full rout, sprinting as well as they could away and leaving their comrades behind either to survive and regroup or merely survive. Varna paused alongside his fellows, no longer feeling a craving to do battle, and exhaustion was kicking in. If he continued, he would most certainly be overrun by numbers alone, and no chance ally in the area can save him. He had a long way to go to be better so that these grunts cannot scratch him. He longed for that day. He could protect everyone then, and restore some legacy to his fallen house with his tale.

What Danae had spoke to him resounded as a whisper to his occupied mind that grew slowly in strength. The sight of her snagging a young enemy archer's footing caught him in humorous fashion, but something seemed odd. Searching further, the young lad looked just like his brother over the distance. Age, size, face -- there may have been small differences, sure, but it was the likeness of his younger brother Aleksis. Without thinking he stepped in.

"This may be rich comin' from me, but let's let the boy go maybe, after givin' up 'is bow, that is. He's spent," he replied, holding out his hand before Danae.

He was not trying to block her, not directly, but he wanted to have himself seen and heard before a verdict. The issue was that he did not have a good reason to stop her. She was doing the same he did, right? Was it just the boy's face? Looking down, he saw the likeness again, but the defining features of the youth too.

"He looks just like 'im. My brother, I mean. What brought a face . . . like Aleksis' . . . into battle?"

He felt as if he was prattling now. Maybe it was the blood loss. He did feel his vision spiral like a stirred soup and cause him to reach up to hold his head. His feet attempted to keep him upright beneath him. He was in no condition to keep speaking, so he backed away a little and remained silent with a sorrowful expression, leaving it to Danae to decide either way.

 

[Nellancholy]

"..." Danae almost wanted to urge Varna to keep quiet. Despite the...avowed enthusiasm that he displayed throughout the evening's proceedings, the exertion had clearly taken a toll on his body and mind. Had he not closed his wounds earlier, he would not even be standing here now, ragged as he was. This was an ugly situation, one that no few stories described. But there was no dramatic tension or pathos in this moment, just the smell of sweat, dirt, and blood.

Danae had had her fill of blood today, and her body felt empty. But how could she justify letting an enemy go free when so many on their side had already fallen today?

She raised her spear.

"Wait..." The young man gasped. The breath that remained in him was insufficient for a shout or a cry of defiance.

The tip of the spear went beside his leg, prying the knife out of its holster and then digging into the ground next to his bow, ensuring he could not withdraw it. The motion was deliberate but swift, like the motion of a conductor's baton or a seamstress' needle.

"Go. And I hope we do not meet again."

Head nodding and hands trembling, the man rose, his legs carrying him away into the trees as fast as humanly possible without so much as a "thank you".

Danae leaned towards Varna slightly, but did not move to support him outright. "Take a seat if you must, Husk. You've strained yourself enough." She was quite content to drop herself on the ground for a minute or so too. It seemed Albert would not quite have the battle he wished for.

 

[Thanny]

((Here is a wee half-post to accompany the new posts, chiefly exposition and a reaction.))

Varna Husk - Northwest Flank with Danae

The youth was spared, and Varna was glad. It may not have been the best move on his behalf, but in a way he spared his younger brother, and was spared of seeing "Aleksis" die. Looking over to Danae and murmuring a word of thanks, he planned to do something more elegant, but that was not in the cards. He teetered one more time, the world spinning in nauseous fashion, and dropped to one knee.

Here on the ground the vertigo was much less problematic, and it got considerably better when he fell on his behind and caught his breath. A narrow victory, one may call it, and such a skirmish is hardly the stuff of legend, and maybe not anything to change a war. Perhaps it was better to think of it as living another day. Yeah, that was better.

He wanted to ask questions toward his companion on the ground like before all of this, but caught his tongue. Such things would be better asked later when injuries were turned to restorations, but what did she think of him? Probably ill. He felt ill of him too. Hopefully both opinions would change in time.

 

[Dante Verren]

Elenora
Northwestern Front
Interactions: Zombehs GojiBean


Away from the last embers of battle that waged on the northwestern front, Elenora did her best to help with the reorganization effort. Whether it was helping carry fallen corpss into piles, help wounded comrades into a better position/to a medic, or carry what ever supplies she could manage. Basicily it was back to doing the dirty work. She was fine with others taking the glory. She didn't fight for fame or anything like that, just because it was her duty. At this stage of the battle her duty could encompassed more that just helping mop up enemies. She still had a bit of magic left, but her spark for killing Gurian's had been depleted.

So it was that she was helping gather up some of the meager supplies that had been spilled onto the ground during the battle at the northwestern side. It was difficult, finding bits and pieces that weren't splattered by blood or ruined by the trampling of feet. She sighed as she scooped the last of the salvageable bits into the crate, and with a grunt of effort pushed it back upright. The more she could get done now while the fighting was ending, the less they would need to do later when it was completely over. Some might call her a coward, but oh well. They could just say what they wished. The motion of something large caught her attention and she looked up to see the wyvern rider with fresh blood on his weapon and Sei'rina clinging to his back move over to her. He even waved. Elenora waved her hand and gave a small salute in respect.