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Ophelia Barrows & Gaius de Leon
Location
: Halamead
Interaction:
Orikanyo Orikanyo (Magnus) Fred Colon Fred Colon (Merin) The Smiling Monkey The Smiling Monkey (Zeinab) Hexblood Bandit Hexblood Bandit (Vrogak)
Mentioned: KennethPhoenix18 KennethPhoenix18 (Aielwin)
The crowd of town folks pushed passed the half-elf and paladin, screams and cries of panic and grief as they watched their homes burn, Gaius seemed frozen as he watched the distant figure of the general fade against the hills. His jaw clenched, attention quickly turning back to Lady Almasi. "Run, join the citizens in city hall." He commanded as a familiar three-toned whistle hit the air. Fen'dral came to his feet, the wolf quickly turning to grab the hilt of Gaius' longsword. Picking it up, the beast scanned the crowd and found the paladin, his paws thundering against the cobblestone to reach him. Only seconds passed before the wolf was by the man's side, allowing him to make his sward before running off to find his master. Pulling the sword up, he raised and turned it just in time to block an attack from one of the soldiers. "Go Zeinab!" He called. It was clear that these people were not checking for the difference between local and visitor.

Ophelia used Magus as a cover, a wave breaker of sorts to get through the crowd, sticking close to his back before she could break away and find her bow. Her and Gaius' supplies were where they remained, her faithful complaining guarding them until she slid down to avoid a stray arrow, coming to a stop just behind the bench. She grabbed her bow and quiver, slipping her short sword onto her belt as quickly as possible just as Fen'dral let over the bench. His jaws closed around a soldier's arm, causing a scream to leave him as Ophelia dipped aground the bench. She brought her bow up sideways and brought it down over the soldier's neck, pulling back as Fen'dral kept his grip on the man's arm. It only took a few seconds for the man to give in, falling unconscious away from Ophelia's grip.

Gaius brought his sword down, metal against metal clashing as the blade hit helmet. His opponent crumpled, allowing Gaius to find his partner. He was fortunate she was not to far away and he was able to get to her and her wolf quickly. "We need to help these people Gaius." He nodded, Ophelia counting how many arrows she had. He nodded without skipping a beat.

"High ground or low ground?" He asked, chasing the elf to look up and obverse her options. She didn't have many, but down the street just a little was an untouched building, separated just enough the blaze hadn't reached it yet.

"High ground, get me up there," The woman spoke, pointing to the building. Gaius nodded, and the two began moving. Once they reached the house in question, Gaius sat his sword against the wall and Ophelia stepped up into his hands. And with one swift move, Gaius had tossed the small woman up onto the roof. She landed on her feet, settling quickly as she notched an arrow, and took aim. She released it, the arrow finding it's mark in the exposed knee of an soldier trying to sneak up behind her new orc friend with the foxtails. As Ophelia began to disable targets and leave them vulnerable, Gaius and Fen'dral joined the battle.

As Gaius closed the distance, he was soon in the presence of the dwarf from earlier. Who was now singing? But battle songs were common and often heard on the field of battle from both sides. Gaius had plenty of experience with them. His focus was on their flank, watching the soldiers try to find an opening between those two and the old, grotesque looking orc nearby. There was only one opening, and a bold man decided to take it, his sights set on Vrogak. But the wolf pounced on the man, knocking the soldier into the nearby wall.

As attention was briefly on the wolf, another man tried to take over the dwarf, Gaius turned quickly and swung over the short man, hitting the soldiers with the broad side of his sword to make space before drawing back and sending a thrusting blow into his side before swinging low to knock him down. The wolf then pointing on the downed man as well, slamming his head against the ground to knock him unconscious. Another arrow flew by, landing in the shoulder of an archer taking aim.
 
Cavilina Rabityth
Location: Above and, subsequently, amidst the chaos along the evacuation route.
Mentions: Fred Colon Fred Colon , kasigi kasigi

Far above the dancing throng of Halamead, Cavilina swung in her own sort of waltz; her slight shadow cast in lazy circles as she drifted around the busy square below. Sharp eyes flicked from figure to figure—the many humans, the towering orcs, the shining pauldrons of an out-of-place dwarf—each catching her interest for just a breath before it fled to the next, though the firey reflections that bounced from the last gave her more pause than most. Eventually, her gaze settled on the little market that stood stoic amidst the busy movement of the town. Cavilina’s wide brows pinched together in open revulsion at the roasted meat that, now she’d noticed it, seemed to be held by some third of the townsfolk. She would never understand why that ill stench seemed so ingrained in the very dirt of the world. Every town was bathed in it. Every human reeked of it. Still, where there was burnt flesh, there was always raw. That was worth someth–

There. A dark blotch amidst the bright crowd, an elf sat, his raven dress and pearly skin catching the Harpy’s eye as he reached a bare arm towards her. She tensed, heart skipping faster and muscles drawing together as she eyed the distant stranger. She’d come to accept that townsfolk’s attention more often brought a hail of arrows than it did anything else. Yet, the druid’s words seemed to ring true—there were no scrambling guardsmen, no overconfident hunters, nothing of the sort. She doubted the elf would notice, but she dipped her head in silent greetings nonetheless as her shoulders relaxed. Perhaps this really was a kinder village than those the Faye had stumbled into before?

For the first time, Cavilina found herself wondering what it might be like to live in this little hamlet, an equal amongst the other races. Fanciful visions of impossible futures played through her mind and she found a wistful smile tugging at her lips despite herself. Still, these things never last long, and, as a veritable tide of glittering armor and emerald banners sent the townsfolk into chaos and bloodshed, the wildling knew she would never have a place in Man’s world—nor would she ever understand His drama.

A deep, primal sort of panic took hold of the Faye’s chest as the fires below grew, for there was very little she’d come to fear more than the licking tendrils of an unleashed flame. Yet, even as her mind clouded in terror, some inexplicable resolve came to her—an iron will that refused to see her flee back into the wilderness. It was madness, pure and simple, for her to stay here; but, as a gentle talon plucked away at the slight chain that hung from her neck, Cavilina knew she would not be able to leave, even as every fiber of her being longed to do so.

Soon, though, the choice was to be taken from her. Billowing smoke had risen as the Faye battled with herself, and, by now, it had clouded much of the once-bright sky above Halamead and engulfed Cavilina. The acrid smog was quick to choke the air from her frail lungs, leaving them lurching in desperate spasms as her body fought for the air that simply wasn’t there. And so, she plummeted—eyes stinging and mind aflame as she fell ever further towards the orange battlefield below. She clutched her constricted throat as her flailing wings fought to slow her descent, her movements jerky and ineffective as panic clouded her thoughts. Finally, finally, her instincts took over as the world came into view once more. Her wings shot open and her body coiled as the smoke gave way to clear air. It was much too little and much too late to keep her airborne, but it was enough to save her life.

She hit the ground hard. The singing pain in her legs promised much more than a bruise, and what little breath she’d managed to pull before landing was forced out of her as she crumpled to meet the dirt. Her lungs fought to recover, leaving her retching up black tar and gulping for clean air; and, though her vision was shuttered and blurry, she could just make out the emerald tabard of the soldier that loomed to her left as he plunged his blade into one of the drably-clad town guards. The soldier’s bloodied sword and hateful eyes left no time for recovery or thought as he turned to face the downed Harpy, and she scrambled to her feet even as her body screamed for her to collapse. Still operating entirely on reactionary instinct, she reached deep into her magical reserve and summoned forth a blast of arctic power that immediately snuffed the embers burning at the man’s feet as the temperature around him fell just as dramatically as Cavilina had, freezing blade, blood, and bone in mere moments. The man was reduced to little more than a statue long before he realized the gravity of his mistake.

Dazed, she scanned around, trying to get a feel for where she’d landed. Fortunately, she wasn’t quite in the thick of the melee, though she wasn’t far from it either. Battle raged before her—she even spotted the dwarf’s shining armor amidst the pack brawling in the square—and townsfolk scampered past, heading behind her, as she settled her spinning head. Though some part of her wanted nothing more than to curl up and wait for the chaos to settle, another, larger part began to scream out in indignant fury as she stared at the frozen soldier before her. In that moment, the man’s verdant tabard with its meaningless imperial sigil seemed to reflect everything she—and most of her kind—hated about humanity: The destruction, the greed, the superiority. “Hver er dýrið núna?!” She shrieked at the corpse and all he stood for, her rage crackling through her and entwining with her magic as she turned to face her next foe.

There was little she could do in the chaos of the square, but she could wreak vengeance upon the Liomuran infantry that were trying to chase the fleeing townsfolk. A winter’s chill fell around the Faye as she limped forth and, once again, reached into the veil of magic and pulled forth a frozen javelin that flew on to imbed itself in the flank of an unfortunate soldier. The wildling’s fury was not an easy thing to quell, and, as a pair of emerald soldiers broke off to face her, it flared brighter than any of the surrounding flames. These men had made a dire enemy of the wildling today, and they would learn to regret that error.
 
Aielwin Caiharice

His brief conversation was cut short by a lofty procession of what seemed to be human nobleman, one in particular demanding mayor. Who did presented himself in quick fashion, he was given in edict demanding a mage. Ale like many were confused by the men's tact but once the leader, the General he was called for destruction, and the confusion turned to panic. Thankfully his training sprang to life, turning panic into resolve, Ale instinctively casting Feather Step to lighten himself pushing forward.

He looked for the closest man with a sword and finding as man cladded in armor. Continuing to trust his instinct, Aielwin jumped at the man who was lighting a near by home on fire. With an enhanced leap, flew to the man. Feather Step actively reduces Aielwin's weight so he knew not to just landed on the solider but instead used his arm to grab his neck and pulled him down. It worked, mildly well but enough to throw the man off balance. To follow, he grabbed the helmet and spun it to cover his face. The whole action was only a breath to Aielwin, as he continue to push the man to the ground, and ended the enchantment, switching to Stone Skin. The extra weight was needed, as he raised his foot and stomped on his head. Only trying to squeeze the helm to the man's head and not kill him.

With him dispatched, Aielwin pulled the sword from the sheath, and immediately groaning inside. 'These humans makes their swords too heavy! Need to use the Root stance, by his Light I hate this.' But there was no time to complain Aielwin cut the burning straw from the roof and moved forward. "Always move forward!" He whispered to himself, switching back to Feather Step. In the back of his in he regretted the drink but did he know he was going to be in a fight...? Again his grandfather's training pushed him. Find the enemy, siege the advance. Seeing another solider trying to light a home on fight, he struck. His step truth, and with a single move the man became two, a body and a head. The added weight did help in the cut.

It was at this point Aielwin, took a moment to look around and let his senses settled. Seeing others at taken the call to defend, the orcish man he saw early was slaughtering men, as he should. The air had a strange mix of ash and cold... Turning he saw what is thought to be legends, a fay creature fighting with ice magic, but what truly caught his attention was a dwarven war song. It was proud, deep, and forceful. Aielwin had heard, just recent in his trip to Odelun. He saw where it was coming and again just moved. Cleaving another man in half, with his Fire Strike. Aielwin, realized a sword like this could only do two more before breaking from the heat. He didn't care, Aielwin saw the dwarf was pulling people to himself and he didn't want that to see him fall. Another man felled, Aielwin stood to the dwarf's man, fending off another attackers. With a grin he said. "Your song, is truly of dwarven pride. I have hear it once before but not like this! I'll fight with you til the end of your song and further if you allow me! I am Aielwin." He then enchanted his sword with flame in hopes to ward off foes. The little voice in the back of his head wish he'd had his armor and weapons and not a straw hat and stolen sword.

Referenced: Lord Mitmar Lord Mitmar Orikanyo Orikanyo
Mentioned: Fred Colon Fred Colon
 
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Chapter One: Halamead
17th of Calder, 1032
As the battle raged, the few brave souls who chose to defend the citizens of Halamead would watch as the fires quickly spread. The heat from the flames mixed with the late summer sun, beating down on their armor. The house frames were catching quickly, heavy oak beams growing weaker and weaker by the second. But the heat and buildings weren't the biggest threats. The smoke had quickly smothered the fresh breezes and filled the lungs of the heroes and few citizens still racing to get to the town hall, trying its best to choke the life out of them. From one of the roofs, a small form jumped down, stumbling a bit in her landing as she coughed, trying to clear her airways as a paladin struck down a soldier trying to smite the archer while she was down.

"We need to retreat!" He called out, a cough following his booming voice. The longer they waited, the less clean air they had, the less time they had to try and push the men back. It was a dark day, the sun slowly being consumed by the smoke as the fires raged, the heroes were facing a hard choice. One of fight or flight, survival or glory. A choice they would need to make quickly as smoke choked them and stung their eyes, closing in on what little pockets of clean air they had left. "To the town hall, the citizens need protecting!"
 
Magnus

To fight well is to fight bravely, but one must know to fight alongside others if you wish to survive longer than a week. And with others backing up, it was his turn to get moving as well. A parry, a slash into a clintch, leading into a headbutt got the soldier flat on his ass. And with a swift kick to the face he was down, but Magnus had no time to savor such victories. Citizens, guess these folks are more or less a tribe on their own now.. And one that has been harmed by another for the sake of one fellow...

Who may not even be here at all.

Nothing more worthless than wasteful battle. Odena frowns on such things, the people were not warriors, nor was this to test one's steel or exact revenge. There were less wasteful ways to smoke out a fox, this, was truely barbaric...

So, it was time to meet up with other combatants.

Sounds were all around him, but the words calling to rally at the town hall seemed to be the most prudent to follow.

With great swiftness he began traversing the battlefield, ducking under stray swipe of blade, kicking pursuer into their own allies, he was a whirlwind of action, one that seemed there but a moment then gone in another blink, where some may be speacialized in duels, one on one fighting, even admist large crowds one may find those moments. he was a master of the chaotic skirmish,quick heeled and light on his feet, he would dart in for a blow, then dash out of reach before retribution could follow.

it was, after a point, he realized he didn't know exactly what the town hall looked like...

Was it the biggest building? or was that something else?

Instead, he chose to follow the crowd, where others went he would follow.
 



Seems the Orc's itching for a fight! Elret couldn't help but respect a warrior's passion, watching as he prepared for battle as naturally as he breathed air, as noisy as it may be. Peering upon the chaos, Elret couldn't help but wonder about the necessity of his contract. As serious as the situation was, he didn't want to risk calling upon aid unless absolutely necessary. It's not like Elret was wholly dependent, either way. His train of thought was broken as the Orc offered a dagger to the Elf, catching Elret's attention before "Vrogak" formally introduced himself. It's a name Elret would be sure to remember - after all, orcs were a mystery to him, considering he hadn't met many. "Right, Vrogak. Elret is my true name. I do hope to see you make it out of this. Though, I definitely don't doubt you - your scars show your strength, friend!" Reasonable or not, Elret seemed to trust the Orc. Perhaps not with his life, but trust him nonetheless. After all, most Elves treated other races rather poorly. "I'll see what I can do."

Reaching for the dagger entrusted to him, he decided he may as well make use of it. Elret only really needed his chains to restrain his foes, after all. Elret's fingers grasped onto the handle with a reversed grip, forgoing a fighting stance - after all, he wasn't skilled with the blade. As the heavily plated Orc entered the event horizon of the battle, Elret scanned the area in an attempt to stop any more fires, believing it best to salvage as much as he could. It was strange; Elret didn't care for this town in particular, nor was he trying to protect anyone or anything. It was simply a natural reaction, influenced by the will of others. In the end, it allowed him to stay in touch with his morality. Following along the outskirts of the battle, he wanted to analyze the situation and approach it without making too much of a scene. Luckily, Elret drew little to no attention to him, as he wasn't perceived as much of a threat. A lithe, pale Elf wasn't exactly a high priority target when it came to battles like these. Inhaling deeply, his chest rose briefly. He hadn't used any mana today, so he'd have to warm up a little bit.

Before moving to the heart of the battle, Elret had, luckily, managed to remind himself about the airborne Faye, who's wings cast shadows upon the town mere moments before smoke choked the celebration. The Harpy had caught his eye once more just as she had dispatched her first foe with the howl of winter, bringing a swift demise to the unlucky opponent. Now that the Faye was closer to the ground, he was able to get a much better idea of her appearance. It was hard for Elret not to admire the natural beauty that Faye possessed, no matter their appearance. The untouched, primal nature of Faye always allowed them to leave an impression on all that they met. This Faye, in particular, displayed a dazed, initially unsure demeanor, explained by an untimely fall from grace. Elret, in a moment of clarity, sought to aid the Faye - after all, a mistake could mean an injury. Channeling his dark magics, Elret ended up closing the distance between him and the Faye rather quickly, emerging from a manifested shadow within the blink of an eye. Just as he had manifested a few feet away from the Harpy's fury, he watched as two soldiers moved to slay the Faye. Whether his presence was noticed or not, he had made his move, one of his graceful arms out towards the two. Elret's focus brought forth explosive chains, manifesting from beneath the armor-clad soldiers as they ran. As the chains wrapped around their limbs and torsos, the two armor-clad soldiers were entirely restricted in their movement - struggling against the tenebrous chains as they slowly sapped away their energy. "To attack a Faye, how uncouth. No, much more dire than that, surely." The Faye would find that the voice spoke from behind them, slightly off to their right. Now that the two were restrained, his attention had prioritized the tiny, avian-esque Faye. "Are you hurt?" Elret's arm now rested once more in a neutral position, with his other still grasping the dagger he had plucked from the bench. He was hoping to finish off the job, but the Faye seemed more than prepared to be the headsman of this particular execution.

Listening to the call for action a distance away, he knew that a decision needed to be made. "The townsfolk hope for aid. I do not wish to ask of anything from you, especially if you're in an uncertain condition. On the contrary, I believe the town hall would serve as a temporary sanctuary. I do not with to see you in pain, truly." Elret reached out a hand that sought to aid. If the Faye needed assistance, he would provide.


ELRET


Location: A festival turned battlefield!
Mentions: Everyone else!
Interactions: Lord Mitmar Lord Mitmar


code by yousmelldead



Seems the Orc's itching for a fight! Elret couldn't help but respect a warrior's passion, watching as he prepared for battle as naturally as he breathed air, as noisy as it may be. Peering upon the chaos, Elret couldn't help but wonder about the necessity of his contract. As serious as the situation was, he didn't want to risk calling upon aid unless absolutely necessary. It's not like Elret was wholly dependent, either way. His train of thought was broken as the Orc offered a dagger to the Elf, catching Elret's attention before "Vrogak" formally introduced himself. It's a name Elret would be sure to remember - after all, orcs were a mystery to him, considering he hadn't met many. "Right, Vrogak. Elret is my true name. I do hope to see you make it out of this. Though, I definitely don't doubt you - your scars show your strength, friend!" Reasonable or not, Elret seemed to trust the Orc. Perhaps not with his life, but trust him nonetheless. After all, most Elves treated other races rather poorly. "I'll see what I can do."

Reaching for the dagger entrusted to him, he decided he may as well make use of it. Elret only really needed his chains to restrain his foes, after all. Elret's fingers grasped onto the handle with a reversed grip, forgoing a fighting stance - after all, he wasn't skilled with the blade. As the heavily plated Orc entered the event horizon of the battle, Elret scanned the area in an attempt to stop any more fires, believing it best to salvage as much as he could. It was strange; Elret didn't care for this town in particular, nor was he trying to protect anyone or anything. It was simply a natural reaction, influenced by the will of others. In the end, it allowed him to stay in touch with his morality. Following along the outskirts of the battle, he wanted to analyze the situation and approach it without making too much of a scene. Luckily, Elret drew little to no attention to him, as he wasn't perceived as much of a threat. A lithe, pale Elf wasn't exactly a high priority target when it came to battles like these. Inhaling deeply, his chest rose briefly. He hadn't used any mana today, so he'd have to warm up a little bit.

Before moving to the heart of the battle, Elret had, luckily, managed to remind himself about the airborne Faye, who's wings cast shadows upon the town mere moments before smoke choked the celebration. The Harpy had caught his eye once more just as she had dispatched her first foe with the howl of winter, bringing a swift demise to the unlucky opponent. Now that the Faye was closer to the ground, he was able to get a much better idea of her appearance. It was hard for Elret not to admire the natural beauty that Faye possessed, no matter their appearance. The untouched, primal nature of Faye always allowed them to leave an impression on all that they met. This Faye, in particular, displayed a dazed, initially unsure demeanor, explained by an untimely fall from grace. Elret, in a moment of clarity, sought to aid the Faye - after all, a mistake could mean an injury. Channeling his dark magics, Elret ended up closing the distance between him and the Faye rather quickly, emerging from a manifested shadow within the blink of an eye. Just as he had manifested a few feet away from the Harpy's fury, he watched as two soldiers moved to slay the Faye. Whether his presence was noticed or not, he had made his move, one of his graceful arms out towards the two. Elret's focus brought forth explosive chains, manifesting from beneath the armor-clad soldiers as they ran. As the chains wrapped around their limbs and torsos, the two armor-clad soldiers were entirely restricted in their movement - struggling against the tenebrous chains as they slowly sapped away their energy. "To attack a Faye, how uncouth. No, much more dire than that, surely." The Faye would find that the voice spoke from behind them, slightly off to their right. Now that the two were restrained, his attention had prioritized the tiny, avian-esque Faye. "Are you hurt?" Elret's arm now rested once more in a neutral position, with his other still grasping the dagger he had plucked from the bench. He was hoping to finish off the job, but the Faye seemed more than prepared to be the headsman of this particular execution.

Listening to the call for action a distance away, he knew that a decision needed to be made. "The townsfolk hope for aid. I do not wish to ask of anything from you, especially if you're in an uncertain condition. On the contrary, I believe the town hall would serve as a temporary sanctuary. I do not with to see you in pain, truly." Elret reached out a hand that sought to aid. If the Faye needed assistance, he would provide.
 
As Merin hooked his axe around the leg of one of the soldiers, giving it a sharp tug and sending the soldier toppling to the ground, he was forced to lift his shield to stop the blade of another soldier before he could finish the man on the ground, forcing him to take a step back. He lashed out in a broad, sweeping cut whose intent was not to hit any of the soldiers that were slowly beginning to surround him, but drive them back, give him some breathing room. They hemmed him in from all sides, pressing him back towards the house that he had stopped the first four soldiers from burning.
All for naught, it seemed, since a nearby burning home had caught the house alight anyway.
He took a deep breath, to continue his song. There didn’t look to be a way out. Of course there wasn’t. He’d attracted the attention of half the soldiers in the square. At least, there wasn’t until he heard the roar of an enormous, armored orc. The Orc plowed through the soldiers wielding a savage axe and laughing maniacally.
Some of the soldiers turned to face the new threat, giving Merin enough breathing room to regain his footing.
And then, suddenly, friendly arrows began filling the sky, striking down soldiers. Gaius and another elven looking man were suddenly at Merin’s soldier, both of them wielding their blades with considerable skill. The stranger introduced himself as Aielwin. Merin nodded and tried to smile his thanks, but didn’t know if he could see it beneath his helmet.
Merin’s heart rose. He was prepared to die here, but he certainly didn’t want to. Maybe there was a chance, now. He’d half expected to be the only one that was willing to fight the soldiers, but was overjoyed that he wasn’t.
Rising with the waking sun, As the morning calls my name, I feel it invite me, To be free from care and pain, For the future days of winter chill, Are too far away to harm me, The springtime and the morning, warmth and laughter dawning

They fought on for a time, and despite the situation, Merin was elated by fact that he stood together with a human, an orc, an elf. The races united together. Maybe he wasn’t just an idealist.
But the fire began to spread in earnest, and the soldiers seemed to have no end to them. Eventually Gaius called out from amidst the fighting;
“We need to retreat!”

He and the archer, revealed to the elven woman he’d seen dancing with the other orcish man before, nimbly began to extricate themselves from the soldiers. Merin wanted to do the same, but one of the disadvantages of wearing armor was… that he wasn’t nimble. There was no way he could simply run from the soldiers. They’d catch him in a trice. While he might be able to outrun one in a foot race, there was no way he could dodge all these soldiers crowding the square, standing in between him and the Town Hall. And cutting his way through would be too slow. They’d overwhelm him that way, too.
Merin glanced over to the large orcish man, one of the few that seemed to be staying. He looked like he might have a similar problem to Merin, as he was also wearing heavy armor.

Merin glanced about himself, curling into a tighter, defensive ball, before he saw a way out. A stupid way out. One that might kill them just as dead as running through soldiers, but perhaps it would work.
The houses were on fire, burning. That meant no soldiers. His armor was fireproof, but he’d have to move fast anyway, as he wasn’t fire proof and didn’t want to be roasted alive in his own armor. The smoke would be a problem, too, but he was low to the ground, and his beard provided a natural filter. It wouldn’t affect him as much as it might affect others.
“Here!” He said, stopping his song. He caught the big orcs eye, and looked around for Aielwen. “Through the buildings! We can retreat through there!”

“Zuruk-vaishen!” The brutish orc snaps an order at his war hound, demanding the dog to escape with the others. At first the war hound was unresponsive, determined to fight by her owner’s side, however a firm “Jetzt” from the orc was enough to spur it to leave.Good thing too, braving fire with fur could make the situation more disastrous than it already was.
With a sickening crack, the head of the orc’s battleaxe breaks off on a soldier’s shield, but fortunately he was able to follow the blow with a heavy kick that punted the soldier through the air. He seizes the opportunity to follow after Merin.

Merin charged towards one of the burning buildings in the direction of the Town hall with the orc in close pursuit. It’s door was open, and smoke poured out of it, but it wasn’t completely ablaze yet.

Mentions: FireMaiden FireMaiden KennethPhoenix18 KennethPhoenix18
 

Ophelia Barrows & Gaius de Leon
Location
: Halamead
Interaction:
N/A
Mentioned: KennethPhoenix18 KennethPhoenix18 (Aielwin) Orikanyo Orikanyo (Magnus) Fred Colon Fred Colon (Merin) Hexblood Bandit Hexblood Bandit (Vrogak)
The small number of fighters they had scattered, spread between the flames and soldiers, Gaius and Ophelia picked the path of least resistance. Waiting for the walk to join them, they as well as a few straggling citizens took off down the main street. As the buildings around them burned, they could hear the battle cries and terrified screams among the crackling wood. Her lungs were burning, struggling to clear the ash she had inhaled while on the roof. Stupidly, Ophelia had taken way too long before coming down, providing overwatch for the men on the ground. Something Gaius normally would have berated her for if the situation allowed it. Instead, they moved quickly, Gaius watching the front while Ophelia watched their sides and Fen'dral watched their backs. The three made a great team in times like this.

The civilians were flocking to the town hall, a large, old and sturdy stone building. It made sense they would want to seek refuge there, the flames could beat at those walls all day and not make more then dark scorch marks. But they knew, sooner or later the soldiers would turn their sights from the town itself to the people-A metallic thunk caught Ophelia's attention as Gaius stumbled back a little, pulling an arrow form the metal plate on his shoulder. "ARCHER!" He called out in warning as Ophelia began to scan the area, watching for a bow or signature color but the culprit must have moved on.

"Head down," She spoke, Gaius just nodding as they stooped down to continue working forward the town hall. And it was a good thing they did, just as they rounded a corner a large halberd swung just over their heads, a crack resonating through the air as a wooden shutter broke under the blade. By the ramming his shoulder forward, metal collected with a face, pushing the perpetrator back as Ophelia took advance of the opening to sprint for the low fence of the town hall. The citizens who could we're fighting just to keep the doors open long enough so everyone could get inside, but that wouldn't last long. "We need to help defend the door!" Ophelia spoke, finding Gaius who's brows furrowed. If they got inside, it wouldn't matter. What was the point? Even so...Gaius nodded.

"You find that archer." He commanded. "We don't have long."
 
Aielwin Caiharice

The fire raged and the battle with it, Aielwin didn't even notice a tall fellow in armor beside the two of them. Was he there the whole time, did he not see him before. Regardless he was with them in this fight. Seeing that elven girl was fighting too, loosing arrows like only an elf could. But even with all these combatants it was still a tough fight the fire, smoke and ash only compounding it. With a blink the tall fellow left with the elf girl towards the town hall, it seems that the townfolks were all heading the direction. The dwarven man made the call for retreat, Aielwin agreed but towards their path was towards the townfolks and the hall they took refuge in.

That was Aielwin had a thought, kill two birds with one stone, albeit a foolish stone. At the moment Aielwin was quick and light with his enchantment on, and he realize the inn he was staying was nearby and in the opposite direction as everyone else. Using himself as a distract was a good idea, but trying to recover his equipment wasn't. Doing both may end in a net neutral outlook. Too much think, just act...

"Go on held, I'll draw their attention and meet back with you!" He yelled, as he swept up and rock and chucked it at distant soldier. Aielwin then ran, pushing and using the flat off his blade to smack men. He specify hit many of their bums, as shame tended to be a good motivator. He had about six to seven men now chasing him, and maybe an archer. He did see an arrow pass him.

Aielwin turned a corner and found the inn, thankfully it was on fire as of yet but he was guessing the soldier perusing him would make quick work of that. Running inside and went up stairs and kicked open the door to his room. His bag and equipment laid out on the floor, scooping it up Aielwin threw in all into the chest the room provide. It wasn't ideal but it would work especially for what he had in mind. Locking it closed he grabbed the handle on the side extending enchantment to it making it lighter. It was definitely straining his skills to enchant it in this way. But he was losing time and could hear the men outside and smell the torches.

Dropping the sword, it was going to be too much of a hassle now he jumped through the window. The chest leading the jump, glass raining on those under equip. Only about four men were there, but Aielwin turned back to action. Pointing the chest straight above a man, he dropped the spell letting the full weight fall and crush the man's head. Reupping the spell, but only to himself Aielwin swung the large chest into another man's head taking him out. Standing up straight, he bellowed at the two remaining men. "RUN!" In which they did almost falling over themselves.

Grunting from the strain, Aielwin hefted the chest over his shoulders and ran to town hall hoping the others were able to hold them back.
 
As an old orc who had vicariously experienced numerous horrifying and bloody battles with the Blackthorn Company, Vrogak, like most veterans, had acquired a calm mentality while standing in the storm, or in this case, a blazing inferno.

Vrogak took a deep breath before entering the burning building.

The burning sensation was akin to having thousands of tiny needles poking his body, harshly sewing his armor to his skin as the pokes accumulate by the second. Vrogak wore padding underneath the metal plates, however the flames were just that hot in a mostly enclosed space, the armored pair needed a way out fast. In an instant, he raced past Merin, for although his ally had fireproof armor, that did not mean the dwarf was their best bet for getting them out of the building. Stairs leading to the upper floors were inaccessible, due to the roof collapsing in partially there. In the next room soldiers seemed to have the foresight to barricade the other door with miscellaneous furniture now set ablaze. Smoke affected their breathing, causing the Vrogak to go through a spell of hacking coughs. The former mercenary was good in short and decisive battles, for his endurance was shot, and the smoke only exacerbated the problem for him. He waved away the dwarf, and pointed to a wall on the other side of the room. As soon as the spell ended over him, Vrogak charged the wall with Merin, and smashed through it by pure brawn.

THWACK! Vrogak landed flatly against the cobblestone street, then rolled his aging body to disperse the momentum from their charge. Against his body, he felt the flames had licked his skin, giving him moderate burns in several locations. The burnt orc briefly considered staying there in the light of the building, but Roach would be lonely. He got up unsteadily to his feet, wiped some drool from his mouth, and looked towards his dwarf companion.
 
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