Fantasy Setting Summer Dawn

[Yatasal]

"Hmm, I don't like that. I can't protect you if you go up there." He said gently. Then he called up: "Come down first. Let us see you, so we know you are a friend. The stampede was provoked. High elves from the summerlands are trying to take Delan's great crystal. It will be death and destruction for the wood elves if they succeed. There are several tribes of orcs helping them, the blighted traitors."

Quinn frowned as her mind sifted through this new information. A good scout learned things from conversations, memorizing anything and everything with the ability to regurgitate it later for superiors. A great scout not only learned these things, but also could extrapolate information from a few words. The best scouts knew what information to not reveal to their superiors. Beasts weren't common in the forest, apparently. Not only that, but there were Sumenans trying to take Delan's crystal... And for whatever reason, the crystal prevented death and destruction, and its removal would mean doom. She knew already that Lassard had made a deal with the orcs, hence the reason for the one orc who had met her beforehand. Whose name she couldn't remember, but somehow she doubted she'd meet him again.

But why was Lassard--no, Evereach--after a Cyndaran crystal? It must've been huge and valuable. At least, it had religious significance. It could have magical power as well, but Quinn doubted that such a powerful magical object could exist. Then again, such a powerful object would definitely be in Evereach's desires. And if so, her desires. So, Lassard was after a crystal, and had gained Orc allies to do it. Interesting, but that was definitely going to backfire on him if the crystal was in any way a religious object. Powerful, yes, but if it had an emotional significance than of course the Cyndarans--even the Orcs he had turned--would want it back.

Quinn glanced down at her arm. It was mostly healed, with several long scars running up and down her arm. Her sleeve was torn apart of course. She couldn't turn her wrist though, not without pain. And opening and closing her hand took an absurd amount of time and patience. Quinn blinked back tears as she held her arm close to her side. One creature. One blasted creature was all it took for her to lose the use of an arm. Barely five minutes. That... woman... in the tree better have some miraculous magic that'll fix this. Or else she'd have to wait till Lassard dismissed her and she could go home and fix this, and who knew how long that would be?

It seemed to happen in slow motion: the branches lowering themselves slowly to earth, falling faster and faster as gravity reached for them. Then the ground-shaking crash that reverberated throughout the entire area as the tree connected with the ground. A burning house not far off toppled from its foundations, littering the base of another tree with flaming debris. Now it was a race to get to the crystal, preventing the other side from stealing it away, and on top of this, the forest was very near to becoming an out-of-control inferno.

As the ground suddenly shook, Quinn spread her legs and bent her knees. She was able to stay on her feet, but a deep sense of dread filled her. She couldn't tell if it was her own feeling or something that had spread through the group, but she knew that something was seriously wrong.

Something jumped down from the trees. And Quinn wasn't sure what she was looking at, but it definitely wasn't anything from the Summerlands. It looked female, and had humanoid characteristics, not to mention intelligence, but other than that Quinn found herself holding back a look of mixed fear and disgust. And she wasn't doing a very good job.

"My name is Trileon," Said the halfbeast, adjusting the bow strapped to her back, her bone trinkets rattling, "I.. apologize. I didn't realize how dire the situation was."

Quinn smelled smoke, and turned towards the source. She couldn't see the fire, but a fire in a forest was bad news no matter where you were. Lassard must've started his attack on Delan, although lighting the forest on fire seemed like a bad call. More likely a mistake. A costly one.

And that was the thing about being a scout. She wasn't a soldier. She wasn't the one who was in the battles, she was the one who slipped in and slipped out before the battle began. Before the war began. Besides, she hadn't ever been a military scout. She had always dealt with political intrigue, passing messages and information between the houses, all to Evereach's desires and needs. This? This was an entirely different beast that Quinn so did not sign up for. She couldn't run, though. She had no idea what direction the Summerlands were in, and it was a week's journey on foot to get there. The fire or beasts would kill her long before she got to safety. That meant only one other option; stay and fight.

She couldn't fight, not with one arm. She needed her other hand back. And for that, she needed this Trileon's help. Except she needed it to be snappy, because a forest on fire didn't usually stay contained for very long. She had to take the chance that Trileon's magic could do the trick. If not, she'd have to figure out how to fight with only one working arm. In the middle of a battle. Not a great plan. Quinn took a breath, and focused on the creature's eyes. "Trileon, I can fight, but I need my hand to work. Can you make it work? Please?"

 

[Mythee]

Unbelievably, Song's trick worked; the feathery beast had changed course and was now rushing at full speed toward the orcs surrounding the tree, subjecting its riders to condiderable jerking forces with every leap. "Yeeees, yes. Good job. I'm very thankful. You've earned your high horse of the apocalypse," Falsedge commented with dark humor from atop this 'Sir Aubade', "-but your naming sense still bugs the shit out of me." She took note of Desrick's position- it seemed that snake kid from earlier and Lohrithe would soon be joining them as well. "Anyway, duty calls. Try not to fall off."
Fals gave Song one last glance as she said it. The light fae glowed with daring and excitement, appearing as a muse on the battlefield.

The turtlion crashed through the line of orcs, and the war djinn released her grasp on the handful of its manefeathers she'd been holding on to and kicked off of its side. She landed with a heavy metallic thump among the scattered invasion forces, twin khopesh unsheathed, and immediately hacked at the legs of a grounded orc with the surgical precision of one with a long practice of crippling one's opponents. He might never be able to walk again.
-"AAAAAGH-! COWARD-! YOU-!" His pained yelling drew the attention of others who were getting back to their feet and began rushing at her too quickly, and from too many directions, for comfort. "Aw, noo! Don't be in such a hurry, you bastard bunch of olives." She loudly whined through her mask, kicking the downed orc's weapon away from him, since he had been scrambling to reach for it. "It's called efficiency. Be glad for your life." She spat the words out, taking up stance and seemingly waiting for the other orcs to meet her in battle.
A thunderous crack got everyone's attention.
The tree fell.
"...Fuck."

Nearby, Valac had joined the fray, come to assist Desrick. There was too much uncertainty in his motions... after all, it was his first time in actual combat against... actual warriors. Thankfully his opponents had clearly not faced nagakin before, so they, too, were not sure what to expect. Valac reared back and struck forth repeatedly with alarming speed, his reach and angles of attack granting him decent advantages despite his inexperience. With the weight of his snake body, his attacks carried considerable force. It really was a snakelike technique. Yet, despite the length of time he'd spent fighting, real harm had yet to befall any of his opponents. It was taking all he had to repel their attacks, let alone that he didn't have any of the aggression, any of the bloodthirst that was benefiting Lohrithe's combat ability.
When the tree fell, he felt it through every shiny scale on his body. He stared in abject horror.

The orcs had less of that hesitation, and were already back on the attack.
Fals timed her run, breaking into a short dash and leaping over the half-snake, half-boy, with three on her tail. "Tag." She spoke.
-"Huh-wha?" Valac glanced to the side; noticing the three orcs running toward his tightly coiled hindquarters, he nearly panicked. The serpent tail shot across the ground like a whip, undulating in one powerful snap, and knocked them all clean off their feet in a blow equivalent to many times an orc's weight class. For the second time in the past few minutes, they flew through the air, some of them losing grip on their weapons.
"Impressive! How many of those you got in you?" Fals commented, now effectively regrouped with the others and overhearing their battle cries.
"Can't talk! Trying not to die!" Was all she heard back from the fencing boy.
Fighting was scary, she could relate. It was good to keep that fear, to sharpen one's senses and never to underestimate one's opponent. But the naga was so green that she had to wonder if this was his first battle.

 

[Flutterby]

Desrick seemed to have no hesitation in charging after the massive beast, and then dismounted the running boar without a second thought. The dwarf took one look downward, at the towering orcs with their massive weapons, and the few remaining Evereach elves with their stilt-like legs. And she promptly decided that she actually like riding the boar. It was, at the very least, the most attractive alternative to fighting a horde of enemies that were almost 2 full feet taller than her, and exponentially stronger.

After several very uncomfortable bumps, she managed to get herself into the vacant saddle and grab a hold of the reins. The boar had veered off, away from the main battle, and was charging blindly through the fire-lined streets. It took all of her might to bring it to a halt and turn it back. The dwarf straightened herself, pulling her spine as tall as it would go, pulling her longer sword as she prepared to hit the wall of enemies once again.

Suddenly there was a strange lull- even the beast she was riding seemed to hesitate. The tree cracked, froze midair, and then careened down to the earth. Its force shook the ground for miles, and Ora knew all of Cyndara would feel it.
"The crystal," She whispered, and egged the boar into a full gallop. Or what served as a gallop, since it wasn't a very graceful gate.
The boar responded better this time- it seemed to actually feel her presence now- and within a few moments they were bashing their way through the outer line of enemies.
As she swooped down to parry a swing from an orc, Ora saw the others again, several meters away and fighting hard. She gave a merciless, sloppy hack at the orc and kicked the boars sides, sending it squealing toward, and then straight past her friends.
At least she was headed in the proper direction now.

 

[SilverFlight]

The earth reverberated with the ear-splitting crash Pyrrhus' gaze darted back own the cliff side to Delan, where he saw the crystal's tree fall.
"Oh no..."
Half of him wanted to run down the hill with swords drawn, defending Cyndara from the elves that had captured him, but the scout that had found them was in no condition to accompany him. Not yet.
He moved to the cliff's edge to get a better look at what was going on.
"This looks very bad...The elves have moved to the periphery of the village...the orcs are still fighting. Wait, I see the captain, what was his name...Lizard? I think...is he calling a retreat?"
Zazz mothspit Yatasal Zazz

Lassard was not among the flaming wreckage of Delan. He had his men get clear of the flames. The crystal may have been worth his life to the commanders, but it wasn't worth that to him. Still, he watched the square below and saw the orcs struggling to get the gem free.
"Your orders sir?" Once of his soldiers asked.
"Hold position. The beasts have given up. The fire will take the town. All we need to do is see if the orcs will get us that crystal."

"Get that crystal loose!" Uxul bellowed. His orcs were working fast, but they'd been cut off from Lassard's forces. Not that those lily-livered elves had been good for anything but scaring farmers. The branches holding the crystal were green and supple, and clutched at the gem as if the tree were still trying to keep its prize.
They made splinters of them soon however and two burly orcs hefted the crystal between them. No sooner than they had done this, a boar plowed straight through their ranks, forcing the carriers to drop their precious cargo. With an angry roar the orcs drew the blades at their hips and rounded on the creature, one trying to grab its reins.
Flutterby

Desrick fought by Lohr, steadily gaining ground to the crystal. He was afraid for a moment that they would not get there in time as he saw two orcs lift it. Ora however saved them again as she sent the beast stampeding into their enemies. he gave a loud cheer and rushed forward in her wake. Now the orcs had two opponents to defeat if they wanted to get away with the crystal.
The fires however were closing in and it wouldn't be long before they were all trapped by the pillars of fire closing in now from all sides. The branches overhead had also caught and were raining fiery debris down upon their heads. The beasts who had made their way into the village balked at the fire, their rage replaced by fear. They broke lines and scattered, looking for any way out of the fire.
Razah, who had been fighting at their side yelped as a flaming branch scorched her shoulder. "The fires are out of control! We need to do something!"

Uxul was there as well, and he pointed at Desrick.
"You! How are you free?"
Suddenly a loud cry rose up above the roar of fire. A war cry...from behind them! orcs charged out of the brush at the edge of the village, but they were not of the same clans as those trying to take the crystal and Crispin was at their head, bellowing with the best of them. They charged the peripheral ranks, breaking down the defenses Uxul had extablished about the crystal.
Uxul scowled, his brow creased in thought and it wasn't long before he realized: "You turned my men!" He yelled at them. The storm of his rage surprised Desrick, and with his injury not fully healed he buckled under the first blow, only narrowly managing to deflect Uxul's blade away from his chest. He kicked out fiercely and Desrick stumbled.
"You're a traitor to your race, and you'll die like one...on your knees!"

Zazz Flutterby Mythee Nevina Yatasal mothspit

 

[mothspit]

"Trileon, I can fight, but I need my hand to work. Can you make it work? Please?"

Trileon's black eyes met that of the wounded elf, only to be met with a.. less-than-welcoming expression. She was no stranger to those being surprised by her appearance-- The combination of human and beastman was a rare sight, even in Cyndara. Still, she couldn't help but look defeated in response. She meant no harm, even offered to help heal the elf; But disdain for the unknown was something Trileon would just have to get used to.

She blinked once, processing the girl's request, "The magic of my people isn't like that of the Centaur's. I'm afraid the most I can do for you is something a bit more.. natural."

She delicately held the girl's arm by her fingertips, "The scars are deep. It will take some time to heal, perhaps a few months.." She muses thoughtfully, her lips curled into a curious expression. She carefully turns the limb over, eyes scanning every possible angle without causing pain. From the small leather pouch on her hip, Trileon produces a clay pot filled with a neon-purple substance-- Some kind of salve, by the looks of it. Using two fingers she scoops out a dollop, about the size of her thumb, and begins to carefully paint the substance into the creases of the scars. It's cold to the touch, with a scent that is incredibly floral and pungent.

"This will help with the pain. You will be able to move your hand freely, but it will only last a handful of hours," She explains. With her other hand, she pulls out a small roll of gauze. It looks like.. it's made from thick layers of spiderweb. Trileon slowly begins to wrap Quinn's arm. Once finished, she turns her head to look up at the home nestled in the trees, "I could provide further medicine that would be more effective, but.." She looks back to them all, her lips pursed and brow furrowed, "..I don't think we have much time for that."

The earth reverberated with the ear-splitting crash Pyrrhus' gaze darted back own the cliff side to Delan, where he saw the crystal's tree fall.
"Oh no..."
Half of him wanted to run down the hill with swords drawn, defending Cyndara from the elves that had captured him, but the scout that had found them was in no condition to accompany him. Not yet.
He moved to the cliff's edge to get a better look at what was going on.
"This looks very bad...The elves have moved to the periphery of the village...the orcs are still fighting. Wait, I see the captain, what was his name...Lizard? I think...is he calling a retreat?"

It looked like her suspicions were correct. Matching Pyrrhus' concern, Trileon quickly rushed to his side at the cliff's edge. Seeing all that destruction.. It burned her to watch.

"We have to go," She says quickly, "The elves will not stop with the crystal-- With it, they will surely advance further inward and burn the forest to cinders. We must go down there!"

If the way the scout had looked at both the Naga and herself were any indication of the overall disposition towards Cyndarans, there was no telling what they would do with the crystals power, and that sentiment became abundantly stricken across the halfbeasts face-- desperation, urgency, and perhaps fear.
SilverFlight Yatasal

 

[Nevina]

"Clearly my naming sense is much more refined than your sense of sight if you think this is some mere high horse. Sir Aubade is an exalted, noble legend, I'll have you know!" Song called out as she watched from the corner of her eye at Falsedge vaulting off. Turning her attention back forward, Song abruptly realized that the burning wood around them was throwing their stampede into further disarray; the lion-turtle's pupils narrowed against the garish light of the flames, hackles raising as survival instinct conflicted with hunting.

It's legs coiled back. "Wait, no, don't you dare--" And with one great leap, the feathers between her fingers slipped, and she found herself airborne as the creature leaped over the flames, disappearing somewhere into the ruins of the town. Song landed in an ungraceful heap, more thankful that she had fallen between piles of broken wood and cloth (and thus no witnesses) than she was that the only injury was a smarting rear. Dusting herself off with an indignant huff, and perhaps a little wince, the noble fae took stock of her surroundings: The tree had fallen, the battle continued, the fires still raged on. What good was one with no battle experience in such a setting as this? She could organize parties and festivals, not slit throats and drape the lands in red.

Another cry rose, and Song witnessed a new wave crashing through, breaking the defenses around the crystal. Gold eyes watched sharply, then flicked back to the flames. The noble fae made the quick decision to leave the important battle for the light to those with blades; her tasks lay elsewhere, with the people.

Hood pulled low, the glowing fae turned on her heel and broke into a run. Wielding an axe was out of her repertoir, but cardio was at least something she had used plenty of before. She flew across the ruins of the first town to have welcomed her since her flight, heart aching at the sight.

Perhaps it was due to the fresh reinforcements to occupy the attackers, or that there was no weapon in her hands, the fire scaring creatures, or perhaps because she was running towards the temple; for whatever reason, she seemed to be ignored as a target. Soot smudged across her face, she found herself gasping for breath in front of the temple. The priestess was there once more, ready to welcome her into the safety of their labyrinth. "Please!" Song puffed, taking a deep breath and forcing her breath under regulation, "You must ask those you host to leave the sanctuary to aid in dowsing the flames."

As much as she would have loved to give a rousing speech to the populace and be in the spotlight, Song was well aware of her position in these lands: An outsider from the same lands as those attacking. If she wanted to help save this town, she needed someone else to deliver the news, and who better to than a priestess of Cyndara? "I understand it is dangerous to leave now, but fire knows no enemy and seeks only it's next place of rest. I know what it is like to lose everything, and it will be that much harder to rebuild if there is not even a wood to draw from or animal to hunt. The light of the flame is greedy and will consume all if we let it. Those fighting are already occupied, but even the flames poses a risk to both sides, so they ought to let us through to quench them. You must convince the people to try!" Her tone urgent, she took a breath and continued, "We can set up lines to pass water, have others clear out areas so the flame has nothing left to reach. We can stop it's progression if we act now and not let it spread further."

SilverFlight (and anyone else who wants to join in the fire side XD)

 

[Yatasal]

"This looks very bad...The elves have moved to the periphery of the village...the orcs are still fighting. Wait, I see the captain, what was his name...Lizard? I think...is he calling a retreat?"

Quinn nearly screamed in frustration when Pyrrhus spotted her captain. Lassard had rightly moved his men out of the fire's path, and seemed to be waiting to see what would happen below before deciding what to do next. Of course, that was just a guess--he was on the other side of the village. The village full of fire, orcs, beasts, and Sun knows what else. Though Pyrrhus was wrong, Lassard wasn't in retreat. Simply waiting. But how was Quinn supposed to get to him? Not only that, what was she supposed to tell him when she got there? Hey Lassard my dude, guess freaking what? I got my arm severely injured and then healed by Cyndaran magic, and I just spent time among this little ragtag group that thinks their Cyndara's freaking independence movement. Also, can I go home? You don't need me. I'm a scout, not a freaking soldier. Why did you even send for me.
Yeah, that would go over well. No information meant no job.

"This will help with the pain. You will be able to move your hand freely, but it will only last a handful of hours," She explains. With her other hand, she pulls out a small roll of gauze. It looks like.. it's made from thick layers of spiderweb. Trileon slowly begins to wrap Quinn's arm. Once finished, she turns her head to look up at the home nestled in the trees, "I could provide further medicine that would be more effective, but.." She looks back to them all, her lips pursed and brow furrowed, "...I don't think we have much time for that."

Quinn watched the strange blue woman examine Quinn's arm, gently turning it over. It was strange, and even though her first reaction would be to rip her arm back--a movement that would have probably injured her further--she saw a measure of kindness in Trileon's gentle examination. And her diagnosis was equally kind, giving Quinn some hope that she wouldn't lose the use of her hand. Quinn met Trileon's eyes, and nodded. She didn't know what words could possibly convey her gratitude, and a odd sense of duty bloomed in her. "I owe you, Trileon. You too, Pyrrhus." She whispered, meaning every word. Which could be problematic in the future, seeing as they were on two different sides of the battle. But Quinn felt that they had saved her life, and that meant that there was a debt to be repaid. She turned her hand over, clenching her hand into a fist and releasing her fingers. It felt normal, as if nothing had happened to it. The web-like bandages braced her wrist, but they didn't limit movement as much as Quinn thought they would. It would do, for now.

"We have to go," She says quickly, "The elves will not stop with the crystal-- With it, they will surely advance further inward and burn the forest to cinders. We must go down there!"

With Trileon's words, Quinn scanned the area. They were standing on a cliff, and it was a slight drop to the village ground below. The smoke rose and fire too, enshrouding the whole area and making visibility next to nothing. What Quinn could see was treehouses, some having yet to be burned. She reached for her side, and found her hook and rope. It would take a lot of effort to get through the trees to Lassard, and she wasn't entirely certain she wanted to join up with him yet. She wanted to gather some game-changing information that would warrant what she had been through first.
Which left the goal of getting the crystal. It seemed to be the object of this whole venture, and Quinn's thoughts were that the orcs below--called traitors by the group she was with--weren't going to be able to keep ahold of the crystal for long. No, her money was on the creatures and people of the forest who relied on the crystal for whatever religious or magical power it held. If they believed it was what kept them alive, the orcs and Lassard would have to kill all of them before they'd part with it. But if they had an inside man who could help set up an ambush to later steal the crystal... well, that would involve far less mess than Lassard's current efforts to get the crystal.
She looked to Pyrrhus and Trileon. "What would we do once we got down there? Is there some way to put out that terrible fire?"

 

[Zazz]

Lohr glanced back, away from Uxul, to see Crispin at the head of the resistance. It was almost comical. The drow grinned, his sharp canines showing as he returned his gaze to Uxul and his mouth curled into a snarl. "Have you not learned your lesson? Fool," he bellowed, swinging his large sword towards the orc. Mid-swing, he tilted the blade and hacked down at an uncovered part of Uxul's uncovered leg, leaving a diagonal gash to the bone. Lohrithe deftly sprung back out of the reach of the traitorous orc. "You will never be a hero, Uxul. Orc children of the true Cyndara will take your name as a curse!" Lohrithe lifted his sword, readying for a battle, protecting his friend. "That, or you will be nameless for all of life! You are a disgrace to your people, a disgrace to your clan! Your brethren would be better off with your flesh roasting in your own fire."

 

[mothspit]

I owe you, Trileon. You too, Pyrrhus."

Trileon holds her hand up with a shake of her head, "There's no need. This is my duty."

"What would we do once we got down there? Is there some way to put out that terrible fire?"

Having a quick glance around the area, Trileon racked her brain for some way to put out the fire. Water.. they needed water. But.. where? Even if they managed to find a river nearby, how long would it take for them to redirect the current? Too long, no doubt. By that time the fire will have grown, surely taking more of the forest with it. No, something more practical would have to do. Maybe.. a really big tarp to bat out the fire? Bah.

Then.. she had a thought. A potentially really useful thought. Her entire face lit up with realization, and without hesitation she ran over to one of the many trees near the cliffs edge. She scaled it with ease, walking along one of it's branches hanging over the edge. She was trying to get a better vantage point. It seems as though she found what she was looking for. With an excited 'Ha!' Trileon drags her finger around the perimeter of the village-- More specifically the large trees scattered about the are.

"The trees! There's water stored in their trunks! If we can split them open, the water can put out the fire!"

With the fire out, plus the confusion the water will most assuredly, albeit temporarily cause, they could retrieve the crystal.

Trileon hopped down from the tree with a beaming smile, "If we're careful, we could potentially sneak past the chaos undetected."

 

[Flutterby]

The dwarf thought she had control of her mount, with the way it lunged forward through the orc ranks toward her companions. Until it careened past them. It became glaringly apparent that the boar was just as panicked by the growing fire as the rest of the beasts. And she had a feeling she was simply not bulky enough for it to realize she was supposed to be in control.
The animal's frantic charge took her straight into the clutches of the orcs- literally, they dropped the crystal and came after her instead. The boar balked long enough for one of them to get a hold on its reins, which seemed like a good time to relinquish her free ride.

Ora made a quick move to roll off the boar's back, dropping the reins and shifting her weight suddenly.. only to stay right where she was. The small woman looked down frantically, at the point of pressure on her foot, and found her boot stuck in some leather bits on the boar's saddle.
Instead of the athletic, war-like dismount she had planned for herself, Ora gave a loud yelp as an orc grabbed the back of her neck, not sparing her hair at all, and yanked her down roughly. Her tail grasped at the boar's saddle for a split second, and then relented quickly as the pressure got too much.
"That. Doesn't belong to you." The orc growled, holding her a few feet off the ground to get a good look at her. She dangled limply, like a kitten being pulled on the scruff. He took in her face first, and then her unfamiliar clothes, the sword in her hand, and scowled in confusion.
The other orc, the one holding the fighting boar, looked over and shouted, "What-Is that some kind of ugly fairy?"
The orc holding her seemed to consider this, but he didn't get to think of an answer. The flash of rage surged from her mind to her arm before she could control it; an arm that didn't feel like her own shoved her sword into the chest of the orc. He collapsed rather quickly, with a cry, dropping her into a heap.

The board squealed, and renewed its efforts to run. The other orc, who had wanted it to carry the crystal instead of him, finally had to let it go to make a rush at Ora. The dwarf scrambled up. A flaming branch fell between them, the orc kicked it aside. Ora drew her other sword, and ignored the cries behind her as the orc raised his blade for a first strike.

 

[Mythee]

"Allies! Thank goodness!" Valac's fear for his life did not ebb, but he did express some relief at the arrival of the turned troops. If he survived, he'd owe it all to that Summenan, Oralia.
The angered, shouted dialogue between Uxul and Lohrithe was hard to miss, distracting him. "Uh oh..." Taking advantage of the momentary confusion over the emerging troops that had given pause to the orcs he was fighting, the naga broke away from them at a quick slither and was horrified to see Desrick on the ground again and Lohrithe in a rage. It was like a repeat of what he'd seen before.
"Oh stars-! No!"
Without even thinking about it, he sprung toward the spiked-armor clad chieftain, brazenly mid-fight with the drow, to coil tightly and restrain him... piercing objects pressing through his scales, digging into his flesh and all.
"Ow! Ow! Oh goddess why it hurts!" He cried out, hands slapping onto the ground to support him as he was unable to keep his humanoid body upright with all of this pain. He cursed his naive actions.

--

"What the...?" Falsedge didn't have time to take in the arrival of friendly orc forces to this mess of a city-turned-battlefield. An enemy charged at Falsedge with a mace- heavy weapon, and a shield on the other arm. To parry would require both her weapons, creating an opening that invites her to an unprotected attack. So she chose not to parry. Their weapon swung in a wide diagonal, barely striking her back-plate as she dashed forward, leaning low- as it scraped loudly across her a spike snapped a strap of the harness for her sheathes, the leather now dangling on one side as she stepped into a half-spin under the orc's raised limb, first tearing his flesh from below the collarbone and then right through his armpit, then cutting that thick flesh deeper with a second hack as she emerged from her spin behind him. His entire arm fell limp, the hilt of his weapon sliding out of a loosened grip as he roared in pain and rage, limb dangling awkwardly by the still-attached shoulder tissue.
Without being given the time to make disarmament puns over her handiwork, Fals had to duck and roll to the side as one of the orc's comrades stepped into the fight with a spiked ball-and-chain flailing. He had less of a heavy build than mace-and-shield, and though still considerable, Fals had a way of dealing with this style of weapon.
"Come on, then." She taunted with a beckoning motion and he swung again- it was a joke, really. Stepping away hard to one side, she hooked the chain with the ends of both her khopesh, and it swung back in the attacker's direction- smashing into his face instead. He staggered back and fell to one knee, clutching his face.
Talk about a bad weapon match-up.

That's when the first orc, who had miraculously recovered enough of his senses to get back on the ball, came crashing into her with a shield tackle. It knocked her down with enough force to crack a rib, breastplate or not. "Fucking moron-!-" in true war djinn fashion, she didn't miss a beat regardless of pain. Even as he attempted to crush her, the one hand she still had free, still clutching the hilt of her exotic sword, was all she needed to tear through the back of his neck as he had begun to grapple her. And to think he could have lived if he'd just called it quits for the day.
She ramped out from under his dead body, the spray of his blood drawing a stark contrast against the vibrant blue of her clothing. "Whew. Cough. Well."
Gleaming orange eyes honed in on her next opponent, and she continued to slice, fight and struggle her way through the orcs in proximity to the crystal, strategically picking her targets, her approach, and her short retreats to draw away more orcs. She aimed only to distract enough of them from their task to make getting away with it nigh impossible.

 

[SilverFlight]

The accolytes looked worried as some of them ran to the Sumennan that had come to the gates. They conversed hurriedly amongst themselves:
"This is one of the ones that Desrick vouched for." "She passed Cyndara's test. She can be trusted." "She's right, the fire is destroying everything, we have to do something!"
Out of the tall double doors an aged face appeared. The head priestess walked into their midst and they quieted instantly.
"The sumennan is right. We must act. These new orc tribes are on our side, look, they fight Uxul's warband."
The doors remained open and the priestess turned, lifting her arms to claim the intention of all who watched from inside.
"People of Delan! The tide of battle is turning! But our home is not safe. The fires are spreading, soon they will consume every living thing near our home. We must stop this! Use the aqueducts, and the water stored high in the trees. Free it and save our village!"
There was a cry that rose up from within the temple and suddenly the steps were alive with people. They surged past Song and ran for the town, facing the flames with a terrified vigour.
The priestess turned to Song with gratitude on her weathered face. "We will not stand idle either. Cyndabrynde is angry at what has happened. If we call on her, she will help. Now go, see how you can help your friends."
Nevina

Pyrrhus reflected Trileon's energy and danced in place.
"You're right! Not only that but there is an aqueduct system that conveys water all about the ground. If the troughs are redirected to key locations it could hinder the fire's spread. Three of us is very few though, I'm not sure how much we can do on our own, but I can get you all down into the village in an eye blink if that is what you wish."
A noise like the rush of water caught his pointed ears. he turned toward the temple and he broke out into a grin.
"Don't look now, but I think we're getting that help! Come on! With half the village redirecting water I think we have a fighting chance!"
Yatasal mothspit Zazz

Uxul roared in anger. "You insolent little dark elf whelp! I'll split your skull!"
He was so focused on Lohr however that he didn't see Valac until his coils had ensnared him. Uxul thrashed wildly, the spikes from his armour tearing into the boy's skin. He groped at the coils, but they were far too thick to gain a good purchase. He was well and truly ensnared and at Valac's mercy.
Mythee Zazz

Burgren had appeared now and his orcs swarmed the town, taking out any of Uxul's force that was left standing.
All Desrick could do was look on, his injury was still taking its toll and his stamina was all but spent. He smiled faintly as he watched the happenings around him. The crystal was safe. It was only then he noticed the orc bearing down on Ora. With a grunt he forced himself up and barreled forward. He couldn't coordinate a precise attack, instead he opted to bull-charge him, aiming to knock him off his feet and get him away from Ora.
Zazz Mythee Flutterby

Lassard made a noise of frustrated disgust. "Those useless brutes...obviously I didn't sway enough of them."
"Sir!" A scout dropped down from a nearby tree. "The second arm of the attack...it succeeded. Your second is bringing the crystal they took from further south. We have obtained one."
Lassard smiled. "Perfect, one is all Everreach wanted. Never put all your eggs in one basket my lads. Come, we don't need to be in this festering sinkhole any longer."
"What about the orcs?"
Lassard cast an indifferent look on the creatures fighting and dying for his cause. "They failed. We have more where those came from. Tell the other tribes to prepare to move, but tell them to be careful. We need to get them into Sumenna discretely."
Not long after the signal was given and Lassard and his high elves vanished into the thick forest, back towards Sumenna.
Zazz mothspit Flutterby Yatasal Mythee Nevina

 

[Flutterby]

Fighting against a being two feet taller and exponentially stronger than herself was something she had expected to be a challenge, but Ora wasn't even close to prepared to go hand-to-hand with an orc.
The orc swung his blade toward her head. She tried to parry as she would any other. The force of the the blow sent her sword sailing through the air and a shock of pain up through her wrist. She didn't have time to think that it might be broken, because the orc brought his blade toward her again. As she ducked, his back-handed swipe glanced off her shoulder, slicing across her shoulder blade and the edge of her arm.

Ora howled, but managed to use the momentum of her duck to drive forward, stabbing her sword into the thigh of the orc. Neither hand worked properly now- the blow was glancing at best, and her sword clattered to the ground as she stumbled a few more steps.
The orc spun on the unarmed dwarf, and took a step forward. Ora was about to shut her eyes tightly, to prepare for her end, when another orc plowed into her attacker. Ora kept her eyes on the scene as she retrieved her sword, tracking the enemy orc. The two orcs grappled, then her attacker pushed the other away, rolling him off into the dust. Before their foe could stand, she dove forward. For the second time that day, Ora ended an opponent with a blade through their chest, wincing some at the pain in her wrist, but mostly at the loss of life.

As she straightened and turned, Ora realized that the town was now flooded with different orcs and different elves. Crispin and Burgren's forces were ending the fight, and the citizens were battling the flames in earnest. They, and the crystal, were safe.
She had expected to see an unfamiliar face when she looked upon her savior, but instead found Desrick there. She stepped past the fallen orcs with a sickened frown. Ora chased the expression away quickly, but the knot in her stomach didn't vanish so easily.

"Desrick, thank the skies. One day, I'll repay you for that." The dwarf gave him a faint smile, some unidentified thing barely hidden behind it. She caught sight of Burgren, and was relieved to realized they still had much to do- the Sumennan scout, the crystal, the fate of the orcs.. Lassard and Uxul.
"I suppose there isn't a moment to rest, yet," She said briskly. Ora could feel the adrenaline beginning to fade, in the weakening of her legs, and added, "But at least we could both find a healer, yes?"
SilverFlight

 

[Zazz]

Azaria observed the rest quietly, wondering who this 'Lizard' was. Until it came to her. Lassard. Of course. This was his mess. The scout was here for him. The halfling peered out over Delan, squinting her sharp green eyes to see through the flames. Bodies clashed, weapons clanging, and a swarm of people came from one building that still stood. No, Lassard was not in the fray. He wouldn't be, unless there was a sure win. But he was near.

Then she saw them. The elves of Everreach in their ridiculous white. Just on the other side of the fire. ...Moving away? "They are leaving," said Azaria. "Lassard and his men are leaving." She glanced at the others, her feet itching to run after the high elf bastard, but she couldn't just leave Pyrrhus with the scout and the... funny-coloured bone witch. She let out a quiet huff and straightened. "The attackers will not stand. We should go now, if we are to help stop the fire." Azaria was also very curious about the woman Pyrrhus had allowed on his back.

 

[Zazz]

The drow's brow pulled together as the naga boy coiled around Uxul, but then he cringed as he saw Valac hold the ground in pain, tightening around the orc's spiky armor. Lohrithe would not want to be in that position, he decided. "Hold him tighter, boy! He cannot wiggle if he cannot move!" Lohrithe raised his wide sword once more, but hesitated; this was not his honour.

His white hair swished with a turn of his head. "BURGREN!" Lohrithe bellowed across the carnage. "This is your fight! Slay the coward!" He stayed only to make sure Valac made it out alive, that Uxul did not leave with his traitorous life intact.

 

[Yatasal]

"You're right! Not only that but there is an aqueduct system that conveys water all about the ground. If the troughs are redirected to key locations it could hinder the fire's spread. Three of us is very few though, I'm not sure how much we can do on our own, but I can get you all down into the village in an eye blink if that is what you wish."
A noise like the rush of water caught his pointed ears. he turned toward the temple and he broke out into a grin.
"Don't look now, but I think we're getting that help! Come on! With half the village redirecting water I think we have a fighting chance!"

Quinn tested her wrist by rotating it, and found that whatever Trileon had done would make it usable for the next little while. Hopefully long enough for her to do some good. She unhooked her climbing hook, and nodded to Pyrrhus. "I'm going to start splitting the trees. Start getting the fire out! Come on, Trileon!"

She ran past Trileon and snapped her wrist forward, sending the climbing hook into the tree Trileon had just climbed. She felt it latch onto the tree's bark, and jumped off the side of the hill. The momentum carried her in an arc to the side of the tree, where she landed. She then took one of her hunting knives, and searched the tree's bark for a weak point. It was a hunting knife; sharp, strong, but not exactly meant for cutting bark. Quinn walked along the trees surface, and then smiled as she found a crack in the tree's mighty trunk. It was already leaking water, too. With one hand on her rope, she hacked at the crack. It only took a minute of stabbing before water did the rest. It gushed out of the tree's wound, pouring to the flames below.

Quinn glanced below, and saw a large branch, out of the way of the waterfall she'd created. She dropped down, and snapped her fingers twice. The rope disappeared from her hand, and reappeared on her hip. She took it off, and spied another tree within hooking distance. She glanced upwards, scanning the tree for the strange blue woman. She doubted she'd find cracks on all the trees, so she needed help to try and get the trees to release their fire-dousing water. "Trileon! I got one, how do we get the rest?"

Unbeknownst to her, she was being left behind by her Captain... Though thoughts of Lassard and the crystal had all been replaced by thoughts of the current challenge of putting the fire out.

mothspit SilverFlight

 

[mothspit]

Quinn tested her wrist by rotating it, and found that whatever Trileon had done would make it usable for the next little while. Hopefully long enough for her to do some good. She unhooked her climbing hook, and nodded to Pyrrhus. "I'm going to start splitting the trees. Start getting the fire out! Come on, Trileon!"

She ran past Trileon and snapped her wrist forward, sending the climbing hook into the tree Trileon had just climbed. She felt it latch onto the tree's bark, and jumped off the side of the hill. The momentum carried her in an arc to the side of the tree, where she landed. She then took one of her hunting knives, and searched the tree's bark for a weak point. It was a hunting knife; sharp, strong, but not exactly meant for cutting bark. Quinn walked along the trees surface, and then smiled as she found a crack in the tree's mighty trunk. It was already leaking water, too. With one hand on her rope, she hacked at the crack. It only took a minute of stabbing before water did the rest. It gushed out of the tree's wound, pouring to the flames below.

Quinn glanced below, and saw a large branch, out of the way of the waterfall she'd created. She dropped down, and snapped her fingers twice. The rope disappeared from her hand, and reappeared on her hip. She took it off, and spied another tree within hooking distance. She glanced upwards, scanning the tree for the strange blue woman. She doubted she'd find cracks on all the trees, so she needed help to try and get the trees to release their fire-dousing water. "Trileon! I got one, how do we get the rest?"

Unbeknownst to her, she was being left behind by her Captain... Though thoughts of Lassard and the crystal had all been replaced by thoughts of the current challenge of putting the fire out.

Trileon followed the scout with ease; She didn't require a fancy hook and rope to scale the terrain. She quickly climbed the same tree once more, taking a similar route to Quinn's. She sat perched several branches above her, black eyes scanning the area for the closest tree to be torn apart. Trileon could easily use her forest magic to conjure up some dragon-like appendages and rip any of these trees to shred-- It was being detected by any of the 'traitors' she was more worried about. Though, it would be a risk she would have to take. When Quinn addressed her, she wasted no time taking a path among the treetops to the aforementioned trunk, swinging herself from branch-to-branch with expertly controlled momentum.

"Leave it to me!" She called back, clinging to the bark with her legs.

She raised her palms up to the sky, clapping them together once. With her eyes closed, she began mouthing a string of intangible sentences under her breath. When she opened her eyes again, they had taken on a more golden-hue, and as she separated her palms from one another, the blue flesh began to.. shift? It was was if her hands were shrouded in image-wavering mirages-- They were no longer relatively normal looking hands, but now mighty razor-sharp talons. Reeling both arms back, Trileon sunk them into the trunk of the tree as if it were made from sand. Followed by a series of grunts, she began tearing out pieces of wood until the first signs of water began to show. So she wouldn't get blasted away by the sudden burst of water, she climbed higher, offering one last punch before the life giving substance came flooding down to the fire.

Once finished, the mirages surrounding her hands vanished, returning them back to their blue and five-fingered state.

"A few more should do it!"

Yatasal SilverFlight

 

[Nevina]

Song was taken aback by the swift response of both the priestesses and the citizens. She had been expecting a response more in line with disbelief, apathy, denial.. Feeling touched at their response, Song followed one of the darting groups towards an aqueduct, emulating their movements. As the sense of hope flowed, so too did the slow redirection of water. The sense of fear and urgency was still there, but was pushed aside by the sense of purpose. Seeing the area she had been working in filled with a sort of linear system, Song detached herself from the group, in search of another area to aid.

The light fae nearly jumped back at the sudden appearance of water sloshing across the ground; gold eyes followed the upward flow, surprised to witness a figure gracefully jumping across the branches. A second figure made her nearly jump again; the transformed hands and the water suddenly freed from it's bindings. Well. That must simply be yet another weird Cyndaran thing. There was a lot of that here it seemed.

"Lovely work," Song called out, uselessly patting the sides of her soot-covered Cyndaran clothes, "This area looks rather promising. I think that way might need more--"

The noble paused as her eyes flicked across the scenery. Was that.. the troops retreating? She frowned. The Summenans wouldn't retreat without obtaining their goal, not when they had so much of the upper hand here. What did that mean?

"I suppose things just got easier for turning attention to the flames. Right then, shall we move onward..? Er, what names do you go by?"

Yatasal mothspit

 

[SilverFlight]

"You're right Azaria, the fire should be dealt with first. Delan can still be saved!"
In one fluid motion Pyrrhus was sliding down the sloped face, he jumped just before the bottom, clearing the small wood palisade and landing hard on the cobbled street. There was a mallet leaning against on of the houses and he snatched it up, swinging the long haft expertly as he galloped by. The wooden head collided with a support strut for the wooden troughs that made up a section of the aqueduct and the trough broke, spilling water out onto the street. Pyrrhus flew through the village, breaking struts and beams, flooding Delan in a great deluge. Water seeped through alleyways and thoroughfares, into houses and finally coursing back into the riverbed.
The water liberated from the trees by Quinn and Trileon cascaded down the trunks, stifling the fires gnawing at the ancient wood and flowing into the homes built about them. Steam rose and choked the canopy as one by one, the fires died.
Yatasal mothspit

Pyrrhus slid to a halt in the thickening mud, looking up to see his two new acquaintances still in the treetops. The mallet was slung casually over one of his broad shoulders and he had a cheery smile on his face. He noticed Song not far off and cocked an eyebrow.
"What's this? Looks like they left one of theirs behind!" His tone was more curious than critical and he looked down at Song with no small amount of interest. "But you don't look like a fighter...are you perhaps one of the lightlanders minded by that orc Desrick?"
Nevina

The priestesses watched their people go and then, they returned to the temple. They knelt on the abalone tiles and clasped their hands and prayed. The song that rose up was eerie and beautiful, beseeching their goddess to turn her head and grace them with her favour. A distance rumble of thunder sounded. The song continued, lilting, sad yet hopeful as slowly, the first fat drops of rain began to fall.

Desrick grinned up at Ora from his place in the dirt. "No need to repay me. Just stay alive."
He hefted himself up with difficulty, pain flaring in his side. He pressed a hand to it and it came away bloody. The healing was well-done, but the wound had been severe, and crashing around on the battlefield had opened it partially.
"A healer...hmm, that sounds like a good idea."
It was then Desrick caught sight of Uxul, restrained by Valac, and Burgren facing him down.
Flutterby

Burgren's face was grim, he nodded to Lohrithe, and hit his own chest with a gloved hand, an orcish symbol of respect for a fellow warrior. Then, he turned his attention onto Uxul.
"We shouldn't be divided!" He shouted at his former leader. Uxul snarled. "You should never have betrayed me. Release me! I will bathe in your blood!"
He went quiet, his lips curling in a fowl sneer. "Unless you're going to have your pet hold me while you gut me like the spineless coward you are."
Burgren said nothing to Uxul in that moment, merely gestured for Valac to let him go.
Zazz Mythee

"Lohrithe I'm already constricting as much as I can-!" Valac grimaced as he voiced his complaint, barely even noticing the arrival of more people, so much was he focusing on just making it through this rending experience with sheer willpower. Uxul's voice addressing someone other than Lohrithe finally got his attention. Through the blur of tear-filled eyes, he turned to see a blurry green figure he recognized as the orc he'd seen with Oralia earlier. "Oh goddess thank you for that." He was quick enough to disengage, wincing throughout the unfurling of his body, but careful to keep his released captive under suspicious watch all the while.

Once free Uxul rolled his shoulders, his sneer became a savage snarl. Both orcs flew at each other, death in their eyes.
Desrick watched with grim anticipation. If anyone tried to interfere Desrick stopped them.
"This is the orc way." Was all he said by way of explanation.
The fight was bloody, and so fast it was hard to track. The earth, soaked by the deluge flooding Delan, turned to a slick mud and made footing treacherous. Several times Burgren slipped and it nearly cost him his life. Burgren was not as strong as Uxul, it was easy for a trained eye to see, but he had form, and discipline, and Uxul was enraged that his warriors had fallen and the crystal remained on the ground where it had fallen.
The mistake was quick, Uxul overspent his reach, Burgren moved in underneath his enemy's guard and suddenly both went still.
Uxul was the first to stagger back, Burgren's blade buried in his chest. He collapsed in the mud, the rattling hiss of his last breath escaping into the darkness.
Then there was stillness, broken only by the patter of rain, which steadily grew into a strong deluge. What fire that had not been put out by the valiant efforts of warriors and villagers, the rain quickly consumed.
Desrick watched Burgren stumble, and only when he turned toward them could Desrick see the dagger hilt jutting from the soft flesh above his collar bone.
Burgren went to his knees, gasping short shallow breaths. He turned to Ora and there was a smile on his Olive-green face.
"Tell Desrick...what you told me. See my people treated fairly...the battle...It is done."
Those were the last words he would ever speak.
Crispin arrived to see Burgren fall. He lay beside his opponent, still, his expression peaceful. The Sumennan elves had retreated deep into the forest, heading back to the border with a prize obtained from another Cyndaran village.
The fight for Delan was won.
Zazz Flutterby Mythee Nevina Yatasal mothspit

((Time skip after this))

 

[Flutterby]

Ora didn't say anything while Desrick stood, hesitant to accept his smiling dismissal so easily. She did owe him a debt, more than he seemed to know. She turned to retrieve she swords as he fought to his feet, but snuck several glances to make sure he wasn't about to topple over. He managed to stand, and agreed to a healer. Her relief at that was short- Burgren and Uxul had finally found one another on the battlefield.

She stayed beside Desrick as he approached to watch, but almost stepped past him when they lunged. Burgren was strong, but not as strong as Uxul. This is too important to fight alone, we must-
Desrick's voice stopped her in her tracks, and she took an embarrassed, shuffling step back to stand slightly behind him. 'The orc way' was not agreeing with her today. Ora squeezed her eyes shut and held her breath every time Burgren slipped, every time Uxul's blade came too close. She couldn't bear to watch his end.
Uxul's fall was so sudden to her- lack of training meant she didn't notice the mistake, only the sudden stop. She thought the stillness meant absolute victory.

Ora took two steps, one to be even with Desrick, and another to move past him, before her new friend turned to look at them. Uxul's weapon stuck out of his skin. At first she didn't recognize it, until he fell to his knees and met her eyes. Her face changed from jubilation, to sadness, to the purest form for respect she had ever felt. She nodded mutely at his directions. Her feet carried her one step closer as his body met the mud, and then she wavered and stared at his fallen form from where she was.
She was grateful for the downpour of rain, even as it chilled her to shivering. Maybe no one would tell the difference between the raindrops and the tears on her cheeks.

 

[Zazz]

Like Desrick, Lohrithe kept the perimeter around the two warring orcs. His heart gave an uncomfortable scrunch at the sight of Desrick's wound reopening. But Ora was with him, he would be fine. Ora was good. So, the drow turned to the boy, Valac, and held him up beside him with one strong arm. He couldn't imagine what slithering around on all of his wounds would be like, so he did his best to hold the naga's weight from the ground.

"Once Uxul is defeated, we will find you a healer. You did well," he said to Valac with pride. Delan was safe... for now. Villagers were putting out fires; mud ran over his toes. Mud and blood. Lohrithe sighed heavily. Delan would need much work to be rebuilt. The beasts of the dark retreated, the whiterobes were nowhere to be found, if not slain.

With Uxul's death came tragedy; Burgren, the brave warrior, came to his death. Lohrithe's blood ran cold. His hair fell across his back and chest, plastered there by Cyndabrynde's tears. As Burgren uttered his last words, Lohrithe returned the orc's gesture of respect.

Easing Valac out of his grasp for a moment, Lohrithe crouched to pick up a smooth, flat stone from the mud. With his thumb, he rubbed it clean under the rainwater and stepped forward. Gently, he placed the stone on Burgren's unmoving chest and uttered a prayer to the Goddess for his soul. His good soul.

He then returned to Valac, lending him his support once again.

 

[SilverFlight]

Desrick stood by Ora, rain sheeting down in front of them, washing Burgren's body of the mud so the bones in his armour gleamed white again. He couldn't see her face but by her posture he could tell she was grieving.
He took the step that separated them and put a large, comforting hand on her shoulder.
"He died a warrior's death. An orc would not wish for it to be another way. I know that's little comfort, when you lose a friend...but because of him many lives were saved."
Flutterby

Desrick wasn't sure what spurred him to do what he did next: Whether it was the near death experience, or suddenly remembering the image of him in the middle of the fight, he turned to scan the battlefield for Lohr. When he found him he approached slowly, looking unsure of himself.
"Lohrithe...what you did..." He paused, put a hand through his soaking hair and tried again. "You shed blood for me...fought for me. It's not something I'll forget."
Looking at him now Lohr was no longer the skinny drow boy that had been sent to his clan, that Desrick had protected as best he could. He was a warrior, in body and spirit. Desrick's equal in every way.
Zazz

 

[Mythee]

Hearing Uxul's roar upon becoming ensnared, some of his subordinates glanced their commander's way- but Falsedge had no such interest in faraway events; She was busy fighting to prevent the orcs from getting away with Delan's crystal. Taking advantage of their distraction, she dashed forward and put her strength into one bloody hack after the other with her axe-like swords, not to merely wound her meaty opponents, but to cripple their combat ability- only aiming to kill when they were too many to handle, or when one was too good at breaking guard for her to risk prolonging the fight. She fought in a guarded manner, drawing away only a few opponents at a time, natural endurance keeping her focus sharp and her reactions quick even as the crystal's defense wore down and her clothes became soaked with sweat.

"What is it? You seem distracted." She spoke with the metallic tint of her mask, addressing the orc she faced when the opposition had begun to lack... how to say, motivation?
The female orc drew back, apprehensive, her gaze cast on a scene over this impetuous blue-haired Summerlander's shoulder. She had grown new hatred for her kind after watching her take out the eyes, arms, and (a favorite of hers, it would seem) the fingers of her comrades. Not only did the war djinn fight like a coward, she stole away their honor. But she saw that the warrior was highly skilled, and even though she- the orc- was weary, down an ear and hard of breath, the metal-masked summerlander was steady as she had been at the start of their fight. Now, with the leadership of their tribe in question, she was wise enough to take pause and answer the question, even despite the haze of anger clouding her sight.
"Uxul has been challenged." She spoke.
Falsedge glanced back, weapons still raised... but it was something else than the formidable fight between the orcs that caught most of her attention.

The Evereach elves were retreating before they had even gotten involved.
"Lady, you need to choose better allies."
"...That may be so."
Making no moves to protect their interests in this town, despite that the odds were coming back in the light elves' favor now that the monsters were on their way out... Something here was fishy. Lassard, that bastard. Did he have some other objective here? Was this all some test? There were some mysteries to unravel here, and their best possible source of intel- Uxul- perished before the many eyes locked on his final battle. The war djinn's eyes narrowed at that lost opportunity.

Valac, too, had been watching. He was supported in small part physically by Lohrithe, but in large part mentally, given how shaken he was. The warmth of the drow's blood-drenched arms was both appreciated and disturbing to the youth, who could not help but look away from the battle and shut his eyes tight when Burgren and Uxul struck at each other with lethal blows.
He did not want to open them again and add the memory of another lifeless face to today's body count. Should he be ashamed to wish that he could have kept even Uxul from death? It wasn't so long ago, he'd seen the orc leader and Desrick embrace each other like old friends...
Slitted eyes opened tentatively, and he felt nausea wash over him once more. His own heart nearly went still. They were both... dead?
Lohrithe's voice drew him back to reality again and he looked into the drow's face, slightly reassured by the silvery man's calm.
"Th-thanks." He spoke in response, shivering a little from the cooling rain that had begun to fall. "But I'm definitely... hoping never to have to do that again, hahaha..."
Some of the bashfulness returned to his voice, but it was clear that he had a lot to come to terms with in this new, violent reality.
Desrick was here now, and he tried his best to smile at the orc, if only to celebrate that he survived and took a first step toward making amends for his past.
"You did it, Desrick. Your people will know that you helped to defend their Way."
Zazz SilverFlight Flutterby

Standing near the crystal, it seemed the battleground had stilled. Falsedge gave the orc woman nearby a sidelong look and waggled her eyebrows.
"So, you wanna go for a drink at the tavern? Last I saw, the building was still standing."
The orc, in no mood to speak with a hateful Summenan, simply grunted a reply. There were others of her comrades now, warily approaching from farther away, ready to assist her if the fight should continue.
"I'll take that as a no. Jokes aside..." Falsedge cast her gaze over the bodies littered across Delan. Raindrops fell coolly upon her skin, the heat and adrenaline of combat sizzling away and leaving only a heavy spirit.
The town could be rebuilt, trees would grow again, but the lives lost today could not be regained.
They fall in the thunder, like rain on the temple, weeping... thousands following a dream's voice, in the shadow of tens of thousands of unknown fallen who came before. Listening to the abyss in four directions, I would sing from the gates of death, return home!
An old song, a warning about war.
"What are you doing? Don't squander yourselves on me. The battle's over." She looked toward the orcs that surrounded her, despite having lost both their leader and his challenger. Fals sighed and decisively sheathed her weapons in demonstration. Fighting shaped her every instinct, but her stubbornness could trump it any time. "You have your lives to keep, and your wounded to tend to. If you want to be fools, direct it elsewhere. I have a Song to look for." She waved. "'Been a pleasure."
They did not move to interfere, showing they had some sense after all. The warrior walked away from the fallen trunk of the great tree and toward the muddy part of the flooded town, in search of a certain light fae, and soon found Pyrrhus and his crew. What seemed to be a Cyndaran, and... was that a Summenan-? Damn it all over again.
"Still in one piece, Song? Miracles do happen!" Her cheerful, open-armed approach was cut short as she shot a pointed look at Quinn especially. "I see we have some new suspiciously timed additions. Since we're only now creeping back toward civil society, would a little forceful interrogation or two bother anyone?"

After coming face to face with one potential Evereach spy, it would be difficult not to suspect more to be lurking about. Her eyes darted to the trees, scanning them for strange shadows, small movements... and stilled upon spotting a flash of pale skin between the leaves, marked by a tattoo. The name Shadowhand came to mind. If Lassard had left her here for assassination, Falsedge would suspect the priestesses to be a target... But the Shadowhand she knew of had more complex interests in mind than merely following orders.
Now, what course of action to take?
Knowing her history, Falsedge had no doubt the assassin would have taken little offense to the way the war djinn had betrayed the house she had been sworn to serve. She took a step in her direction, hand on the hilt of a sword nevertheless. She called out.
"And the other guest over there- I'd smoke you out, but any more fire today and we'll be fresh out of air to breathe. Are you planning on showing yourself?"

Yatasal Nevina SilverFlight Zazz mothspit

 

[Yatasal]

Before Quinn could move, Trileon grew a pair of dragon arms and hopped easily from tree to tree, hacking them open and moving to the next one before Quinn could figure out how to move to the next tree closest to her. Soon, the water flowed onto the flames, and slowly the fire disappeared. The water only left blackened structures, soaked bodies, and a feeling of death on the village's very soul. Quinn watched the tree's water stop flowing, reduced to tiny trickles of water. Part of her wondered how long it would take the tree to heal, or if it would survive. If any of them would. It didn't matter, they were just trees. What mattered was her mission... Or lack of. Where was Lassard, anyway?

A quick scan of the area told her a few things. She saw some people below her, both Summerlanders. But neither of them were Evereach soldiers. In fact, as she looked for them, she saw no Evereach soldiers among the dead, unless they were burned or covered in mud. Which she expected, as she remembered that Lassard had moved his troops to the cliffs above the town. So where was he? The aftermath of a battle was the perfect time to rush in, right as the troops thought they were safe. It was a callous, brutal move, but it would get them their prize. What if... He wouldn't leave without her, would he? Granted, she had never met the man, maybe he didn't care about his scouts. But still, he requested her. If he didn't need a scout to come to this sunforsaken place, then he shouldn't have requested for one. Evereach wouldn't be happy to lose a competent scout.

A chilly feeling settled in her chest. He certainly wouldn't wait for her. She wouldn't, if she was him. She had seen Evereach tactics up close and personal. If you didn't take care of yourself, anything that happened to you was your fault. But now she was in the middle of Cyndara, without an exit strategy, without allies, without a plan. All she had was her hook, her knives, her clothes, and a fake name. Jilaina Revess. My name is Jilaina Revess. I'm here in Cyndara... Definitely not here to be a spy. Nope. Evereach? Heard of them, but I'm from a smaller city. They're in one of the bigger ones. Here in Cyndara... Why? Why come this far?

Quinn snapped twice, and settled her grip on her hook. She then crouched, and snapped her wrist, sending the hook's claws deep into the branch below her. The web cast held nicely, and she wrapped the rope around her wrist before leaping off the branch. The rope descended and went taut suddenly, bouncing her and swinging her forward. Quinn waited for the momentum to carry her back. She timed it, and waited for a full revolution before letting go of the rope. She landed in a crouch on a branch that was eight, maybe ten feet off the ground. She snapped twice, and felt the climbing hook return to her waist.

"Still in one piece, Song? Miracles do happen!" Her cheerful, open-armed approach was cut short as she shot a pointed look at Quinn especially. "I see we have some new suspiciously timed additions. Since we're only now creeping back toward civil society, would a little forceful interrogation or two bother anyone?"

Quinn wasn't sure what to say to that. Or rather, she wasn't sure what Jilaina would say to that. Hm. Better go the curious soul route. Quinn sat on the branch, swinging her legs gently. The branch was thick, and her heels hit the branch instead of swinging under it. She settled for just letting them hang. "Well, I have a few questions... What is all this? What happened here, and why?"

Not to mention I need reasoning for being here myself...

Mythee Nevina mothspit SilverFlight

 

[mothspit]

"You're right Azaria, the fire should be dealt with first. Delan can still be saved!"
In one fluid motion Pyrrhus was sliding down the sloped face, he jumped just before the bottom, clearing the small wood palisade and landing hard on the cobbled street. There was a mallet leaning against on of the houses and he snatched it up, swinging the long haft expertly as he galloped by. The wooden head collided with a support strut for the wooden troughs that made up a section of the aqueduct and the trough broke, spilling water out onto the street. Pyrrhus flew through the village, breaking struts and beams, flooding Delan in a great deluge. Water seeped through alleyways and thoroughfares, into houses and finally coursing back into the riverbed.
The water liberated from the trees by Quinn and Trileon cascaded down the trunks, stifling the fires gnawing at the ancient wood and flowing into the homes built about them. Steam rose and choked the canopy as one by one, the fires died.

Trileon let out a triumphant cry, swinging herself from branch-to-branch to reach the muddy ground safely. Truthfully. she never visited Delan that much-- Only when her hunts yielded luxurious pelts to be traded. Though she had only recently joined this fight, there was a certain excitement that flowed within her veins; Never before had she been directly responsible for such a grand outcome. Even then, her enthusiasm was cut short by the grave sight of corpses, both animal, orc, and elf. She dropped from the trees despondently, walking to the nearest fallen boar. She fell to her knees in the freshly drenched earth, and with both palms pressed gently on the lifeless animal, she made a silent prayer in her mind. The loss of sentient life was just as tragic, but it was the helpless and truly innocent that weighed on her heart the heaviest. At least the orcs and elves knew what they were getting into.

"They had no part in this," She said somberly, "What kind of.. monsters.. use helpless creatures to aid them in death?"

Trileon wasn't speaking to anyone in particular-- It was moreso her expressing her thoughts. A part of her wanted to cry, and Myst Queen knows that if she had more time, she'd bury them personally-- but tears and sentiments wouldn't bring back the lives lost here. She quickly gathered her composure and stood to her feet, brushing off the mud from her knees. Much to her surprise, more Summenans had joined the group. Something.. weird was going on here.

"I suppose things just got easier for turning attention to the flames. Right then, shall we move onward..? Er, what names do you go by?"

"The name given to me by my mother is Trileon, though those more adeptly familiar with the area call me the Forest Mother. I'm.. not used to seeing so many from the lands of light." She gestures to herself by placing her hand over her heart. The woman with long orange hair was wearing Cyndaran clothes, but had the resemblance of someone from Sumenna. Yeah, none of this made sense. It looked like that was going to be the norm for the immediate future.

"Well, I have a few questions... What is all this? What happened here, and why?"

Trileon nodded her head in agreement, "I'd like to know the same. I'm all for helping, but.." She pursed her lips in thought. This didn't look like a senseless show of aggressive authority; It was intentional. Whatever provoked the elves to convince orcs to betray their own kinfolk.. Was it done out of fear? Or dominance? Knowing the general temperament of Summenans when it came to their beastly counterparts, Trileon was more inclined to lean towards the latter. Though, even that didn't feel completely right.

"..This wasn't done out of sheer carelessness. The elves must be planning something."