Fantasy TOTTDLMTH Episode 3 (Completed)

[Celestial Speck]

Pilgrim59 | Larry | Worthlessplebian | Doctor Nope | xAlter | Remembrance | Zariel | Funnier President | ElenaIsCool

Hassan Nox I-Sen

Conestoga Wagon, Anthem County


​

Hassan had decided, he absolutely wasn't glad Caenis revealed himself now. The look he gave the lupus as both of their only medics ran off wasn't one that placed all guilt on him, but it was certainly one that made it clear he expected better from the other. He knows that finding the proper timing would be hard, what with their current state, but the results were deplorable.

Ugh. This is a mess. He felt himself rubbing his temples, administrating heavy breaths to ensure he keeps his calm. He succeeded, but there was no more time to be wasted anymore. He needed to address Caenis' situations nice and quickly, without leaving room for questions, and allowing the Iris Members and Harbingers alike to think logically over what happened and how to proceed. Admittedly, he didn't think of himself as capable of any of these points, at least not entirely, but as Sertek's Right Hand, he had a way with words that were hard to ignore. At least, he hoped that was the case still.

"I'm sure the Iris Company has many questions regarding Caenis," He addressed, eyeing the location of where the two medics ran off. "But be aware: this is not something in which we planned against any of you from the beginning. The Harbingers still are keeping their word: we will act as allies of the Iris until further notice... and this means revealing our secrets."

Once more, his gaze fell upon Caenis. The lupus knew now that it was up to him to answer all the questions that awaited him, all the possible yelling and looks of disgust, the same treatment the Harbingers received when they first encountered the Iris Company again. He just dearly hoped the wolf was honest and didn't make matters worse. It sounded ironic, but he dearly hoped at this moment that the ties he had with the Iris were honest to a degree. Perhaps that could help them.

"But none of that matters now," With his voice becoming heavier, Hassan's tone became more authoritative. "Two of our medics have gone rogue and left on their own. Another one of our own is comatose. And it's more than likely there will be more guards circling us if we wait any longer. Don't do any foolish decisions. Nobody else needs to be missing."

Taking a deep breath, he began walking towards where the wagon was, but his eyes were still attentive in case anyone else tried to be the third to run off.

 

[Huntertabbysandshark3]

Sir Galious Meeples
interaction: (anyone at the wagon I guess?)​

Galious was left in an annoying situation when it came to hauling his no so ill-gotten gains back to the Conestoga having been suck in the snow or a few minutes and not game on actually using the golems that he'd actually acquired due to their sub-par standards when compared to Galious's exacting scrutinisation. and thusly he'd let out an annoyed sigh knowing he would have to remove two of them just to cart these materials back his personal quest leaving him unaware of the far more serious events that had transpired instead he would sit there grumbling pulling out one of the golems the small entity was about half the size of Galious standing motionless without any aetherial energy powering and thusly having to tap it get it operating. the small construct buzzing to life and tugging the back along behind Galious even if he disliked it. once one the flare shot into the air did galious make any actual haste back to the Conestoga wagon Upon returning Galious be entirely out of the loop looked at everyone gathered quizzical. “What happened did someone annoy the wrong merchant? Or did someone get recognised?” Galious asked honestly the small golem hauling the sack up and into the wagon so it wouldn’t be a futher issue.

 

[Pilgrim59]

Friedhelm
Havenite Airspace
​

Cpt. Hellriegel
Havenite Airspace

Lady Bella
Lawbie Manor​

Within the comforts of his bedroom, free from the shackles of his job, the Grandmaster locked gaze with his wife, of whom had been eyeing him since he opened his eyes. Friedhelm knew what she wanted to say and chose to compartmentalize it as he had always done. But despite this fact, of which was made known to Bella for some time now, the woman persisted - perpetuating a constant barrage of inputs to strengthen her husband's resolve, while chipping away at the barrier that he have conjured for himself ever since the conclusion of the war. Like any ideal men of his stature, they often let their emotions bleed them internally rather than seeking help.

"She's not coming back, you know that, don't you? No one should be her replacement, even Hellriegel." Bella embraced her husband, reeling the man back from his unspoken thoughts.

"I know." the man replied with a reticent voice.

For the shattered faith that he endured at Onyx Valley, there was only so much he could do before snapping like a twig. The breakage of his heart was not the worst of it, but rather the delusions that followed it that threatened to put others in peril. Like Sylvia, he became skilled at rationalizing of sacrificing a fragment of his soul to save hundreds if not thousands. If it was not for Bella, he would have drowned in his own sorrows day after day.

"So long as you know." Bella pecked his cheek, then proceeded to fashioning his hair as his usual style were often accounted for.

Having spent the night at Lawbie Manor, at the behest of Bella's hospitality, Hellriegel donned her cloak and made haste as a firefly dispatch arrived at the manor's steps. Weaving her hand with purpose across the space before her, the captain cupped her chin with curiosity as the firefly relayed the voice of a fellow colleague. The captain, half-asleep, began to drag her way towards the kitchen to procure some Channai brew. There, she caught the Grandmaster descending the stairs. The man raised his brow, curious as to what she had to say, as Hellriegel stood dead in her tracks like an animal avoiding a colossal predator by appearing inanimate in their posture.

"What is it?" Friedhelm inquired, adjusting his sleeves.

By Aerilia, I was almost invisible! Hellriegel thought to herself, having been spotted by her boss. She let off a heavy sigh.

"Oh right! Message, Grandmaster. A patrol went out this morning in Anthem and allegedly encountered Mrs. Sylvia."

"That's what the salista-addicts said a few days ago for a couple of ryns. How solid is this?" Friedhelm replied, keen on dismissing the news as nothing more than another false alarm.

"The survivor reported that the assailant pounced his partner and tore them apart like a feral beast. Modus operandi does not match Mrs. Sylvia's record, but some of our informants in Anthem have confirmed the presence of the other Companions and their unidentified accomplices. Should I send a detachment?" Hellriegel reported, awaiting on her superior's decision.

"Fetch the horses. We move out in ten." Friedhelm commanded, before hurryingly sweeping Hellriegel out of his house like a broom upon unwanted dust. "But the coffee-..." Hellriegel tried to get a word in before being sent into the elements. "Well, DiConti's ride-through it is... Right. Horses." Hellriegel said to herself, shifting both of her finger points to the left in unison.

Fixing his black attire, the Grandmaster drew a deep breath before being caught by his wife. He gave an acknowledging look, as she descended the stairs. "Go get them, Grandmaster." Bella said softly, handing the man his armament. His lips met her forehead, taking the scent of home before departing.

Before long, the two Black Watch were mounted and on their way southward.

"I want the squarebacks canvassing the area and a perimeter set up by the time we get there. I don't care if it's Frostival, call all available units within the vicinity on site." Friedhelm said to Hellriegel, of whom was already jotting down his orders with a grozite device from which she would relay the orders to the vanguard riders with a few fireflies dispatched simultaneously.

Having made contact with Barley's Keep on the ground, it did not take long for the Black Watch's requisition to be approved by the Chancellor to follow through with their mission of defeating the Companions by any means necessary. Among them was the recently retrofitted Astalon-Class Sky Fortress - the Aquila. Designed as the Black Watch's mobile headquarter, in the form of a heavily armed airship, the Aquila has been developed in the later stages of the Fourth Daemonic War in order to facilitate the Black Watch's intercontinental displacements. The aerial behemoth stretched out before the Grandmaster and the captain, boasting its rotary grozite turrets and aetherial shielding system.

By the time the two were beneath the Aquila's shadows, Hellriegel quickly dismounted and gathered her company of Watchers aboard the Sky Fortress. Having done so, the captain traversed the metallic corridor, en route to the briefing room. Treading the ladders, she exaggerated her exhaustion with every step she took upwards until the Grandmaster's presence dissuaded her of such notions. She quickly situated herself among the rest of the other officers, tiptoeing as best she could to get a peek at the map.

"Listen up. The Companions have been spotted in Anthem, as confirmed by our informants on the ground which coincided with one of the garrison's patrol report. From this moment forward, any and all information concerning the Companions come through here. Aliases, travel records, part-time professions, all the way down to how they eat their toast, anything of relevance are vital intels until considered otherwise. Got it? Once we hit the ground, secure the perimeter, expand south and eastward. Grab the local garrisons to augment your company if needed, but maintain unit cohesion." Friedhelm went over the general house rules, scanning his subordinates briefly, including Hellriegel's puerile visage.

"Until the Companions are defeated and apprehended, the Aquila is your new home. I expect you to do your part to bring them to justice. Officers, tend to your troops. Maintain situational reports at intervals, standard rules of engagements. Now git." The Grandmaster added, dismissing his subordinates as he eyed Hellriegel briefly. The latter choosing to let the others out the room first. Before she could leave the room, the Grandmaster's voice plucked her out of the sashaying officers like a feather from a bird. "Captain. A word if you please."

"Grandmaster. I did not consume those delicious pecan pie leftovers in the icebox before you woke, I swear!" Hellriegel subtly confessed with a panicked expression.

"It was you? Hm. No matter, that is inconsequential. We still have approximately twenty minutes before disembarkment. Just make sure to get something in your stomach." The Grandmaster advised, with initial surprise by Hellriegel's odd response. The man sighed slowly, before gesturing the captain out of the room, to which the latter complied with a salute and a nonchalant smile.

 

[Funnier President]

Kazan Hi
Mood: "Buh-Bye, Tree Man!"
Interactions: Zariel , Huntertabbysandshark3 , Pilgrim59 , Celestial Speck , xAlter , Worthlessplebian , Doctor Nope

Shopping really wasn't her strong point, she just knew how to get all the basic necessities- and yet, she found herself enjoying herself. She had had a long conversation with Irelia, catching up on what both of them had done since the war. She let Irelia do all of the main shopping, and kind of just carried the stuff and explored the area. She caught sight of the-adorablest-frog-to-ever-live hauling something, and she waved hello at him as she followed Irelia to whatever needed purchasing now. And yet, she still hadn't asked the question.

She had come up with over a dozen ways of asking about Laure, but she still... was too nervous? Usually, she was the one asking the questions everyone was too awkward too ask. Besides, she had her suspicions, and she didn't like where they lead. Still, she might as well rip the metaphorical band-aid of, so with a ball in her gut, she turned to Irelia, question heavy on her tongue..

But it joined the ball in her stomach when she saw the flare go off. So instead of asking the question, she stuffed it for later, again.

"Y'know, I think we're done shopping- Lets move like a tree and leaf!"

It was a bit difficult, trying to run with all of the stuff in her hands. And the pain in her arms wasn't helping.

*------------*

Approximately one nearly run over child later (not her finest moment), she arrived at the wagon, partially winded. And of course, there was a goddamn corpse. And no Sylvia. Didn't take an adorable frog to figure this one out. She tried to tune out the voices of everyone else as she looked at the thing that had once been a body.

She jerked her head back up as Preston started- well, acting like his threads of sanity had snapped (no pun intended. For real) Puzzled, she watched as Preston screamed out his spider lungs at Senna, then just ran the heck away to find Sylvia. She was still processing that, when Eryn decided to join the hunt, and ran after Preston. Honestly, she was tempted to join them, but then Hassan said stopped her dead in her tracks. Many questions about Senna....

And then it clicked. And she was postitvly irked, something not often seen for the magma mage. Senna.... was a spy? And why couldn't they have revealed this earlier?

She was just done with all of this, honestly.
As sneakily as she could; she began to lightly jog towards the direction where Eryn and Preston had went, then ran after them when she was partially sure that nobody was watching.

To hell with Tree Guys opinion. Besides, she wasn’t “foolishly running off”, she was simply attempting to provide support for the medics. Well, everyone else might not see it that way….. but hey, since when had that stopped her?



​

 

[Zariel]

──────────────────────────────────────
Irelia Sonan
──────────────────────────────────────
— The Dawnbringer —
​

Irelia and Kazan's requisite shopping undertaking was cut short, brought to an abrupt end following a fusillade of arcing flares that would portend some grave occurrence. Though they still had coins to spare, Irelia hastily ambulated out of the camp and hurried over to the Conestoga where the rest had already gathered. There was worrying news—Sylvia had gone missing.

Together, the group ventured through the snow, following the revelatory impressions transiently left on the white surface. Much to the Irelia's perturbation, the footsteps trailed to a horrific spectacle. The stomach-wrenching site of a mutilated corpse. Irelia didn't want to believe it. But it was her disposition to be fair and just. She could not refute the facts, so plain for all to see. This murder was Sylvia's doing.

Accurse those squarebacks! Irelia clenched her fists.

Nightmarish memories of her dark past invaded her thoughts. From a time when her sacred title had been perverted, and she became known as The Bloody Maiden. She could not let go of them. They were a part of her.

Unneeded discord ensued, and matters took a turn for the worst, stemming from the unwise decision of Senna choosing to stand alongside the Harbingers. Irelia had her suspicions from the previous night. Senna's misalignment under this turbulent circumstance only served as further corroboration. And clearly, some of the Iris members took this nigh candid revelation of betrayal worse than others.

Preston was livid. The Arachnida threatened to kill Senna before going rogue and darting off into the forest. On his way out, Preston dispatched one of Senna's clones. A solemn warning and statement of resentment. Eryn, who found the entire situation abstruse - perhaps for the better, Irelia thought - followed suit and chased after his fellow doctor.

Excellent. Now that made three missing Iris.

Surprisingly, Irelia wasn't as startled as some of her comrades. She'd been half-expecting something like this to happen. No war is without its traitors. The fact that Senna could so insouciantly choose to sit alongside their sworn enemy over his own companions was already a red flag.

The Dawnbringer shifted her gaze, letting her eyes meet with Odhrán. The latter nodded despondently, affirming the actuality of Senna's treachery.

Irelia sighed, crossing her arms.

"So it's true then, Senna..." she said. "You're one of them."

The First Harbinger attempted to intercede. But it was a little too late, for half of the Company had already vanished. For years they saw Sertek as the monster, but at this moment in time, it was Sylvia who succumbed to her inner demons. Hopes of order and unity amongst them had all but faded. The conflation of Sylvia's agonized mental state and Senna's perfidy had taken its toll on the group. It was embarrassing to see the only one with intentions of upholding some form of order in all this was the First Harbinger.

Irelia felt ashamed.

"Now is not the time for all this. Really, Senna, you could've at least picked a better time," Irelia scolded. "While I'm just as inclined to reprimand you as the next person, I'd be foolish to do so right now."

She looked towards the other two Iris members through the corner of her eyes.

"Odhrán, Kazan, though the truth is out, I request that both of you keep your lips sealed on the matter. We don't need to deal with any more difficulties when more pressing challenges are afoot. Besides, I'm feeling generous enough to let this... Harbinger impart the truth himself to Sylvia," she said, then returning her attention to Senna. "When the time comes, Sylvia will deal with you as she pleases... But for your sake, I think it's best we keep your identity a secret a little while longer. At least... until Sylvia is in a more reasonable mood."

"Though it is problematic... Don't get me wrong, I wish for the safety of all my comrades, but I do so hope that we find Sylvia before Preston and Eryn do. Otherwise, I fear things will get rather complicated."

Irelia could see how Hassan struggled to keep her group under control. They weren't making it easy for him. It'd be a lie if Irelia didn't feel somewhat sorry for him. What they needed now was cooperation, not dissension. Perhaps, providing a fellow blader some succour was required, with the hopes to restore order. If she was acquiescent, maybe it would instil some confidence and trust in her remaining comrades to follow suit and comply.

"Alright then, First Harbinger, I'll follow your lead... this time. I don't plan on letting any more of my allies perish." Irelia said earnestly.

 

[xAlter]

Caenis Vasilias Koimamai
Location: Conestoga Wagon, Anthem County
Interactions: Celestial Speck Zariel
Mentions: Worthlessplebian Doctor Nope Pilgrim59

Caenis knew there was going to be backlash and chaos for his reveal. He knew there would be anger, hate, confusion, and guilt. He felt the emotions pointed at him; he didn’t need to be an empath to know. The vicious manner in which he saw his clone get torn to pieces by Preston, resonated through his body. Phantom pains wracked up and down and he ignored them. They were only phantom pains after all. The two medics running off, the hateful words in his ears. He ignored them all. It was all part of his job.

Turning to the rest of the group, Caenis idly noted from the corner of his eye, Irelia’s look of disappointment. “Yes it’s true,” he responded coolly. He didn’t have any reason to deny it anymore. The secret was out. “I am indeed a Harbinger, I have been this whole time.” Of course, as the number of Iris Companions began to dwindle in numbers, Caenis regarded Irelia’s statement of a better time. Maybe at one time, Caenis would’ve defected from the Harbingers, revealed his secrets to them before the entirety of the coalition. He would have officially joined the Iris Companions, not as Senna, but as Caenis. Maybe then the outcome, this future they were hurtling towards, could’ve been different. All of them were what-ifs. No point in dwelling on it now.

Senna, Caenis, they were just names at this point. Maybe Senna was that childish part of him that he tried to lock away when he began his apprenticeship under Laia. Maybe it was that doubt that plagued his mind, serving under Sertek, wondering if this was the right path. Or maybe it was the part of him that wanted to do something good for the world, something more. At this point, he didn’t care. His identity, who he was, he knew it at the end of the day and that was all that mattered.

“Forgive me then, Dawnbringer.” he said again, his voice emotionless, slow, resolved, and he began returning to the mindset he once held in the war. “I was so focused on the thoughts inside my head, on resolving my own inner turmoils, I forgot about the world around me, and the issues that plague us. I won’t ask for forgiveness, I am beyond that. Hate me, curse me, it matters not. I have many sins, but regrets, this isn’t one of them. I know who I am and what I am. I am Caenis, a Harbinger of Sertek, the Daemon King.” Shaking his head, and resting his rifle on his shoulder, before turning to Irelia once more. “I’ll answer questions and deal with the aftermath, whatever it may be, once we rescue the Angel of Verdan.”

He turned back to Hassan, looking for orders, commands, to save the person he was at one point, tasked with killing. A lone whisper followed, however. His mind wandered back to where it all began, a lone boy, neglected by his own family. “Hate is a powerful emotion, wouldn’t you agree, Dawnbringer?”

 

[Larry]

Odhrán von Starkenburg
Location: Abandoned Church, Anthem County, Haven.
Mood: A tad bit frazzled, but mostly calm.
Mentions: Pilgrim59 | xAlter | Doctor Nope | Worthlessplebian
Interactions: Celestial Speck I Zariel ​

It seems that the islander's furtive efforts were all for nought, now that Caenis had disclosed the perfidy himself. As it stood, however, that was the least of their worries; Sylvia had vanished, leaving the ghastly remains of a squareback, his blood dappling the snow-quilted scene around them. To complicate the rapidly deteriorating situation even further, Preston, in understandable consternation, darted to search for their commander, dispatching one of Senna's clones with consummate viciousness. Eryn, fearing for his fellow clinician's wellbeing, bolted after the arachnidan, to ensure his safety, owing to the state of mind that Preston was in at the moment.

The Aran native sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration at the way Fortune, once again, laboured to importune the hapless group of once-upon-a-time heroes. To think that the only thing on his mind, having returned to the group, was trying to relay the actualisation of the idea Hassan had suggested to him. Though the First Harbinger made him swear to secrecy as to the origin of the gesture, there was a sudden thought in Odhrán's mind, that threatened to belay them honourable intentions, at the moment of his telling the group. How Sylvia would have reacted in such a scenario, was another question. The wounds that Laure's death impressed upon all of them still ached, none more so than Sylvia. If the Sygis had seen the act as being one that mocked her mentor's memory, the possibility of her attacking Hassan with the same savagery she did the squareback, didn't seem a too unrealistic contingency.

But a common soldier, for her to ravage them in such a baleful fashion, was not like her at all.

Odhrán cursed himself; whilst he was too busy lamenting his own circumstances, he overlooked Sylvia's languishing state of mind, battered by the death of her mentor and the revelation of her husband to be none other than the very being prophecy enjoined on her to vanquish.

Life had been leased to her with most unfavourable conditions, and yet she trudged on, regardless of the tragedies that were trundled before her.

Forgive me for being such a lousy subordinate Sylvia...and even a lousier friend, he thought lamentably to himself, before a solemnness seized his bearing.

He nodded in affirmation to Irelia's suggestion; there was little point in fraying the tension within the group even further, now that Sylvia had vanished.

Recognising Hassan taking charge of the situation, he turned to the Jianki swordsman.

"We follow your lead, Hassan."

 

[Worthlessplebian]

Preston Saytzeff Pacer, Preston of Met Di Plurida
Mentions: Pilgrim59 xAlter Celestial Speck Interactions: Doctor Nope Funnier President
Location: Following Tracks.

In the arachnid's blinding rage, he had not noticed the fellows that followed. He had never moved like this before. Yes, you may recall back to the day of the sewers where his speed quite literally transformed him into a blur of black, orange, and grey. This was not like that. Nothing like that. His conscious mind had moulded his instincts and reason into one state, the hunter who tracks his commander's footsteps and the healer who calculates every move. His claws sink into trees and feet kick off them. In the milliseconds between leaps, he studies his surroundings and takes note of the tracks ahead. He anticipates that they will disappear soon, knowing his commander personally, but has already acquired a good sense of where they might lead should that happen.

Then suddenly, the noise of crushing and mushing snow occurred as Preston landed on all fours. The sleeves and cuffs of his clothing were flaked by snowy particles. His octuple eyes meticulously scanned his surroundings, his other senses had detected a disturbance amongst these leafless twigs. His right hand closed around a tuft of snow.
It was getting closer, and closer, and closer...

UNTIL HE STRUCK OUT BEHIND HIM.

His spear limb had ALMOST skewered Eryn, his peer in the medical field. Preston's jaw froze and his eyes widened. "Eryn?!?... What possessed you to come after me?!" The Spider uttered as he rose from his knelt position, policing his tone to not alert any nefarious threat. Grasping Doctor Eryn's shoulders, Preston spoke. "I departed because you were there! If you weren't, I've would struck Caenis in his liver and remained." Preston had snapped out of his self-induced mental state. The feeling of regret that he dragged Eryn along built up, but not before he noticed the pyromancer behind him. "Oh, Kazan... Not you too..." The guilty feeling had quadrupled in strength. A deep sigh escaped the spider. "As long as we're here, might as well use this to our advantage." Preston waved Kazan to hurry over.

"We will be sticking together, I'll be the radar, Eryn, you're the long-range, and Kazan, you're the artillery. As always, I assume." He pointed down a path that was disturbed by footprints or something. "It is my belief, that Sylvia went down that path or her assailants did. It is best we're on guard."

"How does that sound?"" He asked for confirmation from his two friends and he hoped the others fared well in their absence. That Swordsman better lead them well.

 

[Pilgrim59]

Sylvia
Unknown, Anthem
Interacted: N/A
Mentioned: N/A ​

Everywhere the lancer trod, foreign voices circled her like vultures, luring her deep into the woods. The cold snow was akin to that of the Long March upon Mount Hornet. Yet, the cold then gave her purpose, while Anthem's snow was that of a purgatorial ground. What was left of her cognizance was urging her to drag herself through the frigid grounds. She walked on and on until she could no more. A sudden warmth fell from her cheeks - a feeling most foreign to the hero until recently. The same sensation that was felt in the catacombs where Laure fell. For reasons unknown to her, the hero was weeping for another. Premonitions of an ill warrior. Perhaps it was her mind playing tricks on her. Even now, Sylvia could not discern the reality from that of her tainted mind. Did she finally snap? After years of keeping her nightmares and breathless nights to herself? A frigid breeze quickly wiped the tears off the hero's red cheeks, as she summoned her Solomon's Edge. Shifting her footing as she did, the hero directed her throw towards the blatant silhouette that stood as still as the idle pines around them.

Sylvia's crimson eyes widened, as her optics confirmed the presence of her assailant in the form of an identical pair of reds beneath their silvery strands. The hero's expressions soured, creasing until it was like that of pure rage. The subject of their wrath had presented themselves, sparing the hero their longest route. The assailant merely shifted their steps, catching the hero's lance within their firm and timely grasp as if they had predicted such a move.

"Warranted, but nevertheless a rude greeting, sister." The mysterious agent smirked, claiming to their kin.

"FIVE!" Sylvia cried with her teeth clenched. Her piercing scream, filled with surging aetherium echoed across the forest like that of a wrathful banshee.

Sylvia leapt forward with haste, closing her distance with speed, just as Five tossed Sylvia's lance into the air. The hero, in a swift act, caught it with her hand and swung right. Five, on the other hand materialized their own armament - mocking the hero with a similar class of weapon, albeit with a sable design. The two exchanged blows, sparking steely ambers and cyan fragments from colliding aetherium. The lancers parried with haste, while offering various methods of counterattacks. Sylvia's rage threw away her defensive capabilities, diverting all her raw strength and abilities into the target before her. The whirlwind of glamorous flickers of their metallic skirmish evolved into a dangerous game of carefully placed steps. What Sylvia perceived at the church the night before gnawed at her. The word that she muttered to herself beneath Aerilia's altar was now spoken aloud for her by Five. Of all the truths that she conjured for herself, this was not one the hero would take lightly.

Throughout her barrage of unrelenting thrusts and blunt swings, Five would parry them all without so much as the courtesy of returning the favor haphazardly. It agitated the hero, as if Five was toying with her. What antagonized Sylvia even more was the fact that her opponent was able to match their movement with hers. From each stroke of their armaments to the way she was able to deflect Sylvia's feint footings - a mirror upon a mirror. Sylvia refused to believe Five's words to be true, she could not accept it. Even as she find herself plagued with fatigue and at the mercy of Five's inevitable counter-attack. Still recovering from the massive loss of her aetherium in their last encounter, Sylvia had limited options on hand. The armored lancer took a deep breath and resolved to follow through with one decisive move. Realizing what Sylvia had in mind, the black lancer broke off their current engagement. Stemming their black spear into the pale snow, Five activated their own spellcraft. Sylvia's blue aetherium, having been mustered at the hero's will, was unleashed forth with purpose. Five's eye widened, as their shifting irises, like clockwork, shifted the ground beneath them. Before long, a scarlet ray of light burst glowed brightly, covering their immediate area of engagement. Followed by a disruptive distortion that shook the very earth itself, the hero's flames were extinguished within an instance. Sylvia felt her strength and aetherium robbed from her body.

"How?!" Sylvia muttered to herself, eyeing Five briefly. The latter of whom had a sinister smirk upon their visage, proclaiming their victory over the exhausted hero.

"It is time you wake up from your foolish dreams." Five eyed the hero briefly, before brushing her open palm upon Sylvia's forehead. A shimmer of light flashed before them, causing the hero to relinquish their posture and fell to the snow in pain. They cried and winced at the sharp stimulus that felt like a thousand fire ants devouring her head from the inside out. Before long, the agonizing sensation would end, and the tormented hero looked upon the illusory snow that fell from the heavens. A misty breath ushered forth from her quivering lips.

Sertek
Anthem County

Cpt. Hellriegel
Anthem County
Interacted: N/A
Mentioned: Celestial Speck

​

Sertek eyed the rest, some of which were keen on siding with Hassan, as painfully clear as it appeared that what Sertek should have done was follow through with his faith in them - as he did at the SMI. Every inch of his body wanted to abide by his conscience. The preservation of one's self and the rationalization of the harder decisions among the rest. Alas, with his memories still hazy and the recent revelation of a hidden agent among them, one of his own making in the past, the Daemon Lord could not abide by his past decisions. Instead, he would contradict himself for the overwhelming emotions that plagued him.

Before the Daemon Lord could make his decision, a set of glimmering shadows navigated past him and the rest of the assembly. The umbral spots grew larger and larger, far too large for mere winter birds. Something was afoot, the man thought to himself, looking up at the clear sky to see troopers falling from the sky - artificial snow, a sight to behold by the untrained eyes. Equipped with threaded apparatus that allowed them to descend from the air without the aid of wyverns, the troopers in black took the Companions and Harbingers off-guard. Among the troopers was an energetic lady, whose cords were quickly severed as she plunged into the snow with a sommersault.

"DEATH FROM ABOVE!" She announced her entry, knocking the Daemon Lord back as the latter reinforced their fist just in time to deflect the Black Watcher's blow. The Solingen steel withdrew itself as the woman leapt back to keep her distance.

"Oh hey, the gang's all here! Whoa! You shoddy lot must be the notorious Harbingers. Apologies, where are my manners? Black Watch Captain of Horthy Company, Hellriegel. You are all under arrest! Please do not resist or make any sudden moves! We have you surrounded!" Hellriegel announced, with her luminous launcher fired off into the air - alerting the rest of the paratroopers to converge on her location. They were also complemented by the local squareback garrisons in between them.

All hell broke loose when Sertek leapt backwards and made a run the trees to the south and hopefully retrieve the Conestoga.

"Hey! Oh well. Company, fire at will!" The Captain responded in force, ordering the fireteams in enfilade to open fire on the group. The precise groupings of the standard-issued riflemen briefly suppressed the Daemon Lord, forcing him to break left instead. The man threw fists with the converging troops from the southeast, neutralizing several troopers within his proximity. The gunners, trained on Sertek's position, quickly retaliated with a disciplined volley - prompting the Daemon Lord to harden his arm as a makeshift shield. He quickly found out that the strange mix of blue tracers that shattered the crystallization upon his skin were attributed to the Empire's expansive arsenal. While these groza ballistas were not as effective as cura ballistas, the fact that he cannot face the riflemen head-on meant that the Daemon Lord must take cover and concealment first and foremost, before he could regroup with the rest of their group. Having brushed his way eastward for a while, the Daemon Lord managed to lose his pursuers for a while, but not before another unknown force found him.

"Sylvia!" The Daemon Lord rushed forth, waving at the armored commander. The latter, in a swift movement, twisted their torso with fluidity and pitched their arm at an angled motion. Immediately, the Solomon Edge was conjured forth and pierced through Sertek's heart with one unexpected and precise throw.

Blood spilled from Sertek's mouth as this elongated armament weighed his spine forward - forcing him into a kneeling fashion. Before the man could react, or expedite his self regeneration, he caught a glimpse of Sylvia's armored fingers loosely spaced with purpose. The appearance that she donned on her face was different from that of the Sylvia that he used to know. The windows of her soul were still intact, but its vivid and compromising glimmers were lost forever to the scarlet void. As Sylvia's hand curled up into a fist before her, the lance glowed briefly before carving a larger hole through his chest as the weapon detonated. Sertek's crystalized arm, unable to fully form in time, was quickly detached from his physique in the explosion. The lancer raised their hand, conjuring forth their Azure Gospel in a concisely-formed volley that navigated their intertwining paths and pinned themselves against the pieces of the Daemon Lord's remains - detonating indiscriminately. Sylvia looked on, taking into sight of Sertek's last look at her, as the Iris and Harbingers fought off the Black Watchers on their tail. Her ring finger twitched slightly, as her heart throbbed with a heavy note. The Daemon Lord's death sold better by epic tales and poems than it did now - where their demise seemed as if they were wiped from existence. Reneging the heartfelt moments that they might have shared up until now, the silver-haired lancer folded her trembling hands and marched eastwards.

Raising her spear, the hero eyed dismembered arm that she saved for last. Sylvia donned for herself an expressionless visage, one that was robbed of any compromising spirit that she might have held before. Despite this, she could not help but shed a tear for the vanquished Daemon Lord. What she had failed to do before was now a deed undone by this form of hers. So grotesque in its method, yet so beautifully effective had only she embraced it at Saarema. The lancer procured for herself Sertek's lifeless arm and disappeared into the forest. Among the chaos of that ensued, another soul was shaken - stirred into life once more as their master's demise shook the very earth itself. All that was left of the Daemon Lord was the cravat that Sylvia kept between her bosom. Whether on purpose or by negligence, it remained with the walking husk of a hero. At last, the tale of Frostival befell them as it did the Second Sygis.

"Master!" The woman awoken with sweats filling their pale face like that of a iced mug left in the heat. Picking up their robes, the Astrian lifted located their exit by tracing the enchanted canvas that appeared like solid walls. Their head was swelling with a hammering sensation as they finally dragged themselves outside and head first into the snow. She dug her head out of the deep snow and scanned her environment.

Sporadic gunfire between the treelines and the sight of men snowing from the heavens seemed almost dreamlike. The sight of Harbingers and Companions alongside one another, as well as other faces, familiar or estranged, gave the aries a brief relapse. On all of her fours, the woman veered towards her side, where a squareback stumbled onto the scene. On instinct, the short Astrian rushed towards the trooper and leapt onto their torso. Raising their visor swiftly, she shot a spell straight into the opening. With the squareback passed out, the Astrian turned to her side and threw up into the snow. Before she could even get her bearing, the aries had threw herself at the trooper on impulse. The dreamweaver got on her feet, taking in the situation from afar. She had to get the wagon to cover and pickup her compatriots somehow. But even such a notion was a foolish one, especially when there is a war going on. The safest assumption would be losing the Imperials within the eastern forest. Without the sufficient amount of focus and aetherium to conjure forth, any hopes of directing the Harbingers mentally was not viable - at least not in this capacity. The woman took a deep breath, and attempted to channel her aetherium gradually.

 

[Zariel]

Battle Music

• Irelia
• Hassan

• 
  
  
  ──────────────────────────────────────
  Irelia Sonan
  ──────────────────────────────────────
  — The Dawnbringer —​
• 
  
  
  ──────────────────────────────────────
  Hassan Nox I-Sen
  ──────────────────────────────────────
  — The First Harbinger —​

They were here, falling from above harnessed to long cords, alongside the drifting snow—Black Watch.

Notions of contempt washed over Irelia, flooding each atom of her being. The events of that day still left a foul taste in her mouth; the destruction of the chapel, the needless elimination of Black Watch troopers, her duel with Hellriegel, and the death of the turncoat named Sigismund. Worst of all, she deeply regretted being distrait from aiding her comrades back then. The swordmaiden's absence preluded grievous consequences.

The unforeseen demise of Laure.

Much to Irelia's chagrin, it was Hellriegel again, accompanying her lapdogs. At the chapel, Irelia had been reserved in their battle, not wishing to inflict serious harm unto the Captain. But it would seem to Irelia that her well-intentions was a mistake, as here Friedhelm's prized subordinate stood in perfect health, once again, to apprehend the joint coalition of Company and Harbingers. Or even worse yet... kill them all, judging from the orders she commanded her troops.

Irelia refused to allow it. Bloodshed was inevitable, but any spilt would belong to the Watchers.

She beckoned Amaterasu from its magical sheath, grasping it firmly in her palm—the tempered blade glowing a divine gold. The swordmaiden deftly scanned what was about to become a battlefield, already electing her first target. A 'hidden' sniper on their right flank.

The man laid in the snow with his gun held dexterously in front of him. Like the cold encompassing him, he belayed his breath, his body frozen in place. With one keen eye open, he peered through the scope of his firearm with a false sense of security.

Blink.

All of a sudden, something yanked the sniper out of his snow bed in a trice, pulling him back onto his feet. The man looked down at his chest in shock at the tip of a shining golden blade. His mind raced as his breath grew choppy from panic, expecting pain and blood from cold steel. But the sword was hot. Scorching hot. It was as if every vessel in his body had been set ablaze like a firework fuse.

Irelia spoke, whispering in the man's ear. "I am no longer alone. I have no reason to exert restraint, for there are friends I wish to protect. That is my vow. So you shall perish."

In an instant, the man's entire body became engulfed in sun fire, burning him alive. Irelia pulled the sword from his body, and he fell to the ground. A flaring corpse in the snow.

There were waves of Watchers pouring from the sky, and Irelia's first kill hadn't gone unnoticed. Without turning around, the swordmaiden's eyes shifted. A small group of five riflemen—she heard them trudging through the snow at least fifty paces away.

Once they were close enough for a clear shot, they opened fire. Irelia pre-emptively cast her golden mirror, a magnificent sigil embellished with a flower. A clash of bullets against an aetherial shield rang out. As each projectile hit, the Mercurial Mirror glowed all the more brightly, charging up. Soon, the riflemen's round of gunfire came to an end, forcing them to reload. Wasting no time, Irelia seized the opportunity to counter-attack.

"They never learn," Irelia said disappointedly.

The Mercurial Mirror turned into gyrating golden tendrils that coalesced into an accreting ball of light. The swordmaiden then sent forth the gathered ball of energy as a rapid projectile that exploded upon impact, blasting three Watchers to smithereens.

That left two.

Irelia dashed swiftly to her next target, Amaterasu arcing through the air, leaving a trail of gold in its wake. In a single, soundless, slash Irelia's blade cut the body of another watcher, searing through sinuous muscle, bone, and tendon. Even the barren tree behind the man endured Irelia's harsh punishment, as it was severed in half by the sword. All that remained of the tree was a smouldering stump.

Irelia would lament its sacrifice later.

The swordmaiden paced slowly towards the fifth watcher of this stray group, her legendary sword at her side. Knowing the fate about to befall him, the fearful man fell in cowardice, pushing himself back through the snow with his gun held across his torso. He pleaded with Irelia, begging her to stay away.

The swordmaiden ignored him. "This is not my doing. Blame your blinded masters."

The watcher fumbled, raising his gun. Irelia flicked her wrist. Without a second thought, the watcher pulled on the trigger. But nothing happened. He pulled again. And again. Still nothing. Then he looked at his weapon, and his heart stopped. Most of the barrel had been sliced from the rest of the gun. The swordmaiden had cut it so fast the man missed her do it entirely.

"Please, I beg of you, don't kill me," the Black Watch soldier beseeched.

"I'm sorry..." Irelia slipped her katana through the man's ribs. She fixed the rifleman with a steel gaze.

"S-stop—"

"Farewell."

And just like that, Irelia unmoored another soul from this accursed world, sending him off in a fiery burial shroud.

The swordmaiden lifted her head, witnessing the clash between Black Watch, Iris, and Harbingers unfold. Her eyes locked onto one individual in particular—the Uncuttable Oak, or as Kazan dubbed him, "Tree Guy". She observed in awe, impressed by his flawless kata. Though outnumbered, he dodged attacks like flowing water, and he struck back at his opponents with lethal precision, needing only a single strike to kill his targets in a dancing whirlwind of blades. Hassan wielded dual swords—one shimmering like moonlight, the other glowing with ominous darkness. Such skilled bladework was as scarce as hen's teeth.

But of course, Irelia expected nothing less from the Daemon Lord's first Harbinger. It was like every atom of his being was used to this, her words the other night ringing true in some ominous fashion. He truly was someone who knew only war, with each strike being merciless in its delivery, and the blood that fell upon him never being wasted. One soldier by another, the first Harbinger painted the white snow red like the war never ended.

One soldier attempted to shoot his face at point-blank range. It was a fatal mistake, as the stance that the first Harbinger used was a familiar one. It was like the sun and the moon danced lovingly with one another, his body being the manifestation of this union. Twilight arrived, and Hassan’s presence heralded it.

Without even being capable of yelling, the soldier found a deep cut across its chest, only gargling being heard for but a moment as another swing of Hassan’s sword silenced the soldier before he had any chance to suffer any longer.

“Aim steady! He isn’t faster than our bullets!” One brave soul amongst the Black Watch cried out, his words being true. Irelia knew the Harbinger likely the most out of all the companions. Despite his skill, his body was light and any deep wound that came to his being could very well be his last.

Though Hassan couldn’t protect himself from such heavy attacks, he could move and react to them with uncanny precision. His feet found the bark of a tree, quickly running upwards in an instant, bullets hitting only cold snow and wood as he quickly pushed himself off, flying like a snake opening its maws to catch flying prey. In one instant, he was in the air. On the other, blood flowed in the air before more soldiers met their end.

It wasn’t enough, though. Even though he moved and acted just like she remembered, Hassan’s face was painted with worry on it. Not on their odds, but the situation at hand. Even though he only had scratches on his clothes and blood from others in his skin, they couldn’t keep going like this forever.

His eyes, golden much like Amaterasu’s light but fierce as a bolt of lightning, peered at Irelia’s own crimson gaze. With Sertek and Sylvia gone, it became clear he, and perhaps her, were the only sources of logic and authority here.

It was ironic. Once mortal enemies, now working together without a sweat.

“Irelia,” he called out, surprisingly by her name. “Looks like we have a Hydra.”

In Jianki, there was a common war tactic employed by bandits when it came to defeating opponents stronger than them. Utilising extreme violence to rip their foes apart to demoralise troops, they rarely aimed at the soldiers themselves, but rather, their leaders. Because even if they spill the guts of their enemies, so long their leaders stay alive and unflinching, an army would never die. It was often called the ‘hydra’ tactic. Strike not the heads, but the heart.

Memories of how Hassan broke down when Sertek seemingly died came to mind. How he was so quick to give up. Perhaps such barbaric tactics had merit, at the end of the day.

The First Harbinger’s eyes looked at Hellriegel as she stood by a distance. His eyes narrowed as he lifted his blade upwards, cleaning it with his arm. He was quick to speak to the Dawnbringer.

“We have to trust our allies to take care of the soldiers,” His voice was hurried as his eyes quickly moved about the chaos, hand never leaving his swords. “But I don’t think they’ll meet defeat unless we aim for their general.”

Even though his face was serious, there was a hint of some other underlying emotion there. Embarrassment.

Who permitted him to call me by my name? Irelia thought momentarily, her cheeks pinkening slightly, though she did not make an issue of it. Quickly, she returned her attention to the battlefield.

Of those who remained, there was Senna, Odhrán, and the Gecko Harbinger. While she was familiar with the first two, the swordmaiden had never encountered the golemancer herself during the war. Though his reputation precedes him—words spread quickly of his frightening feats. In truth, there was a time when Irelia itched to slay him in battle. Perhaps now, Irelia will finally be able to witness the golemancer in action and see if the rumours are true.

The swordmaiden let her eyes meet with Hassan's.

"A Hydra, you say?" she said. This term was one she had not heard since leaving her homeland, but its meaning remained clear in her mind.

Irelia followed Hassan's gaze to Hellriegel.

"I see..." she performed a customary chiburi, shaking off the blood from her katana. "But if you wish to attack the heart, then Hellriegel is not the one you seek—"

A trio of riflemen was about to interrupt, but Irelia would make quick work of them. Without even looking in their direction, she slashed the air to her side, sending forth a plume of hissing fire that erupted from her sword, devouring the gunners in merciless sun fire.

"As I was saying..." the swordmaiden continued. "Your plan may still prove fruitful, Harbinger. The real puppeteer pulling all the strings has yet to reveal himself. I'm almost certain we'll be able to draw him out if he sees his precious captain backed into a corner. That being said, I'm not fond of the idea of ganging up on Hellriegel like this, but it's the only way, I suppose... How unfortunate for her."

Irelia assumed a stance and readied her blade, preparing to coordinate her attack with Hassan. She was wary of her surroundings, hoping Friedhelm would soon announce himself.

"I'll clear you a path. Spare your strength. Hide in my shadow. Then when the time is right, unleash the fury of your blades upon her."

Unwilling to waste another second, Irelia darted forward in a heartbeat. With the hilt of Amaterasu in both of her hands, she delivered decisive strikes along the line of Black Watch troops, each one perfectly placed to inflict a fatal haemorrhage. She waltzed around the battlefield with the grace of a dancer, dashing arbitrarily between her foes, cutting each of them down one by one, faster than they could react.

One moon ago, she might've told The First Harbinger that all he knew was war. But in reality, she wasn't that much different. To carry the blade, to protect that which she loves, is what she was born and bred to do. She was born a warrior. It is her purpose. It is who she is.

Daughter of The Eye of Dawn; wielder of Amaterasu; She was Irelia Sonan—Dawnbringer of the Oeki.

 

[Huntertabbysandshark3]

Sir Galious meeples
interaction:​

Galious’s confusion at the current situation was swiftly lifted as there band of fugitives where beset by black watch and squarback forces simply dropping out form the sky and surrounding them. And worst of all the where commanded by some cocky youngster whome appeared far too happy for her own good ar least in Galious’s opinion. It didn’t take all too long for all hell to break lose as sertek jumping kicked off the firefight. Galious scampering into the Conestoga before any of there opponents caught sight of him, at least in this case his diminutive stature assisted in this. Upon entering the pocket dimension of the wagon Galious quickly retrieved the modified sentinel armour, large loading claws buzzing to life with an electrical current. Along with a hastily prepared scroll that he‘d stuff inside of the armour. form the sack a tiny army of 10 or so diminu golems followed there master diligently back to the battlefield each glowing blue with the aetheal energies that powered them.

charging outside Galious only to find many of those close to the wagon already cleared by the joint efforts of Hassan and irelai, annoyingly many of the bodies where little more then charred masses completely usless there where however some bleeding out a short distance away with but a single motion the battalion of tiny golems got to work. small enough to be mostly ignored by the black watch forces whom where more focused on the larger threats then the tiny constructs. that began go pull the intact bodies closer together for what purpose only Galious knew. the next few moments became filled with gunfire that struck the sentinels metal hide, turning to face those that dared to strike him without a words he’d charge the five gunners dents begining to be struck into the plating but not before Galious reach them. one was picked up like nothing more then a toy there metal armor conducting the energies the arced across the sentinels clawed arms using the solider as a club to smash the others splintering and shatter the bones of the five in a matter of moments. the golemancer’s silent brutality was a stark contrast to how they acted previously at the church. A similar fate as the first five befell a few more soldiers as Galious carved his own seemingly aimless path of destruction. Not without his own armor taking a beating from the gunfire, for it wasn’t as if Galious was a expert fighter personally like many of the other Harbringers.

The purpose though would soon become apparent the small golems has contiued there take of collecting the bodies diligently leaving Galious’s with a tidy pile of bodies. this was when the scroll came into use Running back to the pile Galious channeled his magical talents through the battered limbs of the sentinel and into the pile, the scroll was something Galious liked to call a “quick golem” the template allowed for the quick production of a golem in the head for combat form whatever loose matierals might be avalible and hellrigel had so graciously gifted the great dragon with his favourite type of resource, the metals upon the bodies glowed brightly with aetheal energies pulling themselves together the organic component simply being used as structure and support for the only truely animated part was the metallic shells the dead where in cases in, discared Weaponry shifting to moving toward the forming limbs and within a few second a vaugly humanoid hulk of the dead formed hands made of weaponry but the bulk of it oozing crimson, for now there former comrads had been turned against them in death. Any of weak will would likely have had an incredibly adverse reaction to the Hulk Galious just laughted. ”if you know what’s best for you… you will stand your ground and die… running would Just make your inevitable deaths.. less heroic” Galious spoke loudly his voice deepened by the modification to the sentienel armor allowing his words to actually carry some menace to them. And with that Galious the his creation loose to wreak havoc on those that might try to come to Hellriegel’s aid, smashing it’s way through formation and stabbing those that stood in its way small arms fire just filling its mass with bullets but hardly stopping the monsters at least for now. “Oooh it’s good to be back.. oh yes“ Galious said as he smiled beneath the helmet of his metallic suit finally he could show them all he wasn’t just an annoying egotistical gecko…

 

[Larry]

Odhrán von Starkenburg
Location: Temp. HQ, Anthem County, Haven.
Mood: Battle-ready.
Mentions: Worthlessplebian | Pilgrim59 | Huntertabbysandshark3
Interactions: n/A.​

Squarebacks hurtled down from the sky, like a swarm of locusts ready to devour the last of a village's wheat during harvest season; unfortunately for the soldiers, they found themselves repelled by the most stalwart of opponents. It was only a few moments before when Odhrán had pledged his support to Hassan, despite the appropriate reservation some within the Company might have about his assuming leadership of the group. Then, with Cpt. Hellriegel's arrival at the head of a platoon, the carnage began in earnest. It took a time for the islander to gather his bearings, keenly aware of his lack of weaponry. Whilst it was satisfactory to use his clones in egressing from Preston's clinic, and using them as decoys when combatting the Vulture in the sewers below Dragonsreach, facing scores of well-armed, well-trained soldiers would provide a completely different challenge for the Aranite. Then, as the battle sought to draw him further into its ambit, a squareback caught sight of him and, loud enough to hear over the fighting, reported: "...confirmed sighting of von Starkenburg, low priority."

Odhrán shrugged at the low estimation given him, but couldn't exactly argue against it.

Recognising that open terrain wasn't conducible to his being effective in the battle, he sought a change of location; an area where his clones could be used at their full effectiveness. The market, sprung the answer to his thoughtful query and he darted off in the direction of the eclectic mix of makeshift-houses and stalls selling wares. A glance from the corner of his eyes intimated the soldier was sparing in having men chase after the former information officer, hailing only one other soldier to join him in the chase. Darting through the treeline, like a hare looking to escape the esurient maw of a fox, the sound of a round being loaded into the IO-Infantry Bayonet caused a shot of even more adrenaline to course through the man's system, a nearby trunk serving as the basis for good protection.

He dived behind the sturdy oak, as shots rang out; the sound reverberated as the bullets lodged themselves in the, thankfully, sturdy trunk. Knowing that the time to reload would grant a few precious seconds, Odhrán, through the grozium shard implanted at the centre of his watch, intended to manifest two clones. He knew full well that the soldiers would soon deduce which was the real version, because the clones would leave no physical imprint of their footprints in the snow. But the confusion, even if it be only for an instance, could be crucial. Backing himself, the thrum of the grozium and the emittance of its signature cyan glow issued forth two clones, folding out from Odhrán's person. Then, as a thought ran from the original to the copies, the three dashed, with the clones each pounding across the snow at a 45° angle to the original.

As expected, the soldiers stayed their rifles.

"What should we do, sir?" the younger soldier asked the elder.

"We'll take our time, Starkenburg's not going to abandon his companion but he doesn't have the capacity to fight against us openly either: keep your head on a swivel."

The islander arrived at the market, wearied, exhaustion evicting rapid breaths from his mouth. The crowd had noticeably thinned compared to when he had arrived with Caenis, Hassan and Preston, perhaps due to the sounds of battle being waged further away in the forest. Even though the idea of potentially using these salesman, customers and yurt-owners as moving props was odious to him, if he could render these soldiers unconscious and strip them of their armaments, it would be worth it. Now, time was given over to think of contingencies.

Or it would have been, had not one soldier made their way conspicuously into view, assuring the shoppers that his presence was no cause for concern.

Odhrán ducked in behind an empty stall with the squareback advancing down a row of stalls, stowing away his rifle in favour of his .45 ACP revolver. Forming another clone, he waited for the moment where there was a break in the crowd.

Then, he seized it.

The clone dashed out from behind the stall, still in a crouching position as it assumed a full-blown pace; this caused the soldier to yell, "Cease, stop!" only to realise it had no effect. Somewhat reticent about shooting the Iris Companion, the squareback soon began to run after the facsimile, the remnants of the crowd being pushed to the side if they were in his path. Odhrán, glad that his plan seemed to work out so swimmingly, then made his way to left-hand side of the stall, peeking just to see where the soldier was; and, having gauged it properly, steadied himself, then burst out from the cover an outstretched leg, which caused the soldier to trip and careen into the snow-matted surface. The islander then quickly leaped onto the man's back, grabbing and pulling his handgun-gripped hand into a hammerlock position, applying enough pressure that the soldier eventually relinquished his grasp of the weapon.

"Forgive me for this, soldier," he muttered, before striking the soldier's temple with the revolver, unconsciousness seizing him immediately.

The loading of a cartridge, immediately behind him, effaced any semblance of comfort gained from this knockout.

"Easy now, Odhrán," the voice rang out, the tone being that off a gruff, somewhat brusque individual, "There's no reason for this to end in bloodshed."

The silence of the once-bustling market was instead by the inexorable tension that existed between the two men.

Odhrán quickly shifted positions into a kneeling one, manipulating the unconscious squareback's body as though it were a shield, his knee pressed into the latter's back, his left hand gripping his shoulder whilst the revolved was mounted on the other.

"My comrades have shown little proclivity for clemency at the moment," he stated, a grit plastered about his voice, "You'll find that being hunted down like dogs, chased out of a city that once lauded you as heroes, will engender such an attitude."

The islander blinked, his grip on the soldier's shoulder's tensing and that of his finger on the trigger taut.

"Orders are orders, even you-!"

The sound of footsteps racing towards him from behind thrusted the man's attention in that direction, only to realise that it was Odhrán's clones that been used as decoys earlier. This momentary glimpsing away was all it took for the squareback to realise his mistake, when the feeling of cold steel was pressed upwards at his throat, with a grave, almost uncannily vicious glint in the islander's eye glaring at him.

A few moments go by and the elder soldier is left in a hump on the grand, Odhrán stripping cartridges from the two of them, wrapping a bandolier around his person, chock-full of ammunition. If nothing else, the spare revolver could be given to anybody who needed it. Taking a deep breath, for what felt like the first time since the fighting occurred, Odhrán steeled himself, tired as he was.

"Time to get back to the others."

 

[ElenaIsCool]

Bisila Nzo

The Conestoga, Anthem County, Haven



Bisila's expression didn't change at all once the person looked confused, as if expecting it which in all honesty she was. She didn't always manage to get an Birdwatcher or an associate at the first try. Her smile grew a bit at the stranger's offer to help and nodded. If she wasn't going to get an owl here, why not have others do it for her? She doubted she'd get the peace to try again anyways, correcting the drink for just some tea.

"Arman huh? Ain't ya a gentleman! Hard to come around those these days. People are pretty tense- Ooh thank you!"

The Trickster took a few peanuts and popped them in her mouth, her apetite loss from seeing the Arachida currently in the backburner. She wore an almost innocent smile as she answered the questions

"Well..I like them. Magestic, more than the eagle or the hawk in my opinion. I used to know someone who raised them way back. Never know when a little bird-knowledge would come in handy. Like today"

Bisi paused to take a sip of her newly arrived tea. It wasn't green tea but it was tea, her fault for not elaborating.

"A friend of mine almost got their eyes pecked out by a raven. And also stole some of their trinkets. It was funny to watch 'em think that someone sent it after them. Thing about having paranoid friends, you know? Ravens are smart birds so with some training, you can send them to do that but this one was just hungry"

She chuckled a bit as she recounted the earlier dillema with Galious and the raven, taking a bit to glance at her surroundings as if to look around. She was getting stares. Nothing out of the ordinary there. What wasn't ordinary to see some familliar shapes running towards something, only for Sertek to motion her over. Bisila sighed and stood up, taking a quick sip of her tea before dropping it.

"Damn, right when I made a new friend too..Say, if you ever find a birdwatcher, tell 'em Shiroi needs a few face-sheets yeah? Until we meet again!"

With a wave, Bisila then ran out of the tent to catch up with the others, wondering what made them get in such a hurry

'And I didn't even get to finish the tea'


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

"Oh wow this is really charming. Nice change of scenery"

That was Bisila's first comment once they arrived at the bloody scene. Her reaction wasn't as extreme or anything, only her kneeling close to the mutilated body and letting out a low whistle. It was pretty obvious what could've possibly happened, with the Hero deciding to take a walk and the body being more than what a normal bear could've done. For her it looked like the Hero had gotten ambushed while out to clear her mind, something Bisi had noted that happened quite a bit, and she had gone a bit overboard on the killing, not even bothering to hide the body. Sighing, the woman stood back up and muttered under her breath

"Then they say we're the ruthless ones..Good going, Angel"

Bisila's head snapped to look over at the Arachnida's sudden outburst with a raised brow, and watched him leave with the other doctor followed. Now, if it were only Preston she would've been on cloud nine but the other one leaving too? Not ideal.

"So no more Caenis reveal jokes for me? Boo. Now I can't be the only one glad that the spider's gone, right?"

She got her response when the aforementioned spider then took care of one of Caenis's clothes in an angry fit, making her eyes widen a bit as she remembered what he did to her the unfortunate time they crossed paths. Bisila had to restrain herself from moving her hand to where the scar began, instead putting her hand on Caenis's shoulder, patting him once in what could be assurance of some sort.

"I'm pretty sure he hates you more than he hates me so good luck with that"

Bisi had to agree with Hassan there, about the whole nobody-running-off thing, not the secret-sharing. But that rule also got disregarded as the girl who had dubbed him Tree-Guy, also ran off. Helpful.

"Secret-sharing time over a cup of tea and biscuits. Looking forward to it"

Another snarky comment. The situation, while not ideal, wasn't one that she could be freaking out over. While she could honestly care less that Sylvia was gone, one less Iris for them, Sertek was already losing it in worry and she didn't like seeing him like that, even if he was an entirely different person now. Everyone that remained didn't really complain being under Hassan's command, something Bisi didn't really have an opinion of as she walked over to the Conestoga to pick up her rifle, waving away whatever worries they might have.

Then it started to snow. One glance up and Bisila didn't waste any time, running into the wagon's hammerspace and over to where her bag of weapons was. Opening it now wouldn't help, instead the Disruptor took the whole bag and ran to the nearest window as she uncovered her rifle and guns, getting ready to join. The window could make some good cover if she leaned down a bit. Hassan and Irelia had taken care of most of those close to the wagon anyways. She aimed high. Trying to shoot the driver of the aircraft seemed like would solve a lot of problems but she couldn't from this range. Better focus on those that were coming from the trees. The White Wolf took in a deep breath as she saw the unfortunate squareback that was currently running toward the fray, their weapon on hand. Easy.

Rifle, ready. Target on sight.

Thing about hitting a moving target was needing to predict where they were going to step into next. They could change destinations, move their head back a bit or do something that might disrupt the Sniper's aim. One would need high enough skill and aim to know how to get a clean kill. Well, Bisi had plenty of those.

The Squareback was one that shot while running and their target didn't seem to be moving much. They wore protective gear on their head, yes but the neck was unprotected. Bisila's mouth contorted into a grin as she pressed the trigger and her target went down and the Disruptor repeated the act a few more times. With each push of the trigger, her grin and excitement becoming more and more, giving away into her chaotic sense of fun. Shot in the leg, then in the head. She heard some shuffling and noises of a machine turning on. She didn't need to check as she had seen Galious come from her scope and covered for him, making sure that those aiming at the gecko got the drop instead. She didn't expect a 'your welcome' or anything. This was her job, afterall

As she reloaded her rifle, seeing a certain aries run past her took the White Wolf by surprise as she looked over to where they had gone

"Hershey?"

Had she just woken up? Did she have the strength to fight? Bisila let out an annoyed groan as she quickly finished reloading, only to look over as the sound of something hitting the wall to see a bullet. Hershey could take care of herself, she thought, although she already did get captured once and was in no probable position to fight. Why was she even worrying? They were the Harbingers agains some normal Black Watch people! While they were outnumbered severely, they had superior skill. Maybe. Stop doubting.

Bisila aimed her rifle to the hidden spots, only to see the barrel of a rifle aiming at her from the trees. She clicked her tongue. A Sniper vs Sniper, huh? She had something rather special for these people. Instead of aiming for the head, she aimed for the barrel of the gun and grinned. She had reloaded her rifle with one of her special toys she had gotten back from the bartender back at the Owl bar. She personally called them 'rainbow packs' due to the different colours but they were all the same thing, albeit with different effects; Groznium bullets. The one she had reloaded her rifle with were red with a blazing effect and any unfortunate soul that could've gotten hit by these was in for a burning.

"Suck on this red tab!"

Before the other sniper could react, Bisila pulled the trigger and the bullet went straight into the barrel and from there, the rifle exploded and took the sniper down. The feeling of excitement, the danger, the thrill. Those feelings she yearns everytime she got into a battle that always made her ecstatic. The White Wolf celebrated with a laugh and decided to focus on the snipers and deal with all of them the same way; let them all taste the anger and bullet of an uncaged wolf

'How I missed this!'​

 

[Pilgrim59]

Cpt. Hellriegel
Anthem County
Shot At: ElenaIsCool Huntertabbysandshark3
Mentioned: N/A

​

The captain scanned and assessed the situation that unfold. Seeing her comrades fall one by one did little to visibly upset her, as was the life expectancy of most in her field of work anyways. But even Hellriegel was somewhat frightened by the might of the Companions when they turned their backs on the Empire. What irked the captain the most regarding the ordeal, however, was that her idolized heroes were conspiring against the state - evident in the way Irelia squared off against the Black Watchers alongside none other than the Harbinger Swordsman himself. Their fluid motion gave off the notion that this was not their first time working together and it will not be the last either.

While her train of thoughts resided upon these trifling matters, Hellriegel was also trying to locate the Daemon Lord that she managed to get the drop upon before he disappeared among the trees. In addition, there was the matter of the missing hero and commander of the Iris Company herself. It was quite odd how quickly the Companions were up on their feet again, despite losing Laure recently. Among their opponent, Hellriegel spotted some odd faces - no doubt the latest augmentation of their coalition's reserve manpower.

A part of Hellriegel wanted the Companions and Harbingers to lay down their weapons. For every lives they took, the worst it would get. There will come a time when Friedhelm's rules of engagement no longer contain the clause "or capture" in it. Then again, Hellriegel herself was not exactly the type to go down without breaking first her blades, then her bones. It was amazing how effective Imperial training could do to an individual's mind. She would play along for now, but if she was given a choice, Hellriegel would rather not tread the unmarked roads. For the time being, she still had her orders to follow.

Having surveyed the ongoing of the battlefield and assessed her moves, Hellriegel finally snatched a rifle and ammunition webbing from a wounded trooper. Slogging through the snow with speed, the captain circled to the south, keeping her profile as small as she could. Throwing her cloak aside, the captain's white silky attire and her pale skin blended into the snow. The Black Watcher took a deep breath and dove into the frigid snow, trading her wellbeing for a stealthy approach. Like a phantom, Hellriegel vanished as soon as she dropped her cloak and dove into the snow. When she was within her desired location, the captain pulled back her rifle's bolt before loading a groza ballista round. She scanned her horizon briefly, studying the foreign gunfire whip cracks and muzzle flash - shifting her form appropriately upon the snow towards the target direction. She adjusted her sight's range, setting her elbow upon the webbing for an elevated arm rest, while lining up her post. The red tracers gave her a distinctive silhouette to action her trigger. A light tug upon the mechanism, and the shot was sent - brushing up Hellriegel's torso with a reciprocating force.

Having pulled the trigger, the captain broke from her concealment and relocated. She brushed herself between the trees, continuing to box the Companions and Harbingers with the rest of Anthem's reinforcements. Hellriegel lined her sights again, this time, at a rogue sentinel that was running amok. Chambering another groza ballista round, Hellriegel let off another shot - this time aimed at the sentinel's shin. Hooking right, she grabbed her trench-magazine and slotted it in place. Bolting her rifle with speed, Hellriegel continuously fired off all of her rounds at the briefly-disabled sentinel - punching holes in Galious' surrogate armor until it could no longer take anymore and simply lay limp. Having exhausted her ammunition, the captain turned her sights towards the Dreamweaver, of whom seemed to have recently recovered from a state of stupor. An easy target, thought Hellriegel, as she charged towards Hershey with her empty rifle in hand. Her deafening shriek prompted Hershey's attention. The latter having little resistance to put up, remained where they were.

"Ahhhhhhh!" Hellriegel yelled.

"Ahhhhhhh!" Hershey responded.

The captain then dropped their weapon by their side, as they finally got on their knee and withdrew a pair of handcuffs. She eyed the squareback in the snow beside Hershey and raised an eyebrow at the dreamweaver. She then laughed her guts off at the frightened Harbinger.

"Finally. A Companion who doesn't try to solve everything by guns and fists on sight. I don't think we've met before. I'm Hellriegel. What's yours?"

"Hershey will not divulge anything." Hershey replied with a haughty and defiant tone. She was somewhat irked that she could not use her abilities on the Black Watcher at the moment. The accompanying matter was that Hershey was at risk of being abducted against her will again. The Aries pondered there and then if this was Fate catching up to her for all of her deeds during the war.

"Ah, Hershey huh? That's a sweet name. Doesn't sound like a Companion name. I'm going to assume that you are a Harbinger." Hellriegel said, finally securing the grozite lock mechanism on Hershey's wrists.

"Wait... Hershey did not mean to reveal her name! How dare you tricked me!" Hershey huffed and puffed in anger, but could not conjure her magic with the grozite cuffs active.

"Yup. Definitely a Harbinger. How do you like it? Imperial technology. Can't break it, can't crack it. Well, technically, you could, but tampering with the grozium blows up both the warden and the convict within vicinity. So please don't do that. Hm. You seem like a pleasant person, of all the Companions and Harbingers I've met so far. Please cooperate. I'll treat ya to some Yujan congee. Might even throw in a DiConti's Happy Meal if you behave!" Hellriegel persuaded Hershey, having detained them.

 

[Worthlessplebian]

The Spider, The Doctor, The Fire

After Preston’s brief break to catch Eryn and Kazan up to speed, he took to the treeline and began moving. Following the tracks and acting as an early warning system in case he detects anything. By Raknos’ hairs, where is she? The arachnid thinks to himself, these tracks appear to go on and on. He is noticing this now, yet strangely, the direction of these prints seem to twist and turn—to return specifically, back to the Conestoga. If Preston realized this, then his fellow hunters would as well. Has she reconciled with her feelings? Or was she forced to return? There appears to be no blood which is a promising sign in Preston’s mind.

Now that they were in a forest, Eryn returned to his cloak-and-hat attire and was now lamenting the seemingly unnecessary nature of their departure from the group. If Sylvia was merely going for a walk and planned to come back, she could have at least left a note or let somebody know. As much as he respected the commander, creating a situation that’d lead to panic within your company didn’t feel very professional to Eryn. Though he could hardly blame her considering recent circumstances.

“If she’s found her way back to the wagon, which I think is likely, we could just go straight back thro-” he paused his speech as the shadows of airships passed overhead.

“...Okay, that’s probably going to be an issue.”

Eyeing the airships in the sky, Kazan took a moment to wonder why this thing kept happening to them. Senna revealing himself to be a traitor, Irelia making an ominous remark, and now airships appearing out of the sky. Why couldn’t fugitive life be easy?

“Well, at least they don't seem to be heading right towards us.”

“I suspect those airships are.…” Preston jumped down, hands balled into fists. “Blackwatch.” Teeth grit, the Spider quickly turned to his comrades. “Conestoga. We need to go back now.” His pace fell into a jogging motion, trudging through the snowy ground. A degree of worry fell over Preston, he hoped they weren’t caught in an ambush—that they had anticipated or prepared for an attack. With the Harbingers and Iris joining forces, they would be formidable foes, but even so, they might not last long.

Eryn looked across, imagining a path perpendicular to the tracks they were following. As the three of them took the shortcut back to where the others would have been, it became apparent to them that they were approaching the outside of an encirclement. It turned out that Preston’s withdrawal from the group and the subsequent pursuits by Eryn and Kazan had been in the trio’s favour. The snow-clad gunslinger saw an opportunity to execute a fun thought experiment he’d once had with his medical colleague, looking over to them. When he’d previously made his estimate of around one minute of remaining battery life in his H2 gauntlets, that was referring to if every tendril was deployed and operating at maximum power. He could extend that to over 10 minutes if he used them efficiently. He looked over to Preston.


“Arachnophobia?”

Preston turned towards his colleague. “Arachnophobia.”

Bust out the tunes.

A dozen squarebacks were patrolling the woods, on the lookout for the missing Companions. Only two had been positively identified, and the Sygis still missing. Truth be told, the men weren’t expecting to find anything in this part of the woods, but orders were orders.

They were on their last sweep of the area, impatiently waiting for this job to be finished so they could join their compatriots when suddenly-

Thwip, Thwip

One of the squarebacks was struck and stuck with webbing from a certain spider, he yanked the soldier over, then spin kicked him to Eryn, still holding onto him with the webbing. Arachnophobia - a move made by Eryn and Preston’s teamwork utilizing Eryn’s tendrils and Preston’s webs to instantly knock out, at best, or kill, at worst, a single opponent. As the soldier reached Eryn, they were ensnared by a tendril from his gauntlet and thrown up. The tendril grasped them again, and a combined pull from both medics slammed the soldier into the ground. It was Eryn’s turn to snag the next target, pulling in another trooper from the group and sending them to Preston. They’d repeat this over and over, staying out of sight as they moved between treetops, until all twelve lay incapacitated before them. They’d been dispatched in under a minute.

Emerging from the tree which she had been hiding behind, Kazan took a moment to appreciate the team combo.

“You couldn’t have saved any for me?”

“Oh, no, no. Don’t worry… There will be more.” The Spider chimed.

They reached the clearing where the Conestoga was ambushed. The duo of Irelia and Hassan have engaged Hellriegel while the rest dealt with the squarebacks. Preston turned towards Eryn and Kazan, sending a nod to engage. “Firefly in two!” Preston said as he created a sling out of twin trees; he leaned backwards and shot himself in the air. The meaning of two to Kazan would be clear: he will dispatch two enemies and the third would be the roasted meat. From the air, Preston managed to survey a good chunk of the battlefield…. This was a mess. He also spotted a group of three that were closing in; a little squad. On the apex of his airtime, Preston somersaulted and came crashing down like a missile. He extended his hands and shot webs in front of a squareback. Confused, the squareback turned to face the sky, lifting his hand to block the rays of sun. “Oh shi..” His words were cut short as three chitinous spikes pierced his torso, spraying guts and blood on the snow. Preston quickly tucked his legs and kicked them forward as he pulled the squareback towards him. His torso was pulverised into mincemeat: lungs, heart, intestines were splattered across the immaculate snow, his head rolled backwards. His two comrades with rifles didn’t even get the chance to lift them up before Preston slit one’s throat. The next would be impaled thrice and hoisted into the air. “KAZAN!” Preston shouted.

“Already on it!”

Even before Preston called out, a fireball was forming in her hand, swirling like a tornado. And as Preston tossed the third into the air, she let it out. The fireball wasn’t a direct hit however- It merely caught the squareback in the shoulder.

But that was all it took to set him alight.

The blood-curdling scream of the soldier was cut short as he was hurled into another formation of misled martyrs who seek the death of this coterie of traitors, vagabonds, and enemies of State. I imagine those who signed up for this task must be regretting this ordeal. The Spider thought to himself. Amused.

Eryn had procured a second revolver from one of the soldiers that had been knocked out in the forest, and looked further ahead across the clearing.

“I caught a glimpse of blue tracer rounds being fired earlier, I think. It was pretty far away. Between Irelia’s eye-drawing moves and that odd flesh golem walking around, Fireteam should let me confirm magitek firearms if I keep an eye out while harassing pockets of troops up ahead. Kazan, if you would?”

If we can get our hands on those, and on their ammo, we’ll have a much easier time after this.

Fireteam was simple. All Eryn had to do was run along his desired path and engage as he saw fit while trusting Kazan to hit the right locations. Just as the other companions often trusted him not to miss and hit them during close-range support, Eryn would trust the pyromancer with the same.

“Alright then, I gotcha. On a side note, what the heck is the golem thing?

Kazan prepared herself, letting her magic travel towards her fingers. It had honestly felt like forever since she had done pyromagery, but she still felt that old, familiar rush. The one that made you feel invincible. Which was a bad thing.

“Let's hope things don't get too heated”

An awful pun, but one she had used many a time.

Eryn turned the lights off on his gauntlets and took off towards where he earlier saw those faint blue flashes. He made sure to stay clear of the bigger groups of troops, who were thankfully more focused on the significant chaos that the other Iris/harbinger members were creating. He was coming up upon a smaller group that hadn’t noticed him yet, but they would momentarily, with Eryn entering this range being the signal to Kazan for her to act.

As Eryn approached the smaller group of soldiers, Kazan let two fireballs come out of her hands, which hit the ground near the soldiers with a loud hiss. She sent out two more, hopefully giving Eryn all the cover he needed.

The snow kicked up from where the fireballs landed in obscuring clouds, coating Eryn as he went through. His attire already blended in pretty well with the current environment, but this helped to dull the red of his hair and the other colours under his flapping cloak. Of course, he still wasn’t invisible, this was just to confuse the enemy as to his location via the numerous snow clouds and to make his silhouette uncertain. A few rapid yet carefully placed shots, along with a yank or two from his gauntlet tendrils, and the group of 4 were down, with the one survivor groaning in pain. He’d been the one to get his femur snapped by a few simultaneous tendrils. He picked up that soldier’s rifle and tossed it a small distance away, making sure to land it in the snow sticking up. A landmark he’d make use of later when collecting things after the battle.
Eryn knelt down to the surviving soldier, keeping a revolver trained on them, but procuring a small item from his pocket.

“I’ll trade you a salista shot if you have a spare uppie.”

A reasonable deal for someone in that soldier’s position, desperate for a painkiller. There wasn’t much of a fuss to it so Eryn easily claimed the stamina booster, pocketing it for later. He’d continue to harass small groups of soldiers like this with Kazan’s help and threw any magitek firearms or grozite ammunition he found amongst them towards the landmark. He looked forward to trading those later, for now covering the few of those items he found in a small layer of snow.

Curiously, he also spotted a black cloak blowing around with nobody nearby to claim it. He lamented the current state of his own cloak, with a bullet hole in its shoulder and part of the hem having been burnt away in the sewer battle. Maybe he could dye this one white later and use it as a replacement. He rolled it up and stuffed it in his bag for now.

While his medical peer rummaged through enemy pockets, Preston began fighting claw-and-foot against the enemy. He leapt over a group of SqBs, his opening move was to disembowel the poor sod who was in front of him, picking up his rifle. Preston then rapidly aimed and pulled the trigger, landing a direct shot on another’s chest. He grabbed the rifle by the end then smacked another soldier across his chin, breaking the mandibular. Two soldiers sent lead towards his way, his eyes and instincts narrowly let him dodge. Before they could chamber another round, Preston pulled one in and let his claws fly, killing the soldier instantly. He then executed a spinning kick to incapacitate the other one.

Kazan was currently heading into more of the woods area, to give herself some distance from the soldiers. Close combat was nice and all, but she preferred to rain firey death from afar.

A nearby squad of Squarebacks patrolled the area, attempting to keep the Companions boxed in. Suddenly, something orange poked through the chest of one of the soldiers , and the other two whipped around, guns trained on the magma cube. And yet, it didn’t matter as suddenly…..

Looking down on the corpses of the three squarebacks, Kazan didn’t know what to feel. Mad at herself? Sad for the men just doing their jobs? In the end, it didn’t matter. Looking at the now battlefield, Kazan let the magma cube float lazily in front of her, as she prepared herself for more.

Eryn was headed back to the other two, noticing a crowd of troops starting to form and approach Preston. It almost looked like he was baiting them into forming said crowd on purpose.

Oh wait, he probably is. Which means…

Eryn reloaded both revolvers then entered a prone position, taking a few shots into the crowd and drawing their attention. As they turned and returned fire, they’d see a figure running across their vision with a rapidly flapping cloak, though were met with confusion when they finally landed their shots and noticed the target wasn’t falling. They realised too late that the figure they were tracking was in fact just the white cloak, now riddled with bullet holes, having been puppeted by a single H2 tendril.

Finally, Preston thought. His comrades, specifically Eryn, had made a move. In his position, Preston called upon a similar power to when he fought in the sewers, though not as powerful as back then. He stuck a soldier with his webbing but instead of yanking him, Preston pinned his feet to the ground using two balls of webbing then he zigzagged around the group whilst occasionally blinding them with web pellets while the net of their doom grows bigger. In just two cycles of these repeated movements, Preston had incapacitated them with a large net.

Eryn brought his cloak back and joined back up with Preston, inspecting the swiss-cheesed garment. “Man, this is why I don’t like using Placebo too much. I’m sorry my dear, but you’ve reached your aesthetic limit. Back to scarf duty for you.” He refolded the cloak into the rudimentary scarf it’d been earlier around his neck. Curious again, he procured the black cloak he found and put it on. Maybe alternative colours weren’t so bad every once in a while.

Preston folded his arms and gazed at his creation. “I am, frankly, amazed that I managed to create this much webbing. Usually, we have a smidge of preparation when we use Placebo.” His head turned towards his peer who is dressed in a spiffy new coat. “That coat seems familiar but it does look good on you.” He laid his thoughts bare.

“I suppose we’ve both created aesthetic marvels today,” he noted, towards the impressive web. “Let’s try meeting up with other companions now, shall we?”

“A fantastic idea, from the looks of it, they might need it.”
​

 

[Remembrance]

Location: Near the Conestoga
Mentions: Pilgrim59
Eliam secluded himself in a temporary room in the Conestoga. He opted to stray away from the pack of people who had rushed after Sylvia, with these warriors and companions searching for her, there was no need for him to participate. For what it was worth, he didn’t spend the time he had in vain, midday was the perfect time to pray. The sun, the realm of light, stood center in the sky; dominating the landscape. Its power radiated and condensed into his mortal shell, a feeling that could not be beaten.

He prayed slowly, wanting to give his ultimate thanks to the All-Maker through this devotion and usage of time. Halfway through his prostrations, he felt a disturbance outside and heard an accompanying yell.

Eliam stepped out of the Conestoga, wrenching open the doors and placing his bare feet upon the melting snow. He observed the surroundings, spotting a struggle between two unknown women despite one being vaguely recognizable. “Ah, one of the companions,” Eliam thought to himself. She was a small girl, it was no wonder he had yet to fully place her in his eyes.

The struggle between the two had quickly ended, the companion being contained within a pair of handcuffs that suppressed her power. Eliam laughed at the idea, wondering how successful the bondage would be on a disabled person instead of an able-bodied one.

“You do know it is improper to arrest one without first listing their charges…” Eliam would have crossed his arms if he had any to begin with. “No wonder the lands here require cleaning up.”

The patriarch moved forward three paces before digging his toes into the wet dirt, planting himself firmly on the ground. “To think my prayers would be disrupted by this awful commotion; it appears I will have to substitute my devotion with a sacrifice.” Aether rushed from his veins down to his legs, spreading forth into the ground under him, reaching harder surfaces and stone. He clenched his toes harder, springing forth two columns of stone on both sides of his body. The columns bent and connected with his arm, joining together in an unholy union of nature and man. As he solidified his arms, the vessels that held his new appendages broke and shattered, revealing the delicately crafted limbs that he had studied for so long to achieve.

Eliam looked up at the sky, feeling the rays of sunlight caress his face. “May the All-Maker bless me so that I may rid these lands of heretics and blasphemers!” With his battle prayer complete, he looked back down and addressed the woman who held the young companion captive. “Have you any last words before I show you your coffin?”

 

[xAlter]

Caenis Vasilias Koimamai
Location: Anthem County
Interactions: Larry
Mentions:

Caenis didn’t know what to think anymore as the Black Watch caught up to them. The captain that approached, Hellriegel, alerted the rest of the squarebacks and Black Watch to their location. The position was compromised; there was no time for running. Fighting was the only way they were going to get out. Through blood and sweat, they would have to survive. He heard Sertek’s cry for the Angel of Verdan, saw him rush off and the gunfire opened. Hell broke loose at that moment, unleashing chaos to the world.

The sounds of chaos.

The zings and pings of rounds ricocheting off trees, the crack of the sound barrier-breaking, the sound of bullets whizzing through the air. Time seemed to slow down, the world coming to a pause as Caenis’s perception sped up. This was the life he had let go of, the life he had come back to, and the life that would most likely kill him. Instinct took over, muscle memory was his guide.

His rifle spun in his hand, the lever chambering a round into his rifle, Caenis aimed and fired. He didn’t check to see if his shot hit or missed, he was already moving. Of the few Companions left, Caenis ducked and weaved his way through cover towards Odhran. Again and again, he would rechamber a new round, fire the groze bullet into the general direction of the enemy. A shimmer of light appeared as Caenis lobbed knives towards his clones that appeared. The blades were grabbed and the clones ran forth to fight the squarebacks. If they were shot, they didn’t show it.

The clones jumped at the nearest squarebacks, like a pack of wolves hunting their prey. Twin blades stabbed into the unfortunate soldier, and withdrew, already streaking towards the next enemy.

Jumping at a nearby branch, Caenis catapulted himself into some of the lower hanging branches, carefully maneuvering across the snow and ice-covered limbs towards any ally. Here and there, he would pause, aim down and fire at a squareback. His eyes narrowed as one of his clones was about to expire. Pumping aetherium into the clone, he watched as those who surrounded it backed away slowly. “Too slow.” The clone exploded in a blast of golden light. He didn’t care to check the casualties.

Creating another clone, the clone dropped from the tree, landing on a squareback like a landing pad. Using the momentum of the fall, the clone disarmed the unfortunate soldier, stole its weapon, and fired a single shot into its head. It then turned and began firing into the crowd.

Caenis reached his destination. The secretary was tired. If he was to gain the trust of the Companions again, he’d start with the one he was “closest” to. Jumping down from the tree, Caenis followed the same idea his clone used earlier. Landing on the squareback, Caenis propelled him into the ground. A shout drew his ire. “Drop it!” a squareback shouted, but Caenis ignored the order.

A quick gunshot down but the squareback he was standing on out of their misery. Movement caught his eye and as a gunshot rang out, Caenis had already swapped places with the clone behind the soldier. A blade found his throat a moment later. He gurgled pitifully as he painted the snow red.

Reaching Odhran, Caenis took cover behind a tree, and let his rifle hang from the sling. His eyes were twitching and looking everywhere as he controlled the two clones in the fray. Pulling his sidearm from the holster, Caenis checked the cylinder, and saw it was indeed loaded. Grabbing the revolver in one hand, and rifle in the other, he swung around his cover and fired shot after shot into the distance Before resuming his place behind cover. “We’re either leaving alive together or in a body bag,” he stated simply, once more peeking from around the tree and firing shots off. Flinching back as wood chips hit his face as a bullet hit way too close, he turned to stare at Odhran. “Make your choice.”

 

[Larry]

Odhrán von Starkenburg
Location: Conestoga, Anthem County, Haven.
Mood: Weary...
Mentions: Zariel | Celestial Speck | Huntertabbysandshark3 | Pilgrim59 | Remembrance
Interactions: xAlter ​

"It's fortunate for you that it's me who came across you," was the wry answer to Caenis' estimation of their survival, intervaled by rapid breaths, "If it happened to be one of the others, I might have worried for you."

However, the situation was still quite active, despite the dance of death that Irelia & Hassan wrought between themselves, alongside the macabre machinations of Galious, smiting the forces under Hellriegel with the manipulated, as though on a string, corpses of their comrades. Friedhelm's bubbly lieutenant had decided to join the fray, and in light of the havoc that the salamandrian was causing, felt fit to render his creation inept, firing round after round at the fleshy golem until it sunk to its knees with its master in tow. But, in the consternation that the arrival of squarebacks caused, it came to Odhrán's attention that the comatic Harbinger, Hershey, unconscious since the incident in the sewers beneath Dragonsreach, had awoken from that selfsame slumber. Unfortunately, she was then beset by Hellriegel, quipping as was her wont. Without much fuss, and with the clinking of a pair of handcuffs retrieved, the Aries was put out of commission, despite her shrill protestations in response to the lieutenant's questions. Their chances of escaping this encounter, with Sylvia was unaccounted for, notwithstanding Preston, Eryn and Kazan's absence, would be further slimmed down if Galious was to find himself at Hellriegel's mercy. Yet, they were not without means of remedy; the priest, Eliam, emerging from the Conestoga and noting the state that Hershey found herself in, boldly stepped forth to clash with the captain.

He needed to be supported.

That's where we come in, Odhrán thought to himself, glancing over at Caenis, the sound of bullets whizzing through the air towards them.

"We have to try and help Hershey," he exhorted, his hand firmly gripping the looted pistol he bore, "Eliam can't take Hellriegel by himself, and if he's defeated, nothing will stop her from dealing with Galious."

A particularly accurate shot sped through the air, sighing as it went, which caused the islander to cleave to the trunk of the tree even more clingily.

"SO THAT'S WHY...so that's why we need to hurry: we can still effect the situation if we're quick."

Taking a breath, he then proceeded to lay out his plan for over-turning their deteriorating position, beginning: "We'll need your clones Caenis, and preferably a good few of them, interspersed at key intervals amongst the vast majority of the squarebacks. Then, I'll need you to use as much Aetherium as you could possibly muster, to trigger a devastating Therion Supernova; whether you choose to use it as a means to blind the soldiers or kill them, that's up to you. I can make my over to Hellriegel, to help Eliam as much as I possibly can whilst stalling for time until Galious fixes up one of his golems."

Odhrán, intent on this plan of action, then laid the pilfered rifle and one bandolier full of ammo in front of his lupine colleague, alongside the other revolver.

"You're already tired, and I can imagine you must be low on ammo, but it's only going to get more difficult from here on out."

 

[Huntertabbysandshark3]

Galious
interaction: Pilgrim59​

Galious was certainly revelling in the massacre his creation caused the macabre golem carving through soldiers as the mass of bodies and armour simply absorbed the small arms fire with little effect of course so distracted was he that Galious failed to notice Hellriegel until the shots struck the sentinel that housed galious so rapid that he‘d not have any time to respond the suit crashing into the snowy ground. Resulting in cursing under the breath of the salamandrian. Even without an operational sentinel the golemancer was still a threat for his creation still rampage through the ranks of the squarebacks most having now gotten wise to the relatively cumbersome movements of the golem keeping out of its swinging range, and beginning to surround The downed sentinel Galious was in. “we have you surrounded drop the golem“ one of the soldiers shouted smugly knowing the golem was too far away to render assistance to its creator. “thanks for lining yourself up fools“ galious mumbled as the golem raised its arms each tipped with the weaponry of the fallen soldiers that comprised its form, each gun firing in sequence hardly accurate but by volume of fire it knocked out the troops surrounding the downed sentinel galious laughing maniacally. “You fool really didn’t think I the great dragon wouldn’t have a plan,” Galious shouted, the fleshy Golem walking over to galious picking up the damaged sentinel and attaching it to its back for now, the army of tiny golems continuing with their duties diligently. Another pile of bodies collected and with a tap form galious, a second mass of metal and flesh became a hulking death walker. “really now I think you should be the ones surrounding, you don’t just fight the great dragon and expect to get away with your life“ galious chuckled as he yelled so in his element the golemancer wasn’t exactly acknowledging anyone else around him. but he did see Hershey was awake and now captured by Hellriegel, he’d let the others deal with the situation, for galious was a sledgehammer in comparison to Hassan and Irelia who were more a scalpel they could deal with that situation he’d deal with the other fools.

 

[Pilgrim59]

COLD TRAIL (ACT I)

Cpt. Hellriegel
Interacted: Remembrance

Hershey

Friedhelm

Serafina II Aurelian​

CLEARING, ANTHEM I
"Read the news, preacher. Please don't tell me I gotta get another set of cuffs for ye too?!" Hellriegel replied with a slight groan. She gave the man a look, studying his torso void of his limbs. "Look, the handicap zone is over there. Get in line." She retorted, pointing towards the supposedly disabled sentinel that Galious was in - the very one she punched a couple of holes in earlier with her rifle. With a quick glance, she retracted her comment with a surprised tone. "We'll get back to that thing later. Probably never. I don't get paid enough for this." As the captain made her remarks with Hershey in her arms, she was met by the zealot's display of his talents. As the latter manifested his arms with controlled aetherium. An odd sight to behold, but nevertheless a magnificent one to say the least. The more concerning matter was that he was getting ready to fight. With their bandages fluttering in the wind, while their eyes piercing through Hellriegel's own, the captain could only abide by their ultimatum. A measure of courtesy, at least. This All-Maker zealot was perhaps the civilized one among the others that she met thus far. But the captain had other plans to enact.

"Yes. Two." The captain replied to her arm-conjuring opponent, as she quickly dashed in the opposite direction. Her steps slogging through the snow with haste, while carrying Hershey in a bridal lift fashion. One step before the other, the Black Watcher conditioned her breaths, with her czapka trying to catch up with her flowing white hair.

"Heavy Weapons Platoon! A little assistance please!?" She yelled at the top of her burning lungs across the forest, diverting the attention of the recently-landed troopers towards her footprints. Rolling out of the woods was a peculiar device strapped onto a metalled pivot, with two wheels brushing its way forward. Situating itself near the edge of the treeline, several squarebacks began to assemble the device with quick speed, mounting an array of green-tipped phallic objects onto the barrel - of which was pointed into the sky. When Hellriegel finally got clear of their line of fire, the crewmen fired.

"You might wanna cover your ears. Here." Hellriegel said, grabbing a squareback helmet and slotting it over Hershey's head. The Dreamweaver could do naught but abide by Hellriegel's action. Rather than trying to sneak into Nova Heights with a helmet that she stole from an unconscious guard, this time she was given one from a Black Watcher. Through the slits, Hershey noticed the captain pinching the eagle upon their cap with purpose. It was only at closer inspection, did she notice the distinctive earplugs that Hellriegel was wearing. The eagle crest that resided upon Hellriegel's czapka made a distinctive click that was reticent enough to only be heard by Hershey within earshot. Even then, there were some other mage-echelon units residing behind the line, that can be seen calibrating their aetherium with a series of holographic runes before them.

An emerald beam of energy shot into the air, before dispersing into an array of interweaving descending projectiles. These emerald snow then burst in the air, just as they were about to hit the ground. An array of magnificent viridian explosions followed in unison - disorienting the Companions and the Harbingers alike by their obnoxious reverbing effects. Even the mightiest of heroes and villains of Grozny, having proved their prowess in battle, or yet to showcase their hidden talents, were forced to succumb to the detrimental reverbing effects that robbed them of their strength. Hellriegel looked on with concerns, as their opposition were finally forced to relinquish their strengths. Pure aetherium, tampered with by the creative and devious minds of Grozny's scholars and mages, was harnessed to create these terrifying weapons. Gone through testing phases, but never deployed on the field before, the 'Banshee', as they called it, was built by the brilliant mind of a certain man from Brecourt. Meant to be used as a suppression system against the Empire's enemies, only now did it truly proved its potentials.

HAVENITE AIRSPACE, ANTHEM
The man that built it watched on from the sky, as their indiscriminate gray eyes glared across the tactical grozite board that stretched out before them. Soon enough, one of their subordinates would dare to utter their name. "Grandmaster! All teams are on the ground. More provincial units are already in Anthem and are arriving on scene now." The Watcher replied, with their salute steadying as the jaded pair of translucent eyes turned over their shoulder with reciprocating inquiry. "And the heavy units?"

"They just left Cambrai. Sir. Accompanied by twenty more regiments from Bussy-Sezzane." The sergeant replied, prompting their superior to take a turn from their view of the reinforced aether-shield. "Hm. Something else, sergeant?" Friedhelm asked.

"One of Her Majesty's Paragons, the Exalted Prudence, requests an audience with you in Troyes, sir." The sergeant replied.

Friedhelm became concerned, even if he did not show it. Of all the powers and trusts that were invested in him by the Empress herself, this was something that threw the Grandmaster off-guard. If Prudence is in Troyes, then that means the Empress is too. This was a task entrusted to him, yet there in Troyes, his master resided. To return from Cromwald, coinciding with their recent lead and current engagement with the Companions and Harbingers. Friedhelm did not take this summon well, for it reeked of ulterior motives. Even if he had spent nearly all of his life beneath the Imperial banner, this was something that he could not make sense of. There must be something that the Harbingers and Companions had that beckoned the Empress to come all this way to witness. While he did not say it, it was pretty clear what such thoughts could lead to. No, he had to be sure if this was the right mindset to be in, Friedhelm cautioned himself.

"Prepare a wyvern, I'll see them myself. Until then, coordinate all units to bring the Companions and Iris in unharmed. I don't care if we take heavy casualties and have to scrape the bottom of Samure's depths for manpower, do not let them die. Got it?" The Grandmaster issued with a heavy tone, eyeing those around him to make sure that those within the room bear witness to what he said and comply.

CLEARING, ANTHEM II
Hershey watched from afar under Hellriegel's supervision, as more reinforcements poured into the battlefield, until there were no more trees to compete with the amount of Imperial soldiers that crowded up the entire area. In the snow, among the dead or wounded, were Black Watch troopers rouding the Companions and Harbingers up for their inevitable sentences. Each member were kept in line, evenly-spaced with grozite cuffs upon their hands and legs. The end of Harbingers and Companions. Hellriegel's solemnly quiet stare spoke volumes of her empathy. Yet, something did not sit right with her. She felt it gnawing at her as if she had done something wrong. Of all the tomfooleries she might have partook in the past, this was the only time that soured her conscience somewhat. She turned towards Hershey, as the latter knew just exactly what Hellriegel's melancholic expressions meant. The captain lifted the helmet from the dreamweaver's head and looked them in their amber optics.

"I got one question that's been bugging me since Dragonsreach. What or who are you looking for. You could have fickled with the economy like Xan or corrupt cities like Karelia. Yet you chose to rally in Dragonsreach. I need to know." Hellriegel asked.

Before she could get her answers, several Drakensreiter attempted to snatch Hershey away, as they marched into the scene without a single announcement.

"Hey! We're on the same side. Why don't you fly boys take it easy huh? She's fragile." Hellriegel protested.

"She's a Harbinger, and we're on orders. That's all you need to know, boot Watcher." The heavily armored trooper claimed, shoving Hellriegel past them. "Fuckin' featherweight. Kurvadias, don't touch our Captain." A Watcher called out.

"Back off, spots!" The Reiter sergeant exclaimed, as Black Watch members began to crowd the scene. "What did you call me, dragon boy? We've been bleeding over the snow, so where in Sertek's ass were you?" The frustrated Watcher roared.

"Alright, enough! Watchers, to your stations!" Hellriegel shouted, winding her voice up to disperse her comrades. "But Captain, they started it!" One of the Watchers remarked, before Hellriegel pulled them by their scarf. "Just. Git. They're not worth our time. Move." Hellriegel persuaded her men, as they returned to ferrying the wounded troops from the field. The Black Watcher eyed Hershey off. The latter followed suit, knowing that resistance is futile, as the Drakensreiters rounded them up among the other Harbingers and Companions.

TROYES, ANTHEM
"Exalted Paragon of Prudence. Havena Aeterna." Friedhelm greeted Prudence with a sharp salute, as the latter simply motioned their hand to dismiss the routine etiquette. A masked individual, whose towering presence surpassed that of Friedhelm's with an ornate armor to embellish their rightfully-earned place as one of the Four Paragons of the Empress. Without a single word, the Paragon showed Friedhelm out of the landing zone and into Troyes where the Empress was idling by upon a hill and beneath a lonely tree.

"Your Majesty." Friedhelm addressed his master and ruler one on knee.

"The world have had enough of heroes and villains, don't you think?" The dark tendrils unveiled a pair of crimson optics that commamded the Grandmaster's obedience without hesitation. Alas, the peculiar question beckoned the curiosity that could very well be deemed foolish should he answer it with a shrouded mind or his silence will speak for him. Ultimately, he could only let his master and liege answer them for him. "Reticence. Then you know what must comes next." She mused, with a coy smile to challenge Friedhelm's resilience.

"I wish I do, Your Majesty, but I truly cannot perceive your intentions." He replied, with his eyes glued towards the ground. His overlord smirked slightly, stretching the corners of her tender lips. "Come, Friedhelm, my dear. Let us see to the end of this grand waltz. Even now, the mere thought makes me shiver with anticipation..." She faced away, towards the end of the thunderous Banshee detonations beyond the woods. It was not the anticipatory sparkles of the emerald thunders that she was expecting, but rather a hue of crimson optics that matched hers. An empty husk no more than what they once represent - now an uncertain lance of lethal promises. Among the mysteries that conspired against the heroes of old and new, there were many more waiting to be exposed. Friedhelm would keep his wit close, for he does not know what to make of this ominous wind that only serves to shroud his judgment. Surely, the Empress did not come all this way from Cromwald for nothing, let alone her peculiar intrigues surrounding the circumstances of Friedhelm's mission. There is something else at play, he just could not see what it was, the same way Sigismund's betrayal had caught him completely off-guard.

 

[Pilgrim59]

COLD TRAIL (ACT II)

Serafina II Aurelian
Anthem​

The ground tremored before grinding to an abrupt halt. The eyes of the legion upon the figure in black and crimson that graced their presence. Squarebacks, Reiters and Watchers alike, pivoting their apex where the master trod, while maintaining their firm posture with their crisp salute revering the Imperial Crest that towered over the crowned sovereign. Behind them were a host of four heavily-armored warriors, wielding a multitude of bizarre arms and scepters that signified their title as none other than the Empress's personal Paragons. The four most powerful retainers that were the instruments of their ruler's might. Where they walked, their magnificent aura commanded the utmost respect and fear from their subjects. Adorning their expressionless headgears, the Paragons' visages were kept to themselves. Their colorful capes trailed their uniformed steps, blessed moonsilks glowing with pulsating aeherium. Their tall presence towered over the average Imperial, almost inhumane in their robust physique. An awe-inspiring and intimidating sight to behold.

While the Paragons kept the troops in line with disciplined gazes, their master, the vessel of the Aurelian legacy, have conjured for themselves a tranquil visage. A pious smile, generous in its delivery as her majestic apparel, of which was glistening with interlaced aetherium between its fine fabric. What commanded the legion's heart, was that of Her Majesty's amaranthine blemishes beneath their crimson eyes. An adverse effect of the frigid breeze against their fair, pale skin. Her delicate lips finally stirred, as she cast her gaze upon her subject. Merely shifting their hip to face the subjects that were at their mercy in the open field, the legion receded their salute and stood at attention. All of this was done with cohesive discipline that was too perfect for the inexperienced eyes to perceive.

Among the Watchers' ranks, Hellriegel was reunited with Friedhelm when the latter broke from their salute and shuffled his way towards her. There were many things Hellriegel wished to inquire Friedhelm, as he had many things he wanted to reveal. But in the presence of their monarch, silence became their prudence. The air was sealed by Her Majesty's appearance, instilling a sense of vigorous inertia. A paradox of the scarlet-eyed matron. No matter how dry their throats were over the recent skirmish, battle-tested Watchers and squarebacks refused to make even a single noise. Such was the measure of the Empress's unspoken authority over her subjects, even if most of them have never seen their monarch in person for most of their life. To be graced by Her Majesty's arrival was an honor that many would have taken with them to the grave as a distinguished chapter of their life.

"Legionnaires. Defenders of the realm. Sons and daughters of Grozny. Fate could have taken you anywhere. From the comforts of your homes, to that of the Daemon Lord's realm. But here you are before me, bleeding for our home and that of our future. All of Grozny is thankful for your sacrifices. Look now to Dragonsreach's assailants, remember them well. When our heroes turn on us, who will defend us but us? Look not to these idols, but to those beside you now. Let this tragedy be a lesson to us all, lest we shed our principles."

The speech began to settle, as the Empress directed her gaze towards the Grandmaster of the Watch. As simple as it was, her voice carried the troopers to their next assignments promptly. Herds of infantry were quickly replaced with the heavier Ritterbruders - the Empire's elite line infantry, augmented with high-quality Solingen blades and magic-resistant equipment. The captives, comprising of former Iris Companions and Harbingers, as well as a peculiar preacher that so happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. In the eyes of the Empire, they were worst than the Daemon Lord. Having been secured by aetherial restraints and placed under the direct watch of the Grandmaster of the Black Watch himself, the prisoners were transported in separate vehicles. Their Frostival was spent far from one another's comfort in solitary confinement, until an appropriate sentence was passed.

After some considerations, the members of the Company and that of the Harbingers were arranged for their final transfer towards Point Blank, a heavily secured prison that exceeded that of Nova Height's accomodating details. Little is known about Point Blank, even by the Black Watchers and their Grandmaster. Overseen by one of the Paragons, the prisoners were taken off the Black Watch's list at Kiel. Outside of their jurisdiction, Friedhelm swallowed his frustrations and took off as soon as the ship left the docks. Hellriegel, of whom had been accompanying him ever since their capture of the Companions and Harbingers, resumed her days at the office in Dragonsreach.

Plagued by the contradicting evidences he had gathered since Dragonsreach, Friedhelm grew restless as he revised the case over and over again until he finally broke down and was forced to remain at home at the behest of his subordinate. Unsatisfied with the answer that the Empress gave him, the Grandmaster would remain home for an entire week, not to recuperate but to try to make peace with his failure to solve the case without the chance to get anything out of the Harbingers or Companions. Wallowing in his self-indulged sense of defeat, the Grandmaster was too ashamed of himself to visit Laure's graves. Relinquishing his duties in shame, Hellriegel would pay visit to Laure's stones in his stead.

ROGUE HEROES FACE JUSTICE!
COMPANIONS & HARBINGERS CAPTURED IN DARING AIRBORNE OPERATION

- Published: DAEGIS 26, 1210 AC -​

Following the collapse of Central District's sewers beneath Saint Keed's Chapel on Daegis 23, 1210 Astorian Calendar, Black Watch investigations unveiled Iris Company plot to terrorize Dragonsreach. This was preceded by a separate, but coordinated incidents at Nova Heights and the Webb Clinic on Daegis 22 and 23 respectively. Aided by remnants of the Daemon Lord's elite Harbinger, their plan almost succeeded when Laure Yrix of Havensreach, heroine of the Empire, thwarted their plans. Following a lethal encounter, Yrix was killed in action. Following an airborne operation of combined Imperial Army, Air Corps and Black Watch Order, orchestrated by Grandmaster Friedhelm of Brecourt, several Companions and Harbingers involved in the bombing of St. Keed's Chapel are finally surrounded and captured in Anthem. Her Imperial Majesty Serafina II arrived on scene to personally oversee the detainment details and thank the troops involved for their courageous display of might against these crafty foes. Sources claimed that the captured belligerents are being transferred to a secret location where they will serve their purpose for life, by the grace of Her Majesty's merciful regards. In other news related to the operation, the Angel of Verdan, the mastermind of the SKC Incident, is still on the loose and is considered to be armed and dangerous. Any citizen with information pertaining to her whereabouts are advised to contact the local authorities. If you see something, say something.

NEED A JOB?​

Find out how you can earn some quick cash anywhere from Daegis 27th to Daegis 30th. The upcoming Daegis 27th marks the 1st anniversary of the end of the nine years long Fourth Daemonic War. See your local garrison office for more information about the Ersatztruppen Programme to get started. Eligible ages are from 15 to 35. For three days, you can earn some rhyns with post-war repairs, maintenance and restoration details! Veterans are encouraged visit your local hospitals for a FREE health check up from 27 to 30 of Daegis, 1210. The Empire thank you for your services.

SPRING OF THE DRAGON FESTIVAL (1211)​

Help out your local community, tend to your ancestors' tomb and prepare for the biggest Spring Festival yet! Many are bringing back the dragon masks trend, believed to be worn by Emperor Jinlong, founder of the Dao Dynasty of Jianki. Legend claims that his mask was made to honor the Great Dragon Pei Er Yi before his ascension of the throne. Others claim that it was a symbolic gesture to signify his will to unify the land and create a new world under the banner of the dragon. 1211 is the Year of the Dragon, based on the Jian zodiac. It is said that the newest fireworks are bigger and flashier this time around, blessed by the radiant lunar alignment. Make sure to bring families, friends and your loved ones to watch it on Yanura 1st!

SUSPECT AT LARGE​

.

Have you seen this person?
Report any suspicious activities to your local authorities.

 

[Pilgrim59]

COLD TRAIL (ACT III)

Hershey
The Pool, Point Blank
Interacted: Larry
Mentioned: Worthlessplebian ElenaIsCool Remembrance Soviet Panda Zariel Celestial Speck Huntertabbysandshark3 Doctor Nope Funnier President xAlter ​

POINT BLANK, UNDISCLOSED REGION
The summer breeze greeted the woman's face, caressing it gently as she found herself adrift within the confines of an emerald pool. Her fair eyes cast upon the distant sky, pondering upon a multitude of reasons as to how she ended up here in paradise. A distinctive orb idled upon the sky, the all-seeing tyrant that was obsessed with intruding upon their subject's welfare. Affectionately named "Overlord", their presence, whether perceived or not, is always felt by those that inhabited the island. Beyond the cordoned tiles that aligned itself along the path towards the lone cottage upon the hill, were a variety of odd poles that situated itself across the open field. One of these devices had a well-illustrated expression on it that resembled none other than the blonde woman, albeit with slight variation. The pole, no matter how badly-drawn it may be, served a greater purpose than simply a perimeter trip-flare. For the last six months in paradise, that very pole reminded her that she was still very much alive and that her time on Grozny was not yet done.

Even if she was given a hospitable accommodation while residing by a pool with a coconut in hand, these superficial matters concerned the aries deeply. Her gaze shifted towards the bracelet upon her hand, of which had attached itself to her flesh as if it was a part of body. The device was glowing with a cyan hue, indicating that it has yet to be tampered with - a souvenir of the Empire. Thanks to her exploit, she was cast adrift here, where all sense of hope seems to forsake her. The bracelet, imbued with aetherium and forged by the Empire's most complex hands, was a reminder of her capacity here as prisoner. Should she tried to forcibly remove it, like she did before, it would only hurts more than it looks. She reminisced the exact event, while feeling her crystallized hand slightly.

Where the immaculate stretch of shores met the tranquil waves over yonder, so did the temperate zephyr from all directions. Of all the corners of the island that Hershey herself had trod, there was not a single place that was not pre-sighted by the ingenious mastermind behind their woes. Even when the dreamweaver attempted to create a faux Crane's Compass, by manipulating the starline veins beneath the earth to study the lay of the land, there was nothing in sight. She even went so far as using a natural Jian-styled compass with some water, but only for it to spiral out of control. Something was terribly off about this island that they were on. That is to say, any attempt to pinpoint their location seemed to fail. Even now, Hershey could not decipher the mystery behind the various floras, contradicting in their native origins, that thrived just as well as their counterparts. Before this, she had contemplated that this prison of theirs was a false reality created by Overlord, but this theory was quickly dismissed when she herself almost drowned by trying to swim her way off the island before a cramp caught her by surprise.

Beneath all these artificial leisure that was she was indulged with, there It was foolish to think that they tried to escape then. All of their schemes, whether conjured forth by the simple minds of simple warriors or that of the strategic minds among them, proved futile. Overlord, while accommodating with the Iris and Harbinger's ridiculous requests, always seemed to have an upper hand that was too flawless to be a humane force. This was proven by the fact that there were neither guards nor any sort of security details upon the island. There was a time when they tried to sail off the island, only for a storm to . All of these acts to keep them within their not-so-natural habitat, disguised as earthly catastrophes or misfortunes. But the dreamweaver would digress, for she was keen on cracking this problem one step at a time. What worried her was her compatriot's morale.

Rather than opposing any sort of authority in sight, there were virtually none for them to. By having their needs fulfilled, it seemed more like paradise than a prison for any sane person. With time, the Empire could easily break anyone they wanted this way. By now, she was certain most would have wanted to stay here forever. Sparing conjugal visits, they were mostly well-provided for - materialistically speaking. Occasionally, Overlord would inspect their shared abode, making sure the place was up to standards and that they would not be able to maintain any sort of materials unseen. Yet, their warden never once showed themselves. Instead, they would send these hollow sentries in their stead. It did not take long for the Companions and Harbingers to try and ambush them, only for their bracelets to react to the sentries' specialized attire that knocked even the mighty-tall Fealca off of their feet. Aside from the routine inspections and seasonal celebrations of sorts, Overlord just happens to leave his subjects upon Point Blank alone for most. In a way, it almost felt as if they were playing God with them. Such arrogance irked Hershey deeply.

It concerned Hershey greatly, for she felt that she was losing this war of the mind. Truly, who ever designed this place was a monster of their own measure, thought the Astrian. Taking a sip out of the coconut in her hand, Hershey sighed softly before turning over to her compatriots. In her amber eyes, the woman was already planning their next attempt of breaking out of this labyrinth. But for the time being, the math will have to be stowed.

"Hey Islander. Entertain Hershey with memories of your home." Hershey said to Odhran, as she finally docked herself by the side of the pool.

 

[Worthlessplebian]

Preston Saytzeff Pacer, Preston of Met Di Plurida
Mentions: Celestial Speck Zariel Doctor Nope Interactions: Pilgrim59 Larry
Location: Point Blank, He will murder.

On the edge of the island, there sat the Spider. For six months, he counted his days. A desperate ploy to resist insanity. In actuality, however, the Spider had already gone half-mad from the pressures. The wounds of his body healed while the wounds of his mind festered. The first three months of this beautiful lie, Preston remained with the group, together they concocted plans from the simple to the elaborate. All of them failed. By month five, Preston imposed self-isolation. Except he was not hiding from Iris or Harbingers. Preston had managed to cordon off a section of the island to himself. His ancestry had granted him the skills necessary to improvise housing for himself; a grand structure of branches, stones, and webbing for him to dwell and to brood.

The water lapped against his chitinous feet, a sensation that he remembers from when they followed the Azken River to the bay. Then he remembers the time that he almost drowned. He cringed at his past self, but at least young Preston had the luxury of Freedom. The sickening feeling of a gilded cage angered Preston deeply. This "Overlord" - a presence which supposedly watched over them. At first, his analytical mind thought that an impossibility but his senses told him otherwise. The miniature hairs in the crevices of his shell twitched every so often. Then the sentries came, a futile effort was launched from the captives. This cemented the presence of the Overlord in Preston's mind. And it revealed the vile nature of these bands. The Spider contrasted his hand against the sun. Every day, he inspected the band. Hoping for an inkling of an idea.

"It has been long enough." Preston stated aloud. Rising from the warm sand, the Spider began to walk. Not walk with his feet but spear-walking. It took him no time at all to reach the pool where Hershey and Odhrán resided. His spears click-clacked on the ground. Soon the Spider towered over Odhrán, blocking his sun with an exaggerated shadow due to the height provided by the spear-limbs. "Hershey, Odhrán." Greeting the two compatriots lazily. "How are you faring? My mind feels agitated and I haven't had a wink of proper sleep in two weeks." His mind trailed to the other compatriots. The Swordsman, Irelia, Eryn and others. How are they doing right now? Ceasing his self-isolation.

 

[Huntertabbysandshark3]

Galious
interaction: (I suppose anyone who wants to talk to gecko)​

For Galious things had gone from annoying to his utter worst nightmare, for a man whose ego was as large as the salamandians coupled with the fact, that he so vehemently belived the gods to be arrayed against him, being trapped in a prison would t be a problem… but the way point-blank kept them… it so quickly got under his skin, kept as animals and puppies to a unknowing unseen godlike being trapped here without agency or a way to rend these invisible esoteric chains was beyond infuriating for Galious.. it was downright maddening he was sure many of the others felt the same. They’d been here for six months… the first-month Galious hadn‘t even noticed the maddening reality of the situation even as he gladly lent his experience to their futile attempts to escape. Fueled by his encounter with the empress her little speech served to give Galious a cruel ambition to smite the woman that had trapped the one so great as himself. Feverishly he’d spent his spare time designed various new machines and golems some with the express purpose of murdering the empress others with the bizarre idea of trapping her in some half-dead state like a monument to Galious’s own triumph… Yet by the second month.. His well of deprived creativity and rage… ran dry.. and so reality hit him like a drake.

in only days did Galious seem to crack under the pressure… of seemingly nothing everything the salamndrian would attribute to overlord somehow spiting him… if I simple angry avian had caused such paranoia in Galious a more then tangible force such as overlord left him incredibly jumpy. screaming accusation at animals and stones, the wrist band of his burning deep as he’d be one to try and regularly assault the Sentinels, and chasing any birds up trees believing them to be spies of deities and overlord..

needless to say by the 6th month galious had become rather proficient with scaling trees and somewhat more fit then he’d been before not that it change his stature not paranoid unclean appearance.. right now the diminutive salamandrian was curled up sobbing quietly to himself.. he was just.. so tired.. of this… the whole thing… and of course sitting just a little distance away… was a bird, a Raven, it’s beak cracked by a previous encounter, the same bird.. “WHAT DO YOU WANT NOW BIRD” galious yelled, but in truth.. there wasn’t any bird it was a mere figment of his imagination haunting the once-great golemancer, now reduced even further to gibbering and sobbing mess.. he’d finally get up sniffing just a little and kicking the dirt up a little… and an actual raven appearing in a tree to watch galious. “… I.. best.. check on the others.. I suppose… maybe get some candy.. yeah..” He mumbled to himself just wandering off towards a random direction as he wasn’t thinking so he‘d possibly bump into someone?

 

[Larry]

Odhrán von Starkenburg
Location: The Pool, Point Blank.
Mood: Relieved.
Mentions: Celestial Speck & Zariel (alluded to).
Interactions: Worthlessplebian | Pilgrim59 | Huntertabbysandshark3 ​

"Thank you for that, Preston," the islander gratefully expressed, his arachnid companion proving to be quite the welcome awning, "I don't know what I would have done if I had to stick it out here much longer."

The respite that the doctor gave Odhrán pause to wonder as to how he let Hershey convinced him to even go out the pool in the first place. It wasn't only his fellow soldiers that had felt fit to laugh at his expense for the oddness of his pale skin, but even his fellow Aranese often wondered as to how it endured the sun with a hint of browning. Even his sojourn, if it could be called such a thing, at Point Blank, amidst the lapping waves upon the beach and the endless expanse of ocean, did little to accrue a tan to his pallid form. Yet, curious as it may be, it wasn't anymore strange than the bond, between Iris and Harbinger, that had been borne out of their shared confinement these past six months. Arriving here, naturally the two groups had done as they did upon escaping from Dragonsreach, which was to form themselves into quarters based on their affiliation: this was done for the first few weeks of their imprisonment. But, as time went on, and the collective boredom and irritation, that they began to feel about their situation spilled into story-telling, amongst other things, so too did the frostiness that characterised the relationship between the two groups begin to thaw.

Even Hershey asking to hear of stories from Aran, was an example of the détente in relations.

For some, it even allowed an easing of the guarded manner they put up around each other in times past.

This scene, one that Odhrán never would have thought possible in the aftermath of Laure's death, had been reality for the past while.

The lived absurdity of it never ceased to amaze him.

"Ah, well, I can understand why you'd have trouble sleeping," Odhrán acknowledged, slipping the well-worn set of glasses onto his nose to bring his friend into clearer view, "I was like that for the first stretch we were here, if the rings around my eyes then were any indication."

The Aranese laughed at the memory, the gaunt look upon his face at the time really affirming that corpse-like nickname he was given. Yet, worry for his family, particularly over the spectre of reprisals by the state, for the sheer fortuity of being related to him, racked his mind relentlessly. Night and day, consternation gripped his features and piloted every neuron that might brave to think about anything else. Yet, as is its wont, time assuages all worries, latent as the anxiety may be that still courses around his mind.

Feeling his dourness to be out of place, the islander turned his gaze towards the Aries, who had so nonchalantly asked for tales from Aran.

"I can't guarantee that they'd be too interesting, Hershey," he explained, his ash-coloured irises latching onto the Harbinger's diminutive form, "Though, if I were to lay it all open, I might as well have an audience..."

Laying that condition out, his eyes scanned the area, only for them to take in the despondent, lurching form of Galious trailing along the beach.

"Galious! I don't suppose you'd be curious about stories from my childhood, by any chance?"