[Open] grim tidings

[Talon]

T A L O N

14 Frost 122

He walked openly in the streets of Gesindelholm unaccompanied except for those people who were closest to him. The skies were dark, as they had been for weeks now. Evening was beginning to roll around and the darkness that enshrouded the sun was creeping across the heavens.

“It’s…” Mathias hesitated. He chewed on his bottom lip. “...it’s like they forgot we even exist.”

He was staring at a nearby building. It was boarded up and there were panels covering the doors. At least, what was left of them. The doorways had their barricades torn apart. Several of the windows were shattered. He thought he could see what looked like the remains of blood splattered across some of the wooden boards. A glance over the structure of the building revealed that there was nothing and no one living inside of it. He did not have to think hard on what had likely happened to the inhabitants of the building. Aoren came to stand next to Mathias, resting a hand upon the young man’s shoulder. Talon watched Mathias carefully.

In the months since accompanying him to the southern kingdom of Solunarium, the young man had been through a great deal. From fighting giant scorpions in the desert sands of Atraxia, to standing beside him as he devised the mechanisms of his own freedom, to training with monks in the Temple of Fallen Skies, he had grown considerably in just a few short months. He was not quite the shaken thief anymore. He was a budding warrior who had seen and fought against a handful of frightening things and managed to come out alive. There was still a great deal he needed to learn but Talon was proud to see that he had grown.

“Why did we come here?” Mathias looked at him. Talon looked around at the nearly abandoned streets. He did not know why the street was practically abandoned. Perhaps the people had evacuated to a place that was more easily protected. Perhaps there were no people to evacuate. He did not know.

“Hope.” He wanted to continue the work that he had begun before he had left Gel’Grandal. It was the same work that had led him to preventing Mathias from stealing a woman’s coin purse that day. It was the same work that had led him to hiding his presence while doing what good work he could in the secrecy of invisibility. Mathias snorted.

“There’s not much of that around here. If you hadn’t noticed.” The young man gestured around them.

“No. But there can be.” The darkness crept further across the skies as the sun dipped lower on the horizon. It would be nightfall soon. Already Talon’s aura was manifesting. It was both a boon and a burden. On the one hand, it would empower those in need of protection by drawing the shadows into the light and rendering them vulnerable. On the other hand, his mere presence was a beacon to more of the shadow spawn that would inevitably seek him out if he allowed his aura to spread too far.

“How?” Mathias looked up at him. It was Aoren who answered.

“You tell us, Mathias. This is your hometown. Where would people with skills like ours be needed most?” Aoren folded his arms over his chest. He was watching Mathias but Talon could feel that his partner was also keeping his senses attuned to the world around them.

Mathias was quiet for a moment before he looked up with a nod.

“I know where we need to go.” Talon watched him. The young man looked at him and then Aoren. Talon simply nodded his head. Aoren did the same. Together the three of them set off deeper into the Northside. Talon did not know what waited for them there but they would soon find out.

[Mirage]

As the party progresses north the destruction lessons somewhat and a few people can be seen peaking out from boarded-up windows and over the lip of rooftops. The quiet is pervasive, growing more oppressive as the coming night extends the shadows further and further out into the streets. The main road cuts a straight path toward the Weisner River, known locally as the Grey River due to the murky grey color of the water that flows from the Industrial center to the northeast. Night swallows day, and as if signaled the creatures begin to emerge from the darkness to accost those who still roamed the streets.

Sounds of combat, bestial snarls, and the hard thumping of leathery wings break the quiet of the night, and once again Northside is thrown into chaos. Few stragglers still remained in the streets, and those that can be seen quickly head farther inward toward Grünwald Park. Faint blue light can be seen between the buildings the closer one draws to the old farmers market, the source a series of makeshift lamposts from which hang metal lanterns that house a soft silvery blue colored dragonshard. The lights draw the attention of the shadow creatures, but the parameter is guarded by large forms that easily stand over 7 feet tall. Inside the parameter, the market stands have been turned into makeshift barricades, and some of the common citizens who did not make it to their homes stay huddled inside ready to wait out the night and hoping to see the day once again.

One beast with the head of a bat and the body of a lizard lunges at one of the Ogres, a big goblinoid with grey skin wearing a tattered dress shirt and vest. One meaty fist smashes into the beast's face, sending it flying into a mostly broken wall where it lay still. With a grunt, the ogre takes a big draw on the cigar held between two fingers before shouting in a voice like gravel.

"Cormag, Frank, get your lazy asses out there! The little shits got started early tonight, and if I see you dragging your feet I'll send you swimming in the bay with lead shoes!" The shout was punctuated with another draw on the cigar, the red light flaring hot as the Ogre looked around at the group that approached. His eyes narrowed as he looked at Aoren and then Talon.

"Did the Imperial Elites send their pigeons for once?" He said, blowing smoke to the side as he pointed the cigar at Aoren, "Those wings work, or do you just like walking?"

.

[Talon]

T A L O N

“Oh for fuck--just once I would like for someone to come up with an actually decent insult.” Aoren pinched the bridge of his nose before folding his arms over his chest to stare at the menacing ogre. Talon arched his eyebrow seeing his partner react to the man. While he would not give the newcomer points for originality in terms of his avian based insult, he was intrigued by the display of brute strength. Being able to down one of the shadow spawn in a single punch was an impressive feat.

“My wings work just fine, Ogre.” Talon could sense some level of animosity coming from his husband. He looked at the bulky Ogre. He had never seen an ogre in person before. He had heard of them but never actually physically seen one. They were not common outside of the Imperium as far as he knew. The sound of footsteps trotting up to them drew his attention briefly.

“I searched the street. There don’t look to be any--shit!” Mathias came to a skidding halt, his eyes going wide as he looked at the towering frame of the ogre in front of them. He visibly paled but managed to keep himself together. The young man swallowed.

“Mr. Skullcrusher.” Mathias looked to him. “We were…uh…we were…”

Talon interjected in order to spare Mathias. This was clearly someone of influence in the slums of the city that he was familiar with.

“We came to help.” Talon stepped forward, hands coming to rest at the small of his back as he closed some of the distance between himself and the Ogre.

“We did not know what the status of the Northside’s situation is. Better to go on foot or cover aerial distance in short bursts than to fly in and make ourselves more obvious.” As to the man’s initial question, Talon provided no direct answer. The status of his and Aoren’s affiliation with the apparatus of the Imperial government was murky at best. There was still business that he needed to conduct here in the empire and he would see to it. For the moment however, there was other work that needed to be done. He touched a hand to his chest, inclining his head slightly.

“Talon.” Raising his head he took a look around at their surroundings. The silence was oppressive. The only sounds that drifted to his ears occasionally were the growls, grunts, and shouts of those caught in a struggle. Whether those sounds were coming from the Northside’s fighters or from the creatures devouring them, he did not know.

[Carina]

"Immy, can you watch my back?"

Carina did not hold typical priorities; one could argue that she never had. Her rifle was slung around her shoulder and loaded, but she was crouched in front of an executive desk, solid wood, far nicer than one would expect for the Northside. At one point, it had been the desk of the leader of a gang, but she did not know who or what gang, and she otherwise did not care but for one purpose: there was a locked drawer in this desk that held permits. With a lock-pick in hand, a softly glowing lumicite around her neck, and her gaze shifted to the aura of the locking mechanism, Carina got to work to the tune of shouts and fighting in the streets around them.

She was not a very good lock-picker, but the benefits of Semblance meant she didn't have to guess if she was getting something right. Smuggling was more her scene, but she couldn't argue with the benefits of expanding her repertoire. A few moments of fiddling and the lock clicked open, revealing the contents of the drawer. Carina grabbed the whole stack of papers within and shoved them roughly into her featherlight bag and clicked her tongue. Her gaze shifted towards Imogen, fighting the horrid beasts of the night, and then to the presence of people in the street on the ground level below them. She stood in front of the window and could see them in the dark.

"I think..." She muttered, though it may have been too quiet for Imogen to hear. She tried to discern if they were friend or foe, but the light of Imogen's flaming sword made it difficult to see out the window. She, however, was perfectly silhouetted, a dark portrait in the second story window. They were close enough that, regardless of the range of Talon's illumination, she could see it, and she could see him. She ducked out of view of the window. There was an ogre, too, and she could hear them yelling just below. Maybe this was his desk.

"I'll be damned, the pigeon prince is here." Without a finger yet on the pulse of the Imperium, and with her two seasons spent in the southern tip of Ecith, she had little frame of reference for what had happened after he had been kidnapped at his wedding. She reached into her bag for a loose pack of cigarettes and held it, unlit, between her fingers, waiting for Imogen to stop killing things so she could light it without wasting a match. "I wonder what he's doing here?"

[Imogen]

"The what is here?" The Ork woman was familiar with the vernacular; it was the common slur for Avialae used in Zaichaer too. But what was a "pigeon prince" meant to be?

The thought might have been a dangerous distraction, but the shadow beasts which had followed the two witches into the abandoned house did not really merit Imogen's full attention. These were runts of whatever obscure penumbral brood was spawning the monsters, hissing and spitting in the light of the Sunsinger's spell-wrought fire. One lunged--more of a feint, actually, but a misjudged feint--and Imogen casually brought the zweihander up from her side to catch it on the chin. The beast spun backwards, a silver scar spreading across the bottom of its head as it writhed and tried to twist back to a navigable stance.

It had been something of a surprise to see the effects of the unnatural eclipse were not confined to Ecith, but at the least the monsters here were somewhat less deadly; a probable byproduct of whatever ley leakage was ravaging that land. The other shadow-beast spat and tried to exploit Imogen's blow, dodging in low and going for her knees. The Ork took one hand off the blade, extending claws which trailed thin arcs of nova-flame, and swatted at the beast. It released an audible yelp and aborted its charge, squirming backwards as her blow nearly missed its eyes.

Before the creature could regain its composure, Imogen's spear materialized in the air between her and it, spitting it in a single, smooth motion. She gave it a spin for good measure, the metal and flames ripping apart the critter's essence before the spear faded back into the armory of her soul. She hardly felt the pang of the rejoining.

Imogen looked around for the other beast, but saw nothing. It might have fled, or it might have succumbed to the spellbreaker flame and been reduced to ash- either way, it was no longer an immediate concern. Without looking, the Ork lifted her sword higher, so Carina could easily light one of her clove cigarettes on it.

The issue dealt with, the witch looked out the window. She squinted through the darkness and the light, and she closed her eyes, rubbing at her face with her left hand. When she reopened her eyes, they were amber, and the pupils were all wrong.

"Hungh. Big, uh, goblin-type guys. And... hold on, isn't that, uh..." Imogen cast her mind back to months ago in Kalzasi, just before all the money she'd bet on the Proving had been stolen by that odious announcer. "The prince-consort of Kalzasi?"

The witch blinked a few times, rubbing her eyes again. She wasn't much for names and faces, but she remembered watching Mr. Maze's fight quite clearly, and that looked just like Aoren.

"I don't know what is going on down there, but maybe we ought to call it quits for tonight. I don't want to be on the same street if they start blowing shit up."

[Leon]

Early eve, 14th of Frost, 122
Location: Vicinity of the Grey River, Gel’Grandal

CREAK

The boat tilted too much to the left. The ogre at the helm quickly turned around and snarled. “Keep it steady, or I’ll send you to the fishes myself.” He ordered.

The other ogre and crew nodded in unison. Each one of them was armed to the teeth. After all, it wasn’t their fault that they took too much time unloading the goods from the ship. Leon sighed and gripped his gun tighter. The crew continued rowing toward the makeshift port they used to smuggle goods from Trashtown. The slightest sound and ripple on the water was enough to send those onboard on high alert. After all, they were on a small boat, exposed from all sides in the middle of the river. Hesitation would be the death of them. They continued steadily until the silhouette of the makeshift port came into view.

“What took you guys so long?” the ogre grunted as he pulled the rope and fastened it on the makeshift dock. “Come on. We ain’t got all night.”

The crew began unloading the crates. Everything that can possibly go wrong will go wrong. It wasn’t one of those shadow beasts or a stray bullet that would be his demise. It was a single rock, a single fucking rock, at the right place and the wrong time. The ogre carrying the small box stepped on the rock and slipped. He grabbed at the nearby wooden rail to break his fall, which was successful on his part. Not so much on the box that he was carrying. The box broke open, familiar blue light escaped the box and fell to the muddy ground. Moonstones, enough to attract the attention of shadow beasts around them.

Everyone froze in their track. It was when the ogre standing furthest from the makeshift port was mauled by the shadow beast that broke their trance.

“TO ARMS!” the ogre capo shouted. The crates were dropped, an ogre or two were snatched. Orders were shouted, swords slashing empty air, and gunshots ringing.

Leon steadied himself and managed to shoot one of the shadow beasts before the boat was rocked by another beast crawling out from the river. He stumbled backwards, and thankfully he didn’t fall overboard. Rummaging through the sacks of items and broken crates, he found the smoke flare that was given by one of his engineer friends.

“Dammit!” He cursed as he pointed the tube upward and pulled the string, and nothing happened. He smacked the tube with his other hand, pointed it upward and pulled the string repeatedly.

WHOOOSH

A cloud of red smoke covered his face as the smoke flare flew higher and higher upwards. “Please see it, please see it.” He muttered under his breath. He hoped that those in the market or anyone nearby could see their signal and send help.

[Talon]

T A L O N

Talon’s head turned in the direction of the flare that shot up into the sky. The red light illuminated the surrounding area in a crimson glow. He felt his heart begin to beat faster. He could feel both Aoren and Mathias tense beside him. He did not need to be a native to Gel’Grandal to know what that flare meant. It was universal. Someone was in distress and they were calling for desperate aid. It had to be a move of desperation because only a desperate man would release a burning bright flare in the pitch black darkness of the night where the shadow-spawn would be able to follow it. He allowed his ties to the aetherium to flow just freely enough for him to tap into his dominion over the Light. He cast his senses forward and peered through the illumination provided by the burning bright flare. He could see a group that was being felled by the shadow beasts. Most of them were lost already. The grim fate of being dragged into the darkness or being ripped apart by it plain for him to see. There was one person however, who was staring at the flare. Nearby, Talon could see the faint glow of moonstones scattered across the ground.

“Shadow spawn. High numbers. Casualties. Moonstone cargo.” He reverted to Synskrit, his native tongue coming naturally to him when he was assessing a situation. Already he was readying himself for a fight. Mathias stepped up, to his side. Through the dim light in the area, Talon could see his squire through his domain aided sight. The young man was tense but not from fear. Well, perhaps a small touch of fear but in the set of his shoulders and the angle of his body, he could see that Mathias was simply waiting for him to take the lead. Aoren flexed his wings. Mathias spoke, also in Synskrit.

“Survivors?” Talon turned his attention more fully onto the one living person he could see.

“One.” His focus then went to the moonstones. Such a large cargo could assist the residents of the Northside. “Secure the stones. Save who you can.”

Aoren stepped forward. Talon could feel his husband gathering his powers to him. Most pointedly, he could feel the presence of a new power in him. That power resonated with Aoren on a level that astounded him. It called to his partner’s soul. On that same token however, that power made him feel…unsettled. They had not discussed much about what the consequence of the Eclipse and the appearance of the Dark Marks on all of his Emblem gifted followers meant. Talon could feel that power entwining itself inside of Aoren deeper. Mathias readied himself.

Talon watched. He saw the shadow spawn close in. He raised his hand. The shadow beasts leapt toward the surviving man. Talon waved his hand forward.

Both Aoren and Mathias invoked the powers of Traversion. Both of them blinked simultaneously, eyes locked on the fading signal flare. Talon looked at the ogre.

“A moment, Mr. Skullcrusher.” He inclined his head before taking a few steps looking up into the skies. Talon extended his wings, lifting himself into the air he flew in the direction where the flare had come from. As he ascended higher, Talon kept himself aloft so that he could watch the skirmish unfold. Aoren it seemed had teleported into position, blocking the shadow beast's attack on the surviving man. Aoren was handling himself skillfully, as was to be expected from one of the most lethal men that he knew. His husband was using a combination of his Reaving swords enmeshed with what appeared to be elemental fire crystal. Rather than releasing bursts of flame, the crystal edges of his swords were cutting through the shadow beasts leaving scorched wounds in their wake.

His gaze turned to Mathias. His squire was using a combination of his natural capacity for stealth in conjunction with his grasp on Traversion to both confuse and ambush the shadow beasts. Across his body, various glyphs glowed softly beneath his attire. Talon had not granted him an Emblem of Eminence but in place of it, he had drawn glyphs upon Mathias and imbued those glyphs with the powers of Light, a light that he could tap into in order to make channeling his magic easier.

Looking past the skirmish below, Talon frowned as he saw a group of the shadow beasts making their way toward the area. He loosened some of the tight hold that he had on his own aura. Immediately a soft silver-white glow began rising from his body. Reaching out across the aether flux, Talon took hold of the handful of the shadow beasts scrambling toward the sounds of combat. He raised a hand and with that motion, the half-dozen beasts rose into the air. He made a crushing motion with his fist. With a sickening crunch, each of the beasts was crushed with the force of his Kinetics. With Sculpting, he reshaped their forms into long spikes that encircled his body in a slow orbit. One by one he began throwing each spike into another shadow beast that was in a good position to skewer. Once each spike had been thrown to impale a target, he looked elsewhere. From his vantage point, he could see more of the beasts coming. Quite a few more.

Talon looked back to the ground below. Mathias was assisting the lone survivor that he could see. Aoren had made it to the Moonstones. While Talon did not want to see any loss of life, the resource of importance were the stones that could be distributed to the greater populace. Talon dove down, landing atop one of the beasts that was lunging for his squire. The crunch of a skull being smashed beneath his boot told him everything he needed to know about whether the creature survived. He summoned his blade and whirled, slicing off the arm of another beast. Talon twisted and decapitated another creature. He rolled, plunging his sword through the skull of another. Enacting Blink, he appeared behind another beast and gripped it by the neck immediately unleashing a sliver of the Dawnfire that was his by divine right. Immediately the beast went up in flames, disintegrating in moments. He turned to Mathias and the man his squire had been fighting to help.

“We must not stay here in the open. Grab what Moonstones you can. We need to leave the area.”

[Leon]

Leon realized that he had made a grave mistake as the flare slowly fell. Like moths to the fire, he saw the numbers of ogres and humans decreasing rapidly. Too caught up in what was happening in the area, he almost missed the shadow beast crawling up on the opposite side of the boat. Leon switched his grip on the tube, holding it tight with two hands. He hoped he could cause enough damage or distraction to the creature to grab the gun at his foot.

There it was, the same familiar feeling from his childhood that he tried to suppress. That familiar feeling as his younger self, with arms aching and shaking, held that wooden sword facing his grandfather. He could see the figure of his grandfather unsheathing his sword and rushing at him all those years ago. It was quite similar. The creature leaned back to find proper footing before propelling itself at him. Do they really move this slowly? He thought to himself. He could see the creature’s claws aiming for him and swore that he could feel the hot breath escaping the creature’s mouth and its rows of jagged teeth. That familiar feeling of impending doom when everything around him seemed to slow down.

A flash of light and black wings, and the next thing he knew, the creature was stopped mid-jump. Something or someone had appeared in front of him and blocked the creature. It didn’t take long for the creature to be sliced in half. Leon stood there, stunned. What just happened? It took a few more seconds to realize that he was not dreaming or dead. Someone indeed jumped into the creature’s path and killed it quickly.

Wings, wings, then realization hit him. It should be the Legion. Who else within the Imperium had wings and could easily take down one of those creatures? He tossed aside the tube he was holding and grabbed the gun lying at his feet. Leon checked the gun chamber and made sure it was loaded with dragonshards. Checking his surrounding, he decided to shoot at the creatures farther away, as he didn’t want to shoot his savior mistakenly. Leon bent down to grab another piece of dragonshard cartridge and looked up when he saw another creature lunging at the person fighting in front of him.

“Look out-, “ Leon shouted as he jammed the gun with a cartridge. Another person swooped in from above and landed on the creature’s head, smashing it. The other person fought gracefully and ruthlessly than the other, even to disintegrate the creature.

“Y…yes,” Leon nodded, still amazed by the display of swordsmanship that the person had shown earlier. He quickly grabbed a sack, emptied the content into the ground, and picked up whatever Moonstones he saw lying in the muddy ground. I could still come back for the other supplies in the morning. The Moonstones are what’s more important. He thought to himself as he tied the sack securely. Not wanting to let the glow of the Moonstones attract more of the creatures.

“I’ve got the Moonstones!” he shouted to the others.

[Tailen]

Grim Tidings

Frost 14th, 122nd Year, A.o.S.

He'd seen probably a lot more action and chaos over the past several months, compared to any other point of his life in service to the Empire. Since this began, the shadow monstrosities that had festered had stretched the Imperial forces thin, and Zevern's battle-bred background became more of a necessity than he ever hoped to require.

Tonight though he had spread farther out from his normal routine, after hearing gunfire and other blasts in the streets of the northside. When he'd taken flight to investigate the area, and to see what backup he might provide, flyers of the shadow origin had assailed him. The skies were just as plagued as the streets with these creatures, and Zevern learned fairly quickly that agility could outpace them. Only slightly.

Regardless, with swift beats of his wings to gain momentum, the wolf's flight carried him just enough to where the beasts that tailed him fell for the maneuver. Zevern tucked his wings in close midflight before he pulled himself around, and performed a midturn spiral at the draw of his longsword from the shoulder. With a rough growl, he swung his weapon before him, wings spanned out into another beat before his momentum waned, allowing the few creatures tailing him to meet his blade.

One. Two. Three. He swung again but missed the fourth, as the impish shadows he clipped scattered within the air. Two quickly fell toward the crater below as they dissipated, while the other two scattered to join the swarms that teemed the skies. Too many targets... He cursed to himself with the clench of his jaw, before a light in the skies shone from his backside. His hybrid eyes scoured the area for a source, quick to locate a red flare in the distance. Yet a light source. A beacon for these creatures as they would quickly swarm the location.

Not good! He realized when he felt a few creatures clip him next, and hot pains surged across areas of his body. His wings had been grazed, and the leather padding over his outfit only dulled the rips he felt into the skin of his legs and arms. No vitals were hit yet though, and with another earnest flap in his wings, Zevern went into motion through the sky once more. He was as good as dead if he stayed up in the air for too long, and the creatures were about to cluster at the light source near the docks.

With the flare showing red, that also likely meant civilians were in danger, which meant he needed to get down there stat and provide backup. Gonna have to call on flame. He realized when he heard more shadows flapping all around him. They were behind, they were overhead, they were even under him, but soon they were surging before him. How many would threaten the people below before they got to safety? At the very least, he could provide them with some aerial cover.

Thus with a bright orange flame burning out from his hand, Zevern pulled his weight in to perform the equivalent of a barrel roll. In doing so, the Kathar released a volley of low-grade fireballs to burn at the creatures around him. Finally, he was getting ahead of the swarm, with the boat and docks waiting just below. It looked as though the fight had already begun there, which was not good, considering Zev would be landing on borrowed time. The salvo of fireballs generated short bursts of flames in a cone beneath the Kathar, as he flapped his wings with a pained grit between his teeth.

He finally neared the ground where the makeshift pier was, and noticed the group of fighters keeping the shadows at bay. Clearly they were well-trained, maybe even seasoned warriors, from what he could tell upon first glance. His landing was a rough drop onto his boots when he neared the ground, the soldier still carrying the momentum into a forward charge to hack at a few more shadows. As soon as he drew close to what the group was fighting for, he quickly realized the sudden importance of the lunar stones. The damned shadows must've clipped his off earlier during flight...

Miscalculations aside, he looked from the group to the monsters gradually teeming the area, as the shadows in the sky already swarmed around the flare and embers dying in their midst. "Four." He noticed as he sniffed the air, tracing the scents that he would have to sift through for later. An opportunity to back a whole squad? Now that sounded like something a hound could do. He glanced back down to reach at the pile, gathering as many dragonshards as he could by the handful.

"Allow me to back you up, sirs'!" He enthused with a tuck into his pocket, proceeding to shovel another handful before focusing on the fight once more. There were enemies everywhere and he didn't honestly know where to begin, nevertheless, Zevern kept his gaze steady with a firm determination. After all, he only needed to help escort them someplace safe, while fighting off any more of these monsters that came their way.

"There's no question whether it comes to can or can't, some things you just do."

"Common" "Kathalan"
"Dialogue" Monologue

[Mirage]

The ogre didn't speak immediately, puffing on his cigar as he examined the three men in front of him. His eyes stayed on Mathias a few second longer than either Talon or Aoren, grunting in recognition before turning his attention back to Talon.

"You don't talk like an Imperial." He said bluntly before nodding at Aoren, "That one though smells likes Inquisitors. Not that I give a damn, not right now."

Exhaling a stream of smoke Gresh rubbed his bald head, but just as he was about to speak the flare crossed the sky and drew everyone's attention.

"Thats..." he began, but could get no further before Talon and his group leapt into action.

"Cheaky bastards." Gresh said with a grin before pointing at a passing goblin, "Fetch big mona and the large caster shells. Something tells me we are going to need 'em."

.