a welcome home

[Lutz]

Martial prowess and multiple magical competencies made for a very welcome ally. The shimmer of the shield was marginally more reassuring than un-enchanted bracers, but as kind as the gesture might have been, if the creatures were close enough to him to strike, one or two blows wasn't going to do much of anything. Still, Ludwig inclined his head in thanks as he pulled another arrow from his quiver and, with some fumbling, nocked it ready for another shot. Not much of anything was still better than nothing, after all.

Somewhat separated from the worst of the fray, he took care to keep the more-than-capable winged wall of flesh reaving and skull cleaving force between himself and the ever-encroaching, twisted and malformed creatures that continued to ceaselessly crawl up out of gaping earth. The distance, even with his bowstring taut and sharp eyes searching for a suitable target, allowed him ample time to think free of the heat and sweat and putrid breath and smashing, crashing rocks that had overwhelmed him on his unlikely journey here.

There were five of them in total, though that number was extremely generous considering he was three slim shafts of wood and iron away from becoming more liability than asset, and, from a cursory sweep of the field, a lot of shamblers. Many, many more than, realistically, four people were going to be able to handle. Perhaps if the magical birdman had been a master of his supernatural trade - or especially trades - brute force might have been an option. As it stood, however, even with the others holding their own well enough for the moment, it was clear it wasn't sustainable.

Fortunately, it didn't need to be - or so he hoped.

Difficult to hear over the snarls and shouts of effort to repel them, there came the call for a different plan than the unspoken "maybe if we kill enough of them they'll just stop" tactic already being employed. Close the exit, the man said. The hole in question had only grown wider, more and more malformed bodies scrabbling and scratching their way up to the surface... closing it was much easier said than done, though he gave the man the benefit of the doubt by presuming he - and everyone else - was well aware the unlikely "how" was more the issue than the "what" as he let another arrow fly only to immediately pull another from his quiver.

So, then, what options had they for the "how"?

With just the five of them... nothing he could see. Not unless the other two birdmen came with pleasant surprises like their silver winged brother. Ideally the earth and stone shifting type of surprises. Barring that, there really wasn't anything they could do. There were too many shamblers - even with the benefit of flight, there was nowhere for the three who had the ability to land where they wouldn't immediately be swarmed and, subsequently, torn apart, even with negated barriers.

"I believe," he began, projecting his voice as best he could over the din as he loosed his last arrow into the mess of writhing claws and snapping jaws. "The Legion may have been alerted by now." He didn't add that it was just as likely Tyr had been unable to make it back to their supervising officer to report. It wouldn't matter what they did if there wasn't anyone coming to aid them anyway. Which meant... "And I'll be off to fetch the Skyguard." He could do that much, at least, now that he was left with just a bow and his fists. Guarantee help, even if it might arrive too late. "Don't ehm... die, I guess."

Ordinarily, Legionnaires were expected to be the first into a fight and last to leave, if they ever even got the chance to, but while either of the birds or the bat might have been the faster choice, all three were far more effective keeping the swarm at bay. Barring the other human man as a master of transposition, Ludwig was the next best choice, as he was now little more than moving target for the still-advancing creatures. He didn't bother explaining himself - it was better the others stay focused on what they were doing - and, instead, took a step forward, only rather than the proper distance it should have been his foot landed on a stone outcropping a considerable distance towards the city, leaving the mess of wings and limbs and swords and magic behind him.

"Good luck!" he called over his shoulder. They'd certainly need it.

He dropped his bow, unbuckled his quiver, rolled his shoulders, then broke out into a sprint down the rocky mountainside, lips moving in a silent, steady countdown: fifteen... fourteen... thirteen...

[Hikami]

㊋ 4th of Ash, Year 120, Age of Steel ㊋
Company: Two Avialae, Human male, Rathari male | Theme: Heat Haze Shadow| Thoughts: This is troublesome| Mood: Curious

---

㊋ Despite the efforts of the warriors present, it seemed that there was no end to these abominations. They just keep coming from the opened hole in the ground, and if Hyoga and the other's couldnt impede their advance. As he cut down these shambling creatures, one of the Avialae he saw earlier came to his side, grabbing his attention with a flourish of his blade. What made Xiang take note however was what he did to his swords, setting them ablaze with fire.

It seemed that this one was like himself in terms of the arcane forces he wielded, being a mage of both Reaving and Elementalism. A smirk fixed itself on his face as Xiang followed suit, running his hand along the length of Shimo no Tsume, the aura of black, blue, & grey giving way to flames along the blade of the spear.

Taking to the air Hyoga noticed a unique trait these creatures held, a weakness of sorts. They recoiled at the flames, which sparked an idea in Hyoga. He had to hand it to the feather winged one, that was a useful insight he gained thanks to him. Hyoga put his plan in motion, as if on cue when the feather winged Avialae inquired on his plan.

Hyoga began to circle around the opening, and as he did so, his enflamed spear would grazed the grass. In a matter of moments, the opening was encircled by a ring of flames. The encampment of fire was big enough to corral the creatures within it, and it would allow him to easily pick them off with well-timed swoops, skewering them on his spear with each pass.

He had to be careful as they could easily overpower him, but he figured it would be enough to contain them, long enough for a true plan to be crafted. "This will not hold them forever, but its a start. Let's hope a patrol sees the rising smoke and comes to investigate." he called, swooping into the fiery circle in order to run his spear through as many as he could.

The demons were indeed in fear of the flames, meandering about the blazing circle clawing at Hyoga with each pass. The death wails of these demons, and the symphony of steel tearing into their malformed fleshed filled the space around him. The orchestra of battle was in high swing as Hyoga fought against the horde. The pact weapon, emblazed and radiating its aura within his hands was an instrument of carnage as he cleaved his way through the grotesque bodies.

It was invigorating, as he was able to go all out as he could, letting his raw Avialae brutality take over. Limbs flew this way and that way as he hacked down the mass of them. Though enthralled by this confrontation, Hyoga knew it was only a matter of time before the flames would fail to contain them, he would have to figure out a new strategy in case of that. ㊋

"Common Speech"
"Synskrit Speech"
"Self-Thoughts"

[Talon]

Talon sprinted forward. He brought his sword up in order to thrust it through the chest of one of the monsters darting toward him. He expanded his wings and flapped them in a fierce downward draft while he dislodged his blade. Leaping back out of the way of more of the creatures, Talon landed several feet back. As soon as his boots touched the ground three of the creatures were on him. Talon just barely had enough time to bring up his blade to protect himself. He kicked out, catching one of the shinaegri in the torso. He was thankful for the thickness of the leather of his boot and the armor covered his leg as it clawed at him. He managed to send it veering off course. With his sword he gutted another of the creatures before being forced to catch the third in midair with his kinetics. He was beginning to feel the drain of using both his gifts for telekinesis and the gifting of that small barrier to the Legionnaire. Still, as he cleaved the creature on his sword into halves, crushed the torso of the one floating in midair and finished off the one clambering after him, Talon could tell that his skill had grown. Compared to the incursion from the past winter, he was fairing much better.

Spreading his wings, Talon glided over to the Legionnaire just as the man began shouting his plan. The idea of fetching the Sky Guard was not a bad one. Even Talon could tell that this was not going to be a fight won merely by their small group. This was not some small band of restless monsters. This was a horde of the things. They continued to claw their way out of the hole in the dirt, shrieking and screaming in the face of the small group of defenders that had gathered to impede them.

“Go then! Return swiftly! And here…” Talon removed the signet ring on his right hand. Just as the legionnaire passed him, he reached out to grab the man’s hand. He placed the ring into the legionnaire’s grasp. “Give the ranking officer you find that ring. He will know what it means.”

Talon didn’t bother explaining more. Upon the signet ring was the symbol of House Novalys, the Silver Star of Kalzasi. More than that it was modified slightly to bear Talon’s personal crest, which was that of a dragon in flight with wings spread and the silver star center upon its chest. Talon watched the man dart off briefly after giving him the ring. He had no reason to believe the man would return. He had no reason to believe he wouldn’t either. He sent a silent prayer up to the Masked Queen that she smiled upon them that day. He took a deep breath returning his attention to the field of battle. He would be of no use to his allies dead and death was what would await him if he tried to hold off the growing number of shamblers surging forward. Darting forward, Talon took the air just as the Kathar sent an arc of flames into the field in order to corral the gathering shinaegri. That wouldn’t be enough to hold them back forever. Eventually the sheer madness and bloodlust of their numbers would drive the creatures forward. Talon angled his body so that he could land smoothly. He landed in a slight crouch, getting his balance in order before rising to his full height. He surveyed the three men in front of him silently before striding forward.

“You are both correct.” He addressed the human man and the Kathar as he spoke. His grey eyes passed over both of them for a moment before he eyed his companion. Talon cleaned the edge of his blade so that the gore did not ruin it. He then sheathed his sword. Aoren immediately stepped up to him. His companion reached out, grasping Talon’s chin between his thumb and forefinger so that he could turn Talon’s head this way and that. Aoren’s eyes narrowed at a cut before he stepped back, satisfied with his cursory inspection. The young Novalys gave him a reassuring squeeze of the shoulder.

“Aoren? Are you able to collapse the hole upon them?” Aoren was shaking his head before Talon could even finish the sentence.

“Not by myself. The earth here is enraged, wounded. It would take everything in me to coerce it to move in such a colossal way.” Talon nodded. He looked to the Kathar. The fire continued to hold the horde of shamblers at bay but it would not last much longer.

“And you, warrior? If you have not done it by now, I would guess that it is beyond you as well.” He regarded the human warrior giving him a hopeful look. He touched upon the man’s aether, drawing his aura to the forefront of his vision. It took him only a matter of moments but even at a cursory glance, Talon neither saw nor felt a trace of the elemental prowess in the makeup of the man’s soul. He had seen it be used and felt its presence enough to recognize it in a glance.

“That leaves us with a few options.” Aoren stepped forward as he was speaking. The dark winged warrior raised a hand and fed the fires that raged around them by adding his own. The wall of monsters that had begun creeping forward shrieked. The smell of charred flesh filled the air. It was revolting but Talon pushed down his disgust. Aoren finished Talon’s thought, no doubt sensing a portion of it across their bond.

“You want to collapse part of the tunnel by force using your gifts.” Already Talon could feel the protest rising in Aoren’s chest. Talon gave his companion a hard look.

“The guard are on their way. The Legionnaire went to retrieve them. But by the time they get here, this horde could have scattered and become an even bigger threat. There are people on the edges of the city, people not able to defend themselves like we can. So unless you are all willing to take that chance…?” He eyed each of them. “I do not see any other option.”

“Choose. Either way, I need to concentrate. Our reprieve is at an end.” The shamblers began braving the fires, heedless of their flesh being burnt. Talon opened himself up to the flow of the aether flux. His sight beheld the weft and weave of it. The air around him rippled as he began to gather the flux to him. Whether they chose to follow his lead or went down another route, he would at least be able to pull off a blast that would tear through the horde’s numbers. Aoren grit his teeth, cursed under his breath then took up his stance. He flourished both of his swords, reinforcing the blazing varnish upon them as he stepped in front of Talon, ready to defend him and give him the time he needed to gather the raw power necessary to shatter the rock and stone with brute force.

[Rickter]

A Welcome Home

Ash 4th, 120th Year, A.o.S.

From the looks of things one of the others was going to retreat, more than likely to attempt at bringing back some reinforcements. It was actually quite a good plan in Rickter's mind, as they were certainly well up to their knees in shit at the moment. The several shinaegri he'd been occupied with earlier advanced, the force behind his sweeps no longer strong enough to stagger the ones that remained. The first of the five quickly lunged with an arm lashed out, swiping at him as the warrior barely had time to shirk back away from it. Still, the creature persisted with another swipe as it closed in, its other sharp claw briefly raking across the surface of his chainmail as he pulled another stunt backward. "I'm not gettin' anywhere like this!!" He figured to himself as he quickly swung his blade into an upward arc from his right side, just slightly cutting that first shambler as the rest came around from behind.

That left only one moment to react.

Rickter quickly pulled himself into a hard pivot, getting at least two full circle rotations before he unleashed one last sweep into his enemies. His blade went clean through the torso of the first shambler he hit, and the second one was severely damaged from the impactful blow, that it literally teetered into the others with claws reaching for it's wound. Rickter pulled back to dislodge his weapon as he did so, his breathing almost ragged as he lowered his stance a bit, hanging his sword low with both hands still clutched at the hilt. "Fuck..." He had been overwhelmed earlier, and nearly paid for it with that close call. Yet as the other three behind the injured shambler regained their footing once again, the warrior inhaled deeply before straightening his stance once more.

Letting his left hand falter from the hilt Rickter brought the bastard sword up, resting it over his shoulder as his eyes narrowed on the targets before him. Four of these bastards still lived, one severely injured and the rest, well they were about to surge at him once more. That's fine. The first lunged at him with arms sprawled out, with a nasty roar made as it began to rise in the air. Rickter's instant reaction was to tuck himself back, rolling away so that he avoided the claws when they came down. As the creature landed on all fours, Rickter pushed to get back on his feet as quickly as possible, charging at the targeted shambler as he made a shallower strike from the left, clapping the beast directly along its skull as he carried the momentum onward. The next of shambler was too close for comfort, and with such a minimal window for time, Rickter could only do what he thought was best.

As the creature's claws came forth the warrior brought his sword down from overhead, slamming it hard into the creature as he brought it down with his own weapon. Two down, and the third lunged just as the first did earlier! Rickter tucked his body to the right as he attempted another roll across the gravel, losing track of his surroundings for just a moment as he evaded the lunge entirely. His perception remained challenged but in recovering his stance, he quickly determined where the third had landed afterward. Yet an angry gurgle startled him, warranting Rickter to react with a quick pivot on his left heel to hack at the shambler behind him. It was the one he'd severely wounded earlier, now even more so when his blade clipped across its neck lightly, inducing a lethal cut that the creature surely felt. Bringing his boot up to kick the beast away, the warrior growled and turned once more to move, lashing at the rebounding shambler with another hefty swing from above.

The creature fell to the ground and sluggishly writhed in pain, marking the end of his third target within moments of the shambler's death. Quickly the warrior counted his targets; the First one down by the light hit to the skull, the second from his brutal attack from above, and the third he managed to beat down like the previous; only after narrowly shrugging off the first one that nearly got him earlier. So where was the... Oh. The fifth one came in at just the right moment, as Rickter had only the one chance to thrust his weapon forward, and stab the beast within the belly upon a moment's notice. The creature bellowed and cried out, and with another kick from his boot, toppled over onto its back after being dislodged from his sword. Then came the smell of burning but that was another matter, as Rickter made sure to finish the job by unleashing another hard smackdown of his weapon. Done. With a brief yet sickening chop, the creature's head was lopped from its body, the corpse suddenly writhing as the warrior pulled back once more.

Finally! A moment of reprieve! Rickter took advantage of that moment to check himself, seeing that the chainmail shirt on him had a few cuts across it. Any closer then he would've been seriously injured, or worse, shambler fodder for the rest of the horde. Yet as the others came to approach, the wolf quickly turned to see what transpired during his part of the fight. The rim of the hole held a brilliant blaze now, with the unusual Avialae present doing everything in his power to jab at targets from above. That would only go so far, hell even the fire itself would only help for so long... Yet they had that time to breathe and strategize, something Rickter wasn't going to waste now that he was aware of what the others could do.

Two of them can manipulate elements while one uses force alone. He mentally noted just before the silver winged Avialae inquired of his abilities. "A pretty good observation." The wolf admitted to the Avialae quickly as he looked back to the burning hole, with a stern grimace on his face as the odor permeated the air. I'm barely in the same league as any of these men, He thought to himself just then, clearly aggravated by that fact alone, from the way he clutched the hilt of his sword tighter. I need to fight harder if I'm to keep up. Yet that alone wasn't going to change his prowess, what Rickter lacked in real power he could only make up for in physical might instead. While it looked as though Silverwings had a bodyguard to watch him, Rickter himself only really seemed capable of handling such a role as well.

He couldn't advance on the enemy... and he couldn't cast magic like his allies could. Yet he could still channel aether, and if used tactfully, then maybe they could buy just a bit more time. The wolf quickly began to look around, paying spare effort to slow the high pace of his breathing. He didn't realize it but he was close to sweating, and the surface of his skin felt hot all over. He needed... "Fuck this." He murmured as he released the clutch he had on his bastard sword, calling back the aether within as it dematerialized from his grip. Within moments the warrior undid the remaining clasps to his chainmail, quick to try and remove it as he kept surveying the area. They were within the mountain range were they not? Therefore they didn't need to pool from the earth as mentioned earlier, not if they could find boulders among the crags of the landscape.

"I've an idea," He declared as he still searched, already nearly shivering once the cool air hit his skin. When the chainmail shirt fell onto the ground, Rickter focused and began to alter his form; removing his chainmail gauntlets one at a time while doing so. "if we find a rock large enough to plug..." A grinding noise riveted throughout his muscle mass, as the man began to bulk in size with a few low growls. "Plug the hole, we may buy more time. Or if there's one large enough to send down there, may as well crush some on the way down!" As he finished Rickter's mass had thickened, with an incredible amount of dark hair and black spots coating his body. While his upper body looked packed with muscle, the lower half felt tightly restrained by the greaves and boots he still wore. Leather chafed against his shins and thighs, and he was already uncomfortable from the urgent shift into his Lycan form.

Predatorial eyes were now watching as the creatures began to crawl out, ignoring the fact that the flames burned at their flesh relentlessly. "I've got aether to spare, so if y' need to, use it to your advantage!" He told the silver-winged Avialae as he lingered close, his body shifted low enough to almost be kneeling when he did so. While that meant he wouldn't be able to materialize his weapon, he needed to focus on alleviating the situation however he could. Thus if Silverwings accepted the proposal, Rickter would breathe in deeply, and focus on channeling his aether so that it radiated from his body, surrounding his companion with ambient aether in the process. While it felt physically draining to do so, Rickter knew once he'd be at his limit, the best he'd be able to do is hack and slash with his claws, maybe even bite at them a little if given the opportunity.

Yet even for a shot at limiting the shinaegri numbers, it was worth the risk in his book.

"Every side attacks you when you don't pick sides."

[Hikami]

㊋ 4th of Ash, Year 120, Age of Steel ㊋
Company: Two Avialae, Human male, Rathari male | Theme: Heat Haze Shadow| Thoughts: This is troublesome| Mood: Curious

---

㊋ It seemed Hyoga had bought them some time, which he was thankful for. The Silverwing avialae seemed to have a good guess of the abilities of those present, a brow-raising as Hyoga looked to the ebonwing one with curiosity, watching as he stoked the flames with his own aether.

As the group plotted on how best to handle the situation, Hyoga watched the creatures as they would test their flesh against the flames only to recoil from the searing heat, the smell of putrid flesh wafting into the air around them. Hyoga wasnt much of a plan maker, not saying he couldnt formulate them, but his talents were best suited to killing monsters, it was what he was bred to do since birth.

Opting to leave the planning to them, Hyoga brandished his spear and leaped into the inferno, cleaving down the first group of monsters in his path with a wide arcing swing of Shimo no Tsume. He was almost certain the others would call him reckless, but he was trying to buy them time to plan, evident as more of the creatures came pouring in and the increase in numbers forced them to advance past the flames.

He had to stop them at any cost, and so he took to the sky once again, though one of the abominations was clinging to his wing, which made Hyoga spin about in order to fling the beast off of him. With a screeching shrill the creature was dislodged from Hyoga's wing and was met by his spear as he drove it down and into the ground.

"I need you to be a fence." he whispered, asking the earth with a gift of his aether to protect the others, raising a small barricade of stone in front of them. With that in place, he flew back into the fray of the horde. whatever they decided to do they would need to make up their minds quickly. ㊋

"Common Speech"
"Synskrit Speech"
"Self-Thoughts"

[Talon]

“Zedros is smiling on us, finally.” Aoren blinked at the transformation of the Rathari into his lycan form. He wasn’t unfamiliar with the beastfolk given that many tended to make their home among the forest of the Wildking’s Forge. He had to admit, no matter the Rathari he encountered they tended to impress him either with their martial prowess or simply because of their adaptability to the environment they were in. He gave a nod to the Dragon God of Luck before walking up to the wolf Rathari. He pointed to his partner, his companion. Talon’s brow was furrowed in concentration. His steel grey eyes were open but Aoren knew from experience that he was and was not seeing what was in front of him due to the level of effort involved. So Aoren pressed a gauntleted finger to the wolf’s chest. Then pointed to his partner.

“Keep him safe, wolf.” Aoren looked at the Kathar who charged into the fray, working to diminish the number of shamblers that were beginning to brave the flames. He had to admit, the bat winged Avialae had the right idea. At least for the moment. Aoren turned from both Talon and the Rathari. He brought out both of his swords, the shimmering pact weapons bore various symbols down the blades that reflected the raven winged Avialae’s nature as a warrior and a hunter. He took a deep breath, reached inside of himself and stoked the flames of his passion for battle. He would not merely varnish his swords this time. Calling forth the power of his elementalism, Aoren enmeshed both blades in fire before flourishing them. This would cost him. It would cost him dearly. But if it would buy them the time that they needed, it would be worth it. With one last glance to both the wolf and Talon, Aoren sprung forward extending his wings and joining his Kathar cousin in the fight.

----

Talon quirked a brow as the Rathari transformed in front of him. He gave the man a cursory glance before returning to his concentration. He gathered the threads of the aether flux around him, coiling the flow tightly into an ever growing ball of force. It spun before him as he brought up his hands. His movement were slow, weighted down by the growing force building in the aether flux around and in front of him. The air began to grow heavier as dirt and rocks began being pulled up from the ground only to get yanked into the center focal point of the force ball he was creating. Talon hunkered down low as he felt the soles of his boots begin to slide on the ground. He dug his heels into the dirt, widening his stance so that he could maintain his balance. His forehead began to perspire from the effort of maintaining not just concentration but control of the building force that was coiling in the air before him. As the Rathari offered up his aether to the task, Talon shook his head.

“S-save it. You will need your strength.” He spoke with effort as he worked to maintain a tight hold of the power that was building up around them.

The air rippled several feet in front of Talon as he continued to gather more and more of the force necessary to pull off what he had in mind. A shrieking drew his attention momentarily as a handful of shamblers managed to get past the barrage of blades and fire being unleashed by Aoren, and the stone fence that the other Kathar had pulled up from the ground. The creatures darted forward making a mad dash for the both of them.

“You...you will need to keep them off of me!” Talon felt the growing bubble of force in front of him slip ever so slightly out of his control. A wave of rippling force went out toward both the shamblers ahead of them and both Avialae fighting them. Talon felt a moment of dread as the wave barreled ahead. He felt relief as Aoren shot up into the air to avoid being struck by the ripple of force. Talon hoped the other Avialae was not caught unprepared by the lapse in his focus.

One of the shamblers drew a little too close to the growing bubble of force in front of Talon. He groaned as the pushback created by it crossing the threshold created a feedback that ricocheted over Talon’s body. The Novalys heir grit his teeth. His brow was covered in sweat. His arms were beginning to shake. The shambler that crossed the threshold was immediately crushed by the weight of the force in that area. Talon dropped to one knee, his breathing was beginning to grow labored.

“I cannot hold it for much longer!” He shouted as loudly as he could, hoping that the other heard him. With a final cry of effort, Talon poured just a little bit more of his strength and power into the sphere of force he was creating. The entire bubble was easily the breadth of his entire wingspan at its widest point. Talon felt a trickle of blood drip down from his nose as the strain began to take its toll upon his body. With a monumental effort, he brought his hands back, pulling the sphere of force just a little closer. He tugged on the flow of the aether flux readying himself to send the orb of force blasting across the battlefield and smashing directly into the cave-in so that it would collapse upon the horde crawling up out of it.

“MOVE! NOW!” Talon shouted at the top of his lungs so that the others could move.

1…

2…

3…

With what was left of his strength, Talon shoved the orb of force forward, releasing his hold upon the aether flow and setting the sphere in motion. There was an immediate backlash. The air came rushing in toward the bubble of force at first only to crash into it and billow outwards in a blastwave of rushing wind. Talon felt it slam into him. He was sent hurtling back and, drained as he was, possessed not the strength to catch himself or control his trajectory. He watched as the sphere of power tore across the battlefield, ripping up dirt and rock, shredding through whatever was in its path.

Then it struck the mouth of the cave-in...and the boom was deafening. Rock and stone cracked and imploded as over two-thousand pounds of kinetic force smashed into the cave-in. Dirt and debris were dislodged. Shamblers screeched either in panic or in pain as it collapsed upon them. Talon hoped it would be enough. It had to be. Through the ringing in his ears, Talon thought he heard a distant horn...

[Rickter]

A Welcome Home

Ash 4th, 120th Year, A.o.S.

So long as Rickter kept in mind that he still had the bruising to deal with, then he didn't need to overtly put himself in too much danger. The Shinaegri may have been disgusting in both look and lethality, but that didn't mean he could make up for their slowness with his own power. In this state, Rickter had all the strength he needed, so when the raven-winged Avialae told him to protect Silver-wings, Rickter merely nodded to show that he fully well intended to maintain that role.

And of course, the fact his own aether had been turned down, in a way that was more of a boon than anything, even if that maximized the risk the sole caster would be taking on. Regardless there wasn't any time to linger, much less debate, on the matter at hand; for the Shamblers soon came pouring through the flames. In seeing their numbers struggle to be quelled the wolf breathed deeply, restoring all the channeled aether he began outputting earlier so that he could focus it. Once more... with feeling. As he closed his eyes for a moment, the beast-man stretched out his arm so that he gripped the material air for just a moment. Then through the hair covering his neck, the Rune of Reaving glistened as a teal flourish gleamed down his hand and into the form of his sword once more.

Before he could grip such a weapon with two hands but now? Rickter's sole right hand encased the entire hilt of the weapon, and as Silver-wings reminded him to do; Rickter held his sword forward as though he were about to punish these creatures. "Consider it done." Yet the wave of force that barreled forth from behind him nearly gave cause for a stir, as it was clear to Rickter that this man was giving it his very all. I needn't move too much or too fast, he noted as he started towards the first shambler drawing nearer, just react and cut them all down... The first of the group reached him and with a thrust of its claws, Rickter stepped aside and brought his sword around first from below towards the sky, then a shifted pull back down that led him to cut clean through the Shambler before him. Flesh skewered apart as steam gushed from the split caused by his cleave, as the Shambler went teetering into its death sleep moments after the wolf carved through its chest.

More were coming though and though his sword already felt stained with blood, the wolf brought his arm over from the left to begin cleaving the neck of another Shambler off. A third slipped past his flank and continued after Talon, causing the disturbance in his power as crushed the creature, the backlash sailing past Rickter and knocking the next Shambler to a complete stop. It was actually just luck that it didn't get thrown by the force alone, yet well-timed for Rickter himself to lop off the creature's head as he did with the other one prior. SIlver-wings wasn't doing so good now, and from what Rickter could tell this would only get much worse. With another hectic slash thrown about, Rickter knocked another Shambler onto the ground, and carried the force onward into the torso of another as his blade pierced right into the chest of yet another.

What's that? The wolf looked back as he had heard those words... Move. Now. They couldn't have been any more heeded, and thus did the wolf moved to retreat away from the Shinaegri that closed in. Yet the backlash from what he felt afterward would remain an integral part of his memory for quite some time. At first hand did Rickter feel what real power was capable of, and what a force it became when it surged past him with a thundering sound. The wolf was literally knocked off his feet as he had to catch himself, using his own clawed hands and feet to clutch the ground. I've never seen such destructive power in my life... He admittedly wanted to cover his ears in recognition of that blast, as the horde and earth itself were being shredded apart. Eviscerated by the overwhelming force that gyrated down within the cave-in, and caused another collapse as those that clung to the walls below all bellowed in rage and suffering.

I couldn't even... He could never hope to have pulled that off. What these men... no. They were not just men, they may as well have been fucking gods with that sort of power. And he wasn't ignorant to the fact it took a toll, as Rickter hadn't overlooked the fact Silver-wings now bled from the nasal. To have such power though? Forget being able to pull it off, Rickter wasn't even able to compare to any of these men. As the wolf slowly came to rise onto his feet, he did so reverting back to his Zoan form, with almost a thinly veil of steam radiating from his skin as the muscles decreased in size; and the hairs all over his body receding to that of their natural length.

"Here come the cavalry..." The wolf muttered lowly as he leaned to pick his sword up, mindful of the chasm before them now that the hole had been torn asunder. He wasn't sure of the threat level they were in now, but he deemed the time after the chaos worth spent on his companions. Silver-wings looked to be in rougher shape than the other two, though they certainly looked to have more than their share of taste for battle. Aside from the bruising he'd arrived here with already, Rickter's only real injury was the new bruise around his left bicep, his mind still thankful for the chainmail shirt he'd worn earlier before taking it off. Slowing down now he even felt a shiver rack his spine, as the cool mountain air reminded him of his lack of a natural coat. Thus with a flick of his wrist, the wolf dematerialized his weapon once more to begin putting back on his chainmail shirt.

There's something wrong with me if I can't handle a single job. He noted as he slipped his arm through each of the sleeves. I couldn't keep a single pawn from slipping past me. It doesn't matter the numbers, if I can't keep them all back, then I need to get stronger somehow. He certainly didn't want to be the guy who failed his peers, especially given the fact his newest partner seemed actually decent enough for him to count on. His thought went back to the moment it happened of course, and he quickly wondered what he could've done to divert the problem to begin with. I can't throw fire or air at a target, so I clearly need to find a way to cover range. Clearly he was perplexed by how limited he felt, and clearly not as proud of their 'victory' if they had actually succeeded in plugging the Shinaegri for the time being.

"Every side attacks you when you don't pick sides."

[Lutz]

It was a good thing the Novalys had handed him the ring. He may as well have just handed Lutz a whole letter of recommendation. The good kind of letters packed so full of praise and actual recounted accomplishments it was actually taken into consideration. From the moment he'd burst through the doors of the nearest tavern he could find with the ring held aloft, sweat dripping from his brow and arm still bleeding, the Skyguards he'd known would be drinking there - there was always one or two of them around - flocked to him like the birds they were.

Questions and questions and questions. He'd handed out answers like bread crumbs, tossing out "east"s and "north"s until it was determined he should lead them back. There was no questioning the decisions of the Guard. He was a legionnaire after all.

So he'd buckled down his proverbial bootstraps and headed back with the rest of them, seated uncomfortably behind a beast of a woman upon her beast of a stead. Several of the airborne skyriders joined them as well as one of their mages. The power of nobility paired with urgency. He didn't envy the Novalys who stayed behind, though. There was a good chance he was already dead and no number of impressively trained and even more impressively equipped guardsmen would be able to change that if it had already happened as he figured.

But they were all duty bound to return.

The trip back slower than it would have been had he anything left to spark his worn out magic, but they made good time. Great time if taking longer would have meant they would have arrived on a field swarmed with shamblers and no avilae or human in sight. Instead, it looked like the four of them had it under control. They were worse for wear. They were tired and wounded and one of them was a dog now, but they were still alive which was much better than Lutz had been expecting.

He half-hopped and half-tumbled off of his perch atop the horse a half-second before it and its woman rider charged into what was left of the fray. Their battlemage proved to be of the elemental persuasion, and began to aid the others in sealing the breach with her own magic. As for the rest of the mounted company, they, like his riding companion, descended with various roars and shouts and other loud noises to scare away any minor, niggling fears. They - the ones with minds that could string together a sentence - were still outnumbered by a good amount, but in terms of force, Lutz figured the chips fell in favor of the men and women with expensive suits of armor and well-worn but carefully maintained weapons.

He'd been loaned a new bow and quiver, so he put it to use.

Far enough back there wasn't much danger of him being directly engaged, he fired off shot after shot, careful not to aim anywhere too close to the others in the melee. He was fatigued, sore-but-bandaged-up, and wasn't the world's greatest shot on a good day. He wasn't taking any risks with friendly fire.

The ring had been passed to the company's hakumo. It was something Lutz didn't want to be responsible for at all. He wasn't a noble but he knew more than enough about them to understand it was always better not to be the one holding on to anything they owned. His status as a Legionnaire gave him a little bit of wiggle room: there wasn't a whole lot farther he could fall. But... that didn't mean he couldn't fall further. Better to be safe than sorry.

[Hikami]

[

㊋ 4th of Ash, Year 120, Age of Steel ㊋
Company: Two Avialae, Human male, Rathari male | Theme: Heat Haze Shadow| Thoughts: This is troublesome| Mood: Curious

---

㊋ Within the flaming confines of the fray, Hyoga was cleaving down one creature after another. It was a survival bout against innumerable odds. He had to thin as many of them as he could in order to make things easier for the others.

Amidst the quarrel, two shambling demons latched onto his wings. Infuriated he took to the sky, trying to force them off with one aerial maneuver after the next, the screeching bastards becoming persistent and not wanting to let go. He had no choice but to fly low to the ground and grind them off, but this allowed him to shake the other one from his other wing upon his ascent. With an upward spin, the shambling thing plummeted back to the ground.

By that moment, he could hear the yell of the pale Avialae and then came the deafening blast of........force? Hyoga was surely curious about the nature of that blast, not knowing if it was some sort of magic or enchantment? Whatever the case of it was, it seemed to have worked. The hole had closed on itself, and the impending march of the creatures ceased.

Coming to land a few feet next to the others, Hyoga saw, and heard the warcries of the reinforcements that had arrived. He'd let them clean up the stragglers as they had already done most of the work for them. "Not a bad first day for an arrival into the city." he mused to his self, dematerializing his spear.

It was the more grueling part of being a reaver, feeling everything your weapon felt, but it was a bond between him and Hellfang no one else would understand, seeing and feeling battle through its metaphorical eyes. It caused him to drop to one knee, that along with his fatigue. ㊋

"Common Speech"
"Synskrit Speech"
"Self-Thoughts"

[Talon]

Talon was shaking as he worked to pick himself up from the ground. He pulled himself up grabbing a hold of the trunk of a nearby tree for support. He stumbled as he struggled to keep himself upright. He did not have to struggle for long. The sound of wings catching the wind and the familiar sense of a well known presence soon wrapped around his consciousness. He looked up just as he was wiping sweat from his eyes as Aoren landed beside him. The raven winged Avialae dismissed one of his swords. The tightening of his jaw and flexing of his hand as he clenched it into a fist was the only outward sign of the cost of banishing his blade. Talon reached for his companion and the help he needed was given readily. As the two of them walked forward to observe the devastation, the ringing in Talon’s ears died down. He heard the war cries of soldiers and felt relief as the sight of Sky Guard became evident.

“Thank the gods. I do not think I could do that again.” Talon gave a breathy laugh even as he worked to settle his pulse.

“My lord!” He raised his head as he was hailed. An armored Avialae with the wings of an osprey landed. A quick glance on his armor told Talon he bore the rank of hatokomon. The man made his way over to Talon and Aoren extending the ring that he had imparted to the legionnaire. Talon accepted it, placing it back upon his finger.

“We came as soon as we were able, my lord.” Talon nodded.

“Thank you, Ser.” The man did not waste any time with pleasantries or formalities. He bowed his head, drew his weapons and darted into the fray with the rest of the soldiers. As Talon surveyed the area, he was confident that the gathered guardsmen would be able to handle what remained of the incursion. He would not be surprised if a larger unit came to the area just to ensure there was not a resurgence of creatures. With Aoren helping him, Talon nodded his head toward the Rathari and the bat winged Avialae. The two of them made their way over to the others.

“Thank you for your assistance. You have our gratitude.” Reaching into one of the pouches on his belt, Talon retrieved a few bank notes. He extended them to the gentlemen.

“Please. Take this as reward for your efforts. May you use it to rest, recover and press onward to your endeavors.” Talon would not accept no for an answer as he gave them each their reward. With that done, he looked to his companion and then to the skyriders not far off.

“Home?” Aoren nodded and adjusted his hold on Talon.

“Home.” The two of them made their way over to the skyriders as more Sky Guard began to join the field, called most likely by the officer in charge of their unit. It had been an eventful return to the Jewel of Karnor and Talon had a feeling that things were only just beginning.

Off Topic

Each of you can add +100 gp to your ledger! Courtesy of Talon.