Beyond Light's Reach (IC)

[Finland SSR]

Quentin, the Next Day, On the Road to Tharan's Keep

Theodor Arnulfsson / Riki Farinhait

---

Neither Theo nor Riki had seen the headquarters of the Knights of Shotarr before, even if the fame of the organization had reached their ears before - so, it was not a great first impression to see its tip smoudering and its air filled with the sound of combat. Soon, a lone rider reached their ranks and informed them that this was indeed the work of a demonic invasion. They arose from the depths and suddenly besieged the castle, which the Shotarr knights defending it have barely been able to ward off.

"Here we go again." Theo calmly stated and lowered his shield, placing it on the ground, while the warriors among their ranks were gathering for a strategy discussion. "What is it that you know of the enemy forces, messenger? How many of them are there? Do they have a leader, or are they a scattered horde?"

Riki, on the other hand, raised his eyes from within his cloak as soon as he heard the scout exclaim that they need help. This could only be one thing - a yet another demon incursion, a disgrace on the face of Eboris. The necromancer immediately started pushing himself through the crowd until he caught up to Tenna, then put his hand on the elf's shoulder and reached out his hand, saying:

"The knife. Now."

[Zarkenis Ultima]

Saelaam of Trelia
Hammer of Eboris Encampment

---

Saelaam quickly shook his head at the elf as she apologized for prying - it was not like her question was an uncommon one, and she certainly hadn't been demanding or impolite. At the compliments that followed, he simply smiled. While he obviously hadn't chosen his vocation to receive praise for it, hearing from those who valued his efforts and those of his brethren always brought a smile to his face.

Afterwards, Brialya began sharing a little bit of her own story, namely that she was not an Athelaian, but a spy sent to infiltrate their ranks and find out about a dangerous faction within. Come to think of it, weren't the Athelaians the ones who initiated the hostilities earlier? I suppose that makes more sense now given her story... The young man thought. He also briefly wondered which of the Pantheon's Goddesses she might've had in mind when she spoke, but quickly discarded that train of thought. If she's a spy, she's likely courting Faenar's favor.

"I see, that sounds like quite a dangerous assignment. I'm glad you weren't one of them." He said with a smile. "Don't worry about them hearing about it from me, I don't particularly like Athelaians either. The way they look down on other races just doesn't sit well with me." He stated. Of course, if he were to ever come across a wounded elf from Athela or even a Guardian, he would come to their aid without hesitation, as healing others through prayer and protecting life on Eboris were the tenets of the Chosen. But that didn't mean he had to like them.

Shortly afterwards their dance together ended. The conclusion wasn't nearly as flashy as the others, but it left the young Thalari satisfied nonetheless, he'd had plenty of fun. The two then sat down on a nearby log and grabbed drinks for themselves, with Tenna soon joining them. The Chosen continued having fun with the elves, though he drank fairly conservatively, as he did not want to be too buzzed to tend to his nocturnal rituals.

After some time had passed, Saelaam excused himself and left the two elf women on their own, deciding that he'd spent more than enough time mingling with them. He'd greatly enjoyed their company, but now was the time for tending to his nocturnal rituals and so, he walked away from the campfires and wandered down the side of the stream for a it, just enough that he was still within the light of the fire, but far enough that no one would bother him. The priest lifted one hand towards the moon while the other remained close to his chest and began reciting ancient chants - as he did so, a soft glow like moonlight enveloped him, and he felt his fatigue quickly wash away as the power of the moon replenished his reserves of magika.

As the ceremony came to an end, the Ar'el offered a prayer of gratitude and then sat down by the stream, pulling out various blank stone charms and starting the long incantation required to turn one of them into a powerful warding rune. It was not an easy spell to weave, and he would have to repeat it several times if he wanted to have enough warding stones to face whatever trials were coming, but he wasn't one to complain.

It was going to be a long night...

[Northwest Slobovia]

Archeno
Temporary Encampment, After Haden Hill
Chronicles of Eboris Standard Time

"All the stories I heard say that Siona is the best. She sealed away the Damned Lord, fought giants, and has walked the dreams of princes and kings and lords and everything, right Siona?" Rithi looked over at her master at that […] "Those are just stories Rithi," said Siona, a pointed look out of the corner of her eye, "and most of them are made up in bars by the patrons." Rithi[…] still gave Siona an indignant look and crossed her arms over her chest.

Her comments drew a flicker of a grin, and for a moment, it seemed that light from the guards' campfire twinkled in Archeno's eyes.

With that realization, Siona smiled[…] a genuine one, and brighter than most would expect from a wandering magi in a fancy cloak. […] "Spirits, mostly," said Siona in answer to his question. "I make contracts with the ones who will let me, or seal away the dangerous ones. Though I also can summon a familiar, a few weapons, and the northern winds." Siona smiled again[.]

A smile is both a dangerous weapon and a great friend. That she's giving specifics is a good sign, though. “It seems your apprentice isn't far off: you can summon many things! Perhaps your reputation is well deserved, and if not, good stories can carry more weight than dry facts can.

“Could we see a small demonstration? Seeing works of magika by the well-trained is a wonderous thing.”

[Tomia]

Quentin
"I only know that there are a great deal many of them sir. I was part of a scouting mission before we were besieged. I barely made it out alive and hid in the woods before I saw you arrive. The keep is surrounded though. You can see heavy fighting on the ramparts from a distance."

As Quentin had sent off the people he trusted to gather as many liuetents for the battle as they could, he noticed a disturbance occurring between two beast folk towards the middle of the gathered army. One of them was dragon-like and the other bird-like. The bird-like figure was surrounded by a dozen or so creatures of the similar appearance. Their arrival had clearly drawn the attention of the army around them. Quentin slowly approached, unsure what exactly was happen as the lead among the bird-folk unfurled a scroll and recited from it. Before he could really assess what was going on, the dragon warrior brutally bit the messenger's head off.

In the name of the gods what is going on?, Quentin thought with alarm as he moved in closer to the situation. He approached the dragon warrior who stood above the body of her fallen foe. "You there, come with me." He said sternly and with authority. There was a crowd growing and the last thing he needed before a pending battle was a spectacle.

He led Danica away from the crowd, though there was no truly secluded place to bring her given that they hadn't set up tents or anything.

"Alright, you're going to need to explain to me who you are and what exactly you were thinking killing someone right as a battle was starting?"

[The Republic of Atria]

Flynt

He arrived at his place of rest for the next few nights: A notably well made castle by the name of Tharan's Keep. Home of the Knights of Shotarr. It wasn't as ornate or wondrous as the Consortium, that much was for sure, but as castles went there were probably few that could match this one. Talking his way in wasn't hard, the second the guards heard "healer" they let him pass. Few were going to complain about a healer. They were more than willing to let him spend a few nights at the castle in exchange for patching up people who needed it. He even made the very strange offer of dealing with their rat problem. All castles had it, though few would admit it. Plus, he'd need the life energy heal.

As if he predicted the future, he tracked a few rat droppings and quickly located a nest inside some cracked stone, behind some shelves. He lured out as many as he could, at which point their life forces were drained away, leaving small piles of dust where the rats used to be. There had to be more, so he did the only thing he could do: stick his arm down into the stone and see if his magic would find any more.

Several knights watched as the mage they let in earlier attempt to keep his word and were putting their battle hardened emotions to work by trying not to laugh at the silly looking mage using his talent and wondrous ability to warp reality to fight rats, even if he was winning, the scene was funny.

A moment later, Flynt arose, his left hand in a fist. He showed it to the knights, and then opened it up, letting the rat dust sprinkle all over the floor. Afterwards he made his way to the infirmary, where he went to work patching up the warriors. Nothing too serious, just some cracked bones, gashes, and bruises from some sparring that might've gone a little too far. The warriors were all thankful. "You're most welcome gentlemen and ladies. But the master of the mystic must now make his way to his sleeping quarters. As he spent most of the way walking and listening to rumors from stupid people."

True to his word, he left and made his way to the small room that he was granted for the night, musing on the rumors he'd heard on his journey. Hokey, that's all they had to be. The demons were gone, and had been gone for ages. Nowadays it was extremely rare to find a rabid one out in the wild and even that was something he believed to be a hoax. What nonsense. He thought as he drifted off into sleep.

He awoke to loud shouting and the sounds of metal foot wear smacking stone. After almost falling out of his bed, he threw on his robes and ran out to see what the ruckus was. He again heard the word demon being tossed around. It couldn't be, but he didn't get long to dwell on it, as what he assumed was a captain or a sergeant of sorts spotted him. "You! Earn your stay, get your magical ass to the ramparts NOW!"

Blinking a few times, he bolted to where the man pointed: stairs that led up the side of the castle to the ramparts. He already saw several archers and elected to follow them since they obviously knew where they were going. Once he reached the top and looked down, he felt his heart sink. "They're REAL?"

[Skyggeheim]

Tarren Nar'Sett
Being Old is Tiresome

Tarren let the string of his bow slam forward, watching as the arrow punched into the demon's head with finality. The last demon in this probing wave had been eliminated, but Tarren had a sneaking suspicion that the next attack to come would be far greater. He scowled, his situation was looking more dire by the minute. Simply put, this fortress of stone and mortar did not have enough defenders to hold off an assault like this for much longer. Soon, they would be overrun, and that would be the end of Tarren's Great Hunt. Looking around, he met the gaze of several of the other men who were standing guard. They were breathing hard, and many were praying to their gods that they might live another few short hours. Tarren loathed them. Big clumsy men trundling about in their shiny armor, touting spears and swords, and thinking that they were somehow the mightiest thing to ever walk the lands of Eboris. He let a smile slip past his stony exterior.

Perhaps the demons are here to change that viewpoint. Tarren thought, then noticed that one of the soldiers was gawking at him.

"What're ya' smilin' 'bout, freak?" The soldier asked, then pointing to the dense woods around the castle, "Soon 'nough another wave is gonna come, and we're gonna get torn apart!"

"You might be torn apart, trusor'na," Tarren said, shiny man in Lionspeak, "But I plan on living to hunt another day."

"And how d'ya plan on doin' tha'?" Came the reply.

"By winning."

The soldier threw his hands up in exasperation, looking at Tarren with frustration laden on his face. It seemed as if he was getting tired of speaking to the half-elf, but was innately curious as to what Tarren meant.

"Well, you must be some sort of hoighty-toighty general if you've got an idea of how we're gonna fight our way out of bein' almost completely surrounded." He said, now eager to hear how Tarren managed to talk his way out of the logical hole he had dug himself into. Unfortunately, the soldier was delayed in getting his answer. The bleating cry of a horn signaled the advance of yet another wave of demons. The soldiers around Tarren whimpered with fear, but the hunter himself smiled and licked his lips in anticipation. He had a feeling this would be the wave he was waiting for. At first, the demons' attacks had consisted of nothing but measly imps and a few four-legged beasts. But, as their less-capable enemies were beaten back from the walls, the enemies slowly had starting sallying forth with bigger and bigger creations, each one abominable and apocalyptic in its own nature.

But Tarren was waiting for one in particular.

Suddenly, the trees rippled and shook. The ground trembled as heavy footfalls grew louder and louder. The treeline parted and from out of the hazy darkness of the forest emerged the next wave of enemies. Many were the standard fare that Tarren expected, but trailing behind them came a towering mass of rage incarnate. It pointed one decrepit finger at the ramparts of the keep, and presumably the defenders atop it. The demons in front of it echoed the behemoth's battle-cry, rushing forward to take the wall.

"The gods have forsaken us!" Came the fearful cry from beside Tarren.

"No, my boy!" Tarren roared in response, nocking an arrow to his bow and loosing it, "They have blessed us with prey!"

Tarren could only drop a few of the demons before they were upon the walls, leaping on its defenders with murderous intent. Slinging his bow across his back, the hunter pulled Hamstringer from his belt and raked it across the throat of a charging demon in one fluid motion. Twisting around the dying enemy and grabbing it by the horns, Tarren twirled and flung the corpse off the wall, clearing his way. Another demon fell to the tip of his knife as he plunged it deep, parrying a descending blow with his wrist blade before lashing out with a kick that sent the attacker careening off the rampart. Suddenly, the entire wall shook under a crushing blow from the behemoth. Stumbling, Tarren barely sidestepped a wild spear stab before gripping the shaft and tugging it from the demon's grip and surging forward. The enemy suddenly found Tarren's wrist blade punching through its chest. The wall trembled again, and the behemoth roared in frustration.

"Shit." Tarren said aloud, deciding something needed to be done before the walls were breached. Leaping to the higher section of the rampart, Tarren turned and slammed the bottom of his boot into a demon that leaped up to chase him. Running across the parapet, he moved towards the ballista that had been abandoned in favor of more shields and swords against the enemy. Once he reached the cumbersome weapon, he turned and unslung his bow. Several demons had elected to chase him down, and they soon found themselves lying face down with arrows sticking from their chests. Once again slinging his bow, he took hold of the ballista, maneuvering the weapon to the left as far as it would go. Tarren cursed when he realized it would not angle itself far enough to strike the behemoth. However, when the massive demon drew back to deliver another blow to the walls, Tarren realized that it just barely came into his sights. Smiling with anticipation as the wall around him trembled, he waited until the apocalyptic enemy once again wound up another earth-shaking blow.

And then he pulled the release.

The bolt rocketed forward, slamming through the neck and protruding out of the collarbone of the behemoth. The thing roared, half-rage and half-agony, before keeling backward, slamming onto the ground and the light fading from its eyes. Tarren roared in triumph, now springing into action and running to a portion of the wall that needed defense. But as he sprinted forward, he saw another humongous wave of the enemy streaming forward from the trees. The fatigue on his muscles seemed to sigh in protest of another few hours of fighting, and he scowled.

He hated getting old.

---

Danica Tryss

Almost immediately after sending away her Fangs, Danica was pulled aside by the person she had originally set out to find. Quentin looked up at her with equal parts confusion and anger in his eyes. Despite the fact that she was significantly taller than him, and could probably pick him up with one hand, she respected the fact that he showed no intimidation or fear when facing her. Rather, he seemed like an actual commander; one who may never be the most imposing member of his army, but is the one to certainly command the most respect.

This one is acceptable...for a human. She mused as Quentin questioned her about why she just murdered a Kh'el. Danica snorted impetuously, crossing her arms and looking down at Quentin.

"The short answer? The Eagle King sent their emissaries to disgrace me and just began a civil war," Danica said, pausing before speaking again, "The long answer? The King has been propagating a destruction of Ko'el culture from every part of Hercynia. He tears down our monuments, forbids our customs, and removes us from positions of power in both the military and political realm. He has publicly denounced our way of life as antiquated and considers us nothing more than shock troops for the petty wars he plans for the sake of his own reputation. And now? He has finally seen that there is a challenger to his dominion over Hercynia, and that terrifies him. I am a bastion for all Ko'el to rally around, and that terrifies him."

Danica felt her fists ball up as she spoke. The mere thought of the Eagle-King was enough to drive her to anger.

"So he stripped me of my political power, and has demoted me from generalship. It's a move shallow enough that even a 'savage dragon bitch' can see through it. He plans on moving against the Ko'el in full, and he will use the demon incursion as the excuse. 'How can we trust the Ko'el, and their warrior-savior, to fight with us reliably after we removed their dynasty?' he will say. So I do not plan on letting that happen. My people will be prepared for war, and he should be terrified of the enemy he has made. I sent him a message. You would not understand, human."

[The Twelve Isles]

[/b]
A smile is both a dangerous weapon and a great friend. That she's giving specifics is a good sign, though. “It seems your apprentice isn't far off: you can summon many things! Perhaps your reputation is well deserved, and if not, good stories can carry more weight than dry facts can.

“Could we see a small demonstration? Seeing works of magika by the well-trained is a wondrous thing.”

""Oh, fiil el theen sionaich*," said Siona, giving Archeno a good natured eye roll. "Please, sir, you dont need to tell me the power of stories. I was raised in a Rotha caravan, stories are everything to us, with the plays we put on they're practically our livelihoods. There's a reason we refer to ourselves as 'The Worlds Historians. Even now, I still collect the stories I hear, sometime I could share them with you, if you so desire."

Siona smiled wider, suddenly liking Archeno. It was rare she found someone who understood the power of tales. More often than not, folks found her odd when she came into bars and asked for stories, notebook and pen in hand.

"As for magika, I suppose I could give a little demonstration," she continued. At the mention of magic, Rithi's eyes lit up, and Siona watched out of the corner of her eye as Rithi tried to contain her obvious excitement. Siona nodded to her apprentice, and concentrated on splitting her mind, separating her conscious and unconscious into two separate entities.

Once sperated with her unconscious mind, she stepped beyond the realm of mortals, into the place between life and death, to where a series of runes lay, placed by Siona a few years ago. They were simple runes but effective ones, circles with the symbol for air in the center and the cardinal direction north marked with a line pointing upwards and connecting with an arrow. They corresponded to the symbols tattooed on Siona's hands, though hers were completed by the symbol for ice in the large circle and a smaller circle underneath the larger one, at the space where her hand met her wrist. Her unconscious connected with one of the runes, and saw a mountaintop, covered in snow with the wind blowing fiercely. It concentrated, meditated, and became one with the wind, and allowing Siona to feel its essence within herself.

It was cold in the strange space where Siona's unconscious had went, and through the tether between her unconscious and conscious mind, the cold began to seep into Sionas body. It was not as bad here as where she had to go to summon creatures and spirits, but as she raised her hand in front of Archeno, pointing her palm down the field, crystals of ice began to form on her clothing, hair and skin, just enough to crackle slightly when she moved. The runes on her palm glowed a faint white, and with a quick closing of the seal formed in her mind the wind of the north jumped through her arm, blowing softly from her pores and exploding from her hand like a gale wind. The cold air rushed outwards, dragging Siona's cloak with it and blowing the clothing of Rithi and Archeno, kicked up dirt and dust from the ground and bent the trunks and branches of the trees in front of them.

As the rush of wind subsided and Siona lowered her hand to her side again, Siona combined her conscious and unconscious once more, and the runes on her palm became simple black tattoos once more. She looked over at Archeno again, a simple smile on her face, and shrugged. "There you have it," she said, looking back to watch as the trees swayed like they were getting their balance again, "magika." She spoke of it simply and without bragging, but it was clear as well in her voice that magic was a practice Siona was proud. Magic was her passion, and her ability to perform it always filled her with a sense of pride.

(*If Archeno happens to know any basic Rotha, what Siona said was "blood of the fox," a common exclamation of acknowledgement. It can technically be applied to any situation, but typically is used to acknowledge that someone has stated an undisputed fact, such as that the blood of foxes (at least to Rotha) is holy.)

[Tomia]

Danica

"Well here is something you might not understand. I am trying to organize an army against demons, an army that is filled with former enemies and rivals. Having you literally bite someone's head off in the middle of that army isn't going to work." He said in a firm voice. He sensed that this "Ko'el" was attempting to challenge his authority or at least had little respect for him given that he was a human.

"So let me make this clear, I respect the fact that you are angry and have grievances with your king. However, if you are going to remain with this army, your priority must be killing the demon hordes before us. Nothing else can matter right now." Quentin stood tall and looked Danica straight in the eyes, imagining that confidence was of great importance to her people.

"I see strength in you. You're clearly a warrior. I would like you by my side when this battle starts, and as this war goes on. But that can only happen if you are willing to dedicate yourself to this cause. Now, I that I've made myself clear let me introduce myself. I am Sir Quentin of the Knights of Shotarr." As he introduced himself he offered his hand to shake.

[Zarkenis Ultima]

Neferis Lahari
Near Tharan's Keep

---

As the reborn Hammer of Eboris rode out from their camp towards the destination set by their leader, a massive gray wolf walked at the front of the army, to the right of Quentin. It was largely a matter of practicality - her animal form was far better suited to traveling and neither the sun nor the chilly winds brought her any discomfort during the long march to Tharan's Keep. Despite being in her beast form out of convenience, however, she carried herself with an air of pride that set her apart from the others: just as Gules himself once traveled to meet the demon horde alongside his battle-brother Antores, she now marched with the Hammer, to wipe the unnatural threat off the face of Eboris once more.

It seemed that they would be called to battle again sooner rather than later. Tharan's Keep soon came into view, a mighty fortress that stood proud over the surrounding wilderness, serving as a bastion of the Knights of Shotarr. But that bastion was now under siege, its towers and ramparts set ablaze by an unknown enemy. Now, it would be naive to think that the knightly order, honorable as they claimed to be, had no enemies throughout Eboris, but Neferis had a feeling that they wouldn't be so lucky as to face a mundane opponent here. The war cries seemed unnatural at times, and sometimes the noise of clashing metal didn't sound like steel at all.

Suddenly she sensed an unfamiliar scent approaching, and heard the stomping of hooves nearby. Soon enough, a lone rider approached, looking frightened and exhausted, but nonetheless relieved to see friendly forces around - it was undoubtedly a stroke of luck that the first thing he had seen was Quentin's insignia, for she doubted he would've made the decision to approach if he had first seen her or the lion man nearby. Either way, he walked up to the Knight Commander and merely restated what everyone around had already inferred, though his wording only served to confirm her suspicions that they were not up against earthly foes here. Quentin immediately took charge of the situation and assigned his knights to ready themselves, while sending her and others to gather their forces. With just a grunt of acknowledgment, the great wolf turned and began walking through the ranks of the Hammer's makeshift army, soldiers of all races moving aside to let her through.

I've no doubt that most of these warriors are formidable in their own right, to have survived such a bloody fight against the demons, but Quentin wants the best this army has to offer... whose prowess have I witnessed firsthand? The she-wolf wondered as she weaved her way through the army. There were those that she first aided in making their way to the temple, the moose warrior and the dragoness, but the former was nowhere to be seen after the battle of Haden Hill, and the latter's arrogance made her a poor choice. More promising were those that had fought alongside her down in the tunnels: the shapeshifting storyteller, the cavalry captain and his men, and...

Before Neferis had even spotted that familiar silver mane underneath a blue cloak, her nose caught the familiar scent and tipped her off to Brialya's presence. As the elf pushed through the army while trying to get to the front, the Shi'el shifted back to her biped form and grabbed her by the shoulder, stopping her in her tracks.

"Elf, we have trouble. There's a castle besieged by demons just ahead, and the commander wants us to gather this army's finest. If you know anyone who proved themselves on the battlefield yesterday, send them to me."

[Northwest Slobovia]

Archeno
Temporary Encampment, After Haden Hill
Chronicles of Eboris Standard Time

""Oh, fiil el theen sionaich*," said Siona, giving Archeno a good natured eye roll. "Please, sir, you dont need to tell me the power of stories. I was raised in a Rotha caravan, stories are everything to us, with the plays we put on they're practically our livelihoods. There's a reason we refer to ourselves as 'The Worlds Historians. Even now, I still collect the stories I hear, sometime I could share them with you, if you so desire." Siona smiled wider[.]

Archeno had time for little more than a pleased smile. Odd, she seems to be in a similar line of work, but doesn't know Prax or me. Maybe these 'Rotha' are rather isolated.

"As for magika, I suppose I could give a little demonstration," she continued. At the mention of magic, Rithi's eyes lit up, and Siona watched out of the corner of her eye as Rithi tried to contain her obvious excitement. […magika SF/X…] "There you have it," she said[...] "magika." She spoke of it simply and without bragging, but it was clear as well in her voice that magic was a practice Siona was proud.

Even by firelight, watching Archeno's eyes would have revealed far more than simple interest in the demonstration. He seemed to study the effects, their size and scope, not only professionally, but also with a sense of respect. “You've worked hard at your craft! Perhaps Rithi did overhear a few true tales about you!” He flashed a grin at the apprentice, and provided a more serious smile to the master.

“Yes, I think the Hammer could find something for you.” He looked up at Prax, and tried look across him – without much success – at Natasia. “And I think we should let her try her hand at it.”

The great lion had watched the display with some disdain. It took a lot to impress one who had been to even the Grand College of the Consortium in his travels, but still, this Siona demonstrated some skill with her magic. "I have no problem with it. I will be the first to eat her should she cause trouble here."

Nat similarly looked unimpressed, but given that was her default look, it was hard to gauge her feelings. The fellow cryomancer merely nodded and said "Well, if we are to represent the entirety of Eboris, I see no reason not to indulge this traveler. You may help her find her Keeper, bard." With that the Scoruge of Liudzi turned and returned back into the camp.

And with that, Archeno welcomed Siona and Rithi in, and suggested they follow him to find the Keeper.

The tour of the camp proved rather perfunctory. While it was possible to distinguish some of the encampments -- the Antoran, Thalari, and Tashar camps being the most striking, the last with its rigid gridwork and wooden-spiked ditch -- the troops were starting to mix together and live like a single force.

Mostly, Archeno spent the trip pointing out people: the day's leaders, warriors, and magic-workers. "It's too many names in too little time to remember, but the other half of seeing is that the two of you are seen."

The site-seeing, such as it was, and the introductions trailed off: there were only so many people they could find, and it was getting late. Archeno found a opportunity to look over his shoulder and talk to Siona as he walked. "I've been to much of Eboris, but I've never met the Rotha. If you don't mind me asking, what's it like at home? As you may have guessed from my accent, I'm from Tashar."

[OOC: Prax and Nat appear courtesy of Syndicate Productions.]

[Skyggeheim]

Danica Tryss

Danica simply looked down at the Quentin's hand for a moment. She was, admittedly, unfamiliar with the custom of shaking hands. She supposed her muscle memory to reflexively reach out and meet his grip was not developed yet. She found it to be a strange practice, rather than some of the ways that Hercynians greeted one another. Regardless, she extended her own hand and shook his. She didn't particularly enjoy the thought of leaving her Ko'el behind to battle the Eagle King without her, but Danica had her priorities straight.

"The Eagle King will be dealt with in due time," She said, now turning to walk back to the front of formation with Quentin, "But I understand the necessity of coming together to fight these demons. There will be no Hercynia to fight for if we do not stop these things."

Danica thought for a moment. She appreciated that the human had seen the value in her prowess. It made her feel somewhat validated. She knew she was a great warrior, but there is a stark difference between being seen as a tool of war and being seen as a contribution to an army. Tools were made to be used and replaced, but a vital piece of any military formation could never be discarded. It was a small comfort to know that she was not among enemies, at least at the current moment.

"Small and weak as your species might be, human, you certainly have your priorities straight," She said, now looking at Quentin with a fang-tipped smile, "Not to mention, the bastards hurt my dragon."

---

Traven Faust

Traven had woken up, admittedly, hungover. He remembered scant little details about last night, but vaguely recalled performing a song and then dancing by himself to music. Or perhaps there was no music and he was simply twirling about with a stupid grin on his face. It was one of the two, and Traven wasn't really sure what was more embarrassing. He wasn't known for his dances when in the circus, and he was usually sober when he went on stage to perform...

His line of though was interrupted when a wolf-kin approached a woman not far ahead in the column from where he was. He managed to catch bits and pieces of their conversation, something to include a demon attack on the castle that they were approaching. He presumed this boded ill for whoever had been unlucky enough to be caught in the keep when the demons had attacked. And so, their rag-tag army was assembling to intercept and thwart the siege before the fortress was taken. Though Traven was by no means a warrior, he felt as though he should make his way to the battle. Taking a moment to adjust his gear, he quickened his pace and approached the elf-woman who had just been approached. He believed her name was Bri, or Brienne, or perhaps Bria, but he couldn't be sure.

"Seems like we're in for it again," He said, looking at the woman, "I overheard the she-wolf speaking to you, and I'll be coming with you to the front."

[Tomia]

Brialya

"Elf, we have trouble. There's a castle besieged by demons just ahead, and the commander wants us to gather this army's finest. If you know anyone who proved themselves on the battlefield yesterday, send them to me."

Brialya was heading towards the front of the army as it came to a stand still. There was clearly something going on and it likely wasn't good, given the smoke that was rising over the hill. As she walked however she saw a massive wolf heading towards her. The other soldiers around Brialya seemed a bit concerned by this, but Brialya had enough experience with beastfolk that it didn't phase her much. Also she recognized this wolf in particular. It was the woman from the battlefield who turned into her human form as she approached the elven archer.

She wasn't surprised at the news that their destination was in fact under attack. She was a little surprised though to hear that Neferis wanted her to collect people who had proven themselves in battle.

"Will do, it's good to see you again." Brialya replied before heading off to find people of her own. She gave that a thought for a moment, before deciding that it was clear that the people she had spent time with the night before were her best chance. She made her way through the crowds, and while normally it would be difficult to find people in an army this large, one her targets was fairly easy to spot. Sure enough she found Saal off to the side of the main army with the other Chosen who were transporting the wounded.

"Saal, the new Commander is calling for the best of the army to be brought to him for advising. I figured he could use a smart healer like yourself. Will you come with me to the front of the army?"

Quentin

"Small and weak as your species might be, human, you certainly have your priorities straight," She said, now looking at Quentin with a fang-tipped smile, "Not to mention, the bastards hurt my dragon."

It was clear to Quentin that the dragon woman wasn't particularly familiar with human customs like shaking hands. "Well, I'm glad to not disappoint." Quentin quipped back to Danica. "But very well, I'm glad to hear you'll be with us from here on out. Now come with me, I have people gathering commanders and advisers for this coming attack." He said heading back to the front of the army as his lieutenants within the Knights of Shotarr worked to organize their troops into formations the best they could. It was far from easy given that their army was filled with people from various military backgrounds.

[Galnius]

Tenna

The night prior had been entertaining up to a point. After the drinking, however, everyone had retired to their own areas. Everyone except Tenna, of course. The she-elf had previously spent the days before the demon attack doing very nearly nothing, and a lot of it had been spent sleeping. Due to this, she didn't fully retire until early in the morning, finding a random tree to climb and sleep tied to.

Tenna regretted the lack of sleep the next day. The sleep deprivation made her already pale face even paler, and the bags under her eyes combined with her sluggish walking could make her easily confused with an undead. Sadly she had quite a walk to do.

The fatigue would not last, as adrenaline would soon take over. It only really took one word. "Demons." The previous days fight for life made her instantly become alert, even if the messenger said they were a ways away. Handing Riki his blade when asked (more out of an autopilot than actual kindness), Tenna took off running to the side. The silver-haired elf's general plan was that she could loop back around, scouting out the fort them to see where the enemy was moving, and avoid. Maybe, just maybe, she could use the rest of the group as a decoy and esca-

Tenna stopped after leaving the main groups sight. In her mind's eye she thought about the night before. The bird boy she hadn't learned the name of, the archeress, even the reclusive prudish warlock flooded her thoughts. Pesky emotions seemed to reign supreme, changing her plans decidedly. If she could get in, she could save some people and ruin some demon's plans. If nothing else, she could hide while inside and maybe save a life that wouldn't survive anyway. For instance, that warlock who had no business being a hero. The dead would be in the middle of the battlefield now, so Tenna figured he would have to go in. There was no trusting anyone else with his survival, except maybe the other elf. Even then, she would be fighting her own battle, being an archer attacking a fort. Why did the good people have to be so....so....stupid!

[Theyra]

Ivaran Miaris
Last Night

Ivaran said goodbye to Sayyida and once he felt it was time to rest. Giving a small bow before leaving and as he walked back to the Athelaian camps. Ivaran started to think about how the rest of his fellow Athelaians feel about having to fight alongside their former enemies. That fight earlier between a Guardian and a mage showed that tensions were high and are bound to still be there for a while. Hopefully, the fact that they have a common foe with the demons will help with any lingering tensions. The last thing this army needs is an all-out brawl after their first battle with the demons. As for Ivaran, he understands that he has to work with the others and tries to keep a friendly face even if it feels weird to do so. Once he reached the Athelaian camp that he had previously visited, he promptly got out his bedroll and fell asleep.

Current Day
Ivaran did not sleep well, his concern for his family and for his old mentor made sleeping hard. He figures he only got three hours of sleep before he was woken up by a Guardian. He slowly got up and stretched before getting his gear. Ivaran was glad that his Guardian armor was light-weighted which with the level of sleep deprivation he felt, it was a good thing it did not weigh him down. The last thing he needs to worry about is his armor slowly him down.

Ivaran stayed with the Athelaian contingent as they marched towards the Hammer's new base. Then the army stopped and soon came the news that demons were assaulting the keep that they were heading to. "Blast it", Ivaran said under his breath and he tightly gripped his glaive. The demons had beaten them to the keep, what kind of luck was that? Looks like there will be another fight on their hands and he wondered if they will be facing any of those behemoths again. Hopefully not but, who knows what the demons have in store. He grinned at a new thought, maybe he finds himself fighting with Alexius again. Guess he would found out once the army moves to confront the demons before it was too late for the keep. Until then Ivaran stayed in place, waiting for the order to move out.

[Finland SSR]

Tenna

Quentin

Riki Farinhait

---

Tenna did exactly what Riki needed her to do - she handed him his ritual knife - and then immediately stormed out. Instead of collecting to their respective unit, she went off into the distance all on her own. Even though she looked like she was too exhausted to hold her own in a fight mere moments earlier.

"Wait, where are you going?" escaped Riki's lips, but his voice died down in the commotion, and his eyes instead set sight upon the castle in the distance. While they were standing here and preparing for the fight, the demons were besieging it and poised to break in any second now. All it would take is for them to hesitate just a few minutes and there would be nothing left for them to save. Hundreds of thin threads of life, failed to be protected in their moment of need...

The necromancer suddenly pushed through the crowd and the lines of soldiers, aiming for the front of the army, where he singled out Quentin and pulled him up by the shoulder, gushing out:

"Give me people to cover me with and let us charge. Now! There's people trapped out there, we cannot wait!"

[Absolon-7]

Rudolph Thorbecke
After healing that warrior woman, Rudolph had decided to stay as far back as he could. He had stayed on the surface picking off lone demons one by one as it seemed most of the group he had joined up with had gone into a great tunnel in the earth where demons kept streaming from. He didn't know for how long or how many throats of golden blood he spilled but eventually they came back storming out and the remaining demons were as good as dead. As the chants of the combined army hailed victory Rudolph ran back to the temple to find his pack he had thrown away while fighting that giant goat monster. With the prying eyes of Puk it wasn't that hard but as he headed back outside Puk came squawking bloody murder at him.

"Undead! Undead! Undead! Dozens and dozens!," cawed the crow as it flew in circles.

"What are you on about?" he bewilderingly said, "Last thing I need is some walking dead to deal with."

After following the crow he circled around to stay hidden and flinched at seeing some dreaded necromancer being all amicable with the Shotarr Knight that was seemingly in charge. Preferably he'd like to sneak off and wait to slit the necromancer's throat but as they were apparent allies it was definitely not a good idea. Another day perhaps but not this one. Now that things were calming down he had two choices: leave or stay. If he left he could find a nice Ossuary to rest at for a few days but he'd be left with the disgrace of leaving a necromancer get away. If he stayed he could keep tabs on them and also he had a feeling something big was happening and the Slayers would need a man in the thick of it.

In the end he decided to stay and simply melted into the crowd of nameless soldiers following Quentin. He didn't pay much attention to what happened in the night they camped. He simply managed to secure a small one just for him when no one was looking and slept the night away. He joined everyone else in breaking camp and to continue walking out of the forest and finally onto a road but suddenly they stopped. He was staying at the back so he couldn't exactly tell what was happening however he could see the faintest traces of the top of a castle and tails of smoke in the far distance. Rudolph took a step back from the confused soldiers in the back to call over his crow.

"Puk, go fly to the castle and memorize every threat then come back. I figure these people would appreciate fast reconnaissance," said Rudolph.

The young man ran to a wagon belonging to the makeshift army and tossed his travel pack into it. He took out a knife and carved a discreet symbol that ran along the wood to make it look somewhat natural. He began to run to the front of the army drawing out his sword and shield but he suddenly stopped. He had to wait for Puk to get back so right now he just had to find whoever was in charge.

[The Anarcho-Syndicalist Commune]

Prax

The Great Lion has been travelling in formation at the head of a combined group of Tasharan and Antoran soldiers. Though the few Tasharan commanders that had joined the Hammer teachnically outranked him, and though the Antoran troops had no really organized command structure, composed of Thalari who has been mercenarys a day ago, both groups held great respect for Prax. For the Tasharens, they recognized a warrior who had helped lead several of their troops through the terrible fighting at Haden Hill. For the Antorans, Prax was an already semi-celebrity figure. He was no mere cub just starting his journey. Rather it appeared that the Demonic Invasions started to coincide with Prax's preparations for his own homecoming. The world was changing, a concept not unfamiliar to the Antorans, who saw in the Pridelord of Eckers the figure to lead them into a new age.

Prax meanwhile simply relished in the attention. He exchanged many a story and jokes with the men, dwarves, and thalari who followed him. Suddenly, a Knight rode up to the group and said urgently "Who among you stands as leader? The general requires their presence immediately."

A Tasharen captain cleared his throat a bit and said "I believe that the Pridelord here may speak for us. In Tashar our rank defines us, but we no longer fight for the Empire. You have our respect, son of Molap."

One of the Thalari, another peculiar bird-folk draped in all black robes also stepped forward and said "You command us as well. Speak for us to this General."

Prax nodded, and followed the Knight up to the front of the army. However, before he could get there, he and his new guide noticed a scuffle going on. Seeing the "General" lead a large Thalari away from the rest of the army, Prax followed quickly behind them. Letting Danica and Quentin exchange words, he walked up to the dragon woman as Quentin walked away. "Ko'el. Never thought I would see one of your kind outside of tapestries. It would be an honor to fight at your side today. If you wish to accept that offer, find the Tasharan Thalari battalion a ways back. I would exchange more words, but I have been called up by that Quentin man."

Prax then turned and followed Quentin at a brisk pace, yelling after him "General! The Legates of Tashar and the Thalarian forces in your army stand ready for combat. Order us how you see fit!"

Nat

Nat had been riding towards the front of the army. This was so she got any news from the scouts first, and because being in the vanguard gave her first pick of the bodies around her. Riding on her blue fleshed steed, she struck quite a figure as she rode alone between a contingent of the Knights and a smaller group of Wanderer's who seemed to have joined at some point. She noticed another man that had also commanded the dead at Haden Hill. At first she almost followed him up towards the head Knight and that damned Lion, but then she noticed something. A single crow, flying up ahead of the army. Turning about, she noticed a man throw his pack into a wagon, and draw an all too familiar style of blade.

Banishing her horse and calling forth her raven, Nat approached the man, the decaying raven with glowing blue eyes sat aperch her shoulder. Waving a bit to hail him from the empty space behind the forming ranks that they were in, Nat put on an imitation of a smile and said in her monotone echo "Ho Brother. Care to chat before battle?"

[Tomia]

Quentin
After a while the people he had sent off had returned with people of their own, all of which he hoped were capable of leading troops and offering strategic advice. They had gathered around him in a large circle, Lena by his side after recovering from fatigue the day before. As they all gathered, Riki spoke up, clearly eager to begin the battle.

"Patience necromancer, I am eager as you are to join the fight. But my fellow Knights are still organizing our forces, and I have summoned all of you here because either I or someone else has vouched for your skill and usefulness in battle. Now, we will need mages, archers, and warriors alike to lead our troops into this battle. You all know your own strengths, so I ask you lead where you see fit. Take charge, guide the troops, and fight bravely. Today we save this castle, tomorrow we build an army to save the world. To battle!"

As the lieutenants dispersed Quentin turned to Prax, "It's good to hear your new are ready. I want you to be in the vanguard, leading the charge. We need a strong first strike to break the demons' lines." With that he turned back to Riki, "I need you to use your... talents, to make sure we don't get encircled or overrun. These demons might have traps in store that we don't know about, we can't risk being taken by surprise." With that Quentin walked forward to where the army was taking shape. Brialya had joined the archer in the rear guard while Alexius was taking charge of a contingent of mages who would serve as back line artillery. Meanwhile Lena was leading the battle mages of Tashar on the front lines.

With their troops finally ready, Quentin had one of his knights sound the horn of battle, and within seconds the barely formed Hammer of Ebrois was charging into battle. The Demon army was large, likely three or four thousand troops, however they were now stuck between two forces. The Hammer smashed into their back lines, and soon chaos ensued.

[Skyggeheim]

Danica Tryss
New Blood to Be Spilled

Danica smiled ear to ear when the thunderous horn announced the Hammer's charge. Drawing Asunder from her back, she gripped it tightly. Soon, the army surged forward. It began at a walking pace, every-so-slowly picking up into a breakneck race towards the demon lines. Danica felt the adrenaline surge through her body as Zahhak once again blessed her warrior spirit with the courage and endurance to triumph in the day. As she ran, she found the Lion-kin who had spoken to her was charging next to her.

"Try to keep up, lion." She jabbed at him. They were merely meters away from the demon lines, which were rapidly assembling and raising their spears to match the rumbling charge. With a roar, Danica raised Asunder into the sky. Lightning crackled from the head of the massive axe and bounced down the shaft as she brought it down, shattering the front-most demon's shield and cleaving through his shoulder. She used her momentum to spin into the gap she had created in their formation, bringing her axe around and slamming into the chest of another enemy. All around her, the Hammer crashed down on the demon lines. Prax had managed to find himself right next to her, and she met his pace through the enemy lines. Together they broke through the first several ranks of the demon army, lightning lancing out from the wounds Danica inflicted on her enemy and blood painting the ground in front of Prax.

As she slaughtered a pair of impish demons, she looked up to the scene in front of her. A strange demon, floating slightly above the ground. He raised one decrepit hand, and at least a dozen four-legged beasts the size of lions spilled forward from behind the mage. Gritting her teeth, Danica sheathed her axe and drew her shield. Picking up one of the spears from the ground, she raised her shield as a fireball lanced over the demon ranks and straight at her body. The impact against her shield shook her bones, but the strong metal held. Then, she cocked her arm back and fired the spear forward. It arced through the air, striking the demon-mage in the chest. The thing fell to the ground, twitching and shrieking, but its beasts of war still charged forward.

"The beasts," Danica hissed to Prax over the din of battle as she drew her sword. Not any sooner had she issued the warning did one of the beasts leap into the air and bare its horns to impale Danica. Sidestepping, she brought her sword upwards in a slice into the beast's neck, cutting through corded muscle and separating its head from its body. Another bore down on Danica, standing up on its hind legs and bringing both frontal hooves down towards her head. Raising her shield upwards, the thing's incredible weight forced Danica down onto one knee. Luckily, its soft underbelly was exposed as it struggle to reach around Danica's outstretched arm to crush her armor. She stabbed forward, hearing the thing squeal and die before shoving it off.

With every kill she made, she could feel rage bubble up inside of her. Once again, she saw red on the fringes of her eyesight. The weaker demons became nothing more than objects, and she moved almost automatically. She savored every drop of blood she spilled, but she had to consciously maintain her ability to distinguish friend from foe.

The battle had begun, and the Dragoness would not be sated until every last demon had been crushed underneath the weight of the Hammer.

---

Tarren Nar'Sett
Salvation and...Prey Stealing

Tarren had just raked Hamstringer across another demon's throat when another horn sounded not far from the keep. This one was...different...than the demon horn. It was lighter, and it sounded like something far more natural to this continent. Suddenly, from behind the pressing demon army, charged a motley formation that included almost every race in Eboris. Elves, men, Thalari, and perhaps even a few dwarves rushed forwards in droves to attack the rear of the demonic ranks. They shattered the formations of the demons like water crashing against sand. However, their momentum slowed substantially when the melee thickened and both sides pressed against each other for an advantage.

At first, Tarren smiled. In what seemed like a random stroke of luck, he would be saved from almost certain death. The new army on the field would draw most of the attention away from the castle, and he could make his escape. However, a realization dawned on him that - to any who were not a hunter - would make positively zero sense: if he slipped away now, he would never be credited for killing the behemoth. In fact, he was fairly certain some vagrant that had been defending the keep with Tarren would falsely claim that he was the one that brought the giant down. And that, Tarren simply could not abide by.

"You bastards are going to steal my prey!" He roared, springing forward and bringing Hamstringer across the chest of an approaching enemy. Now sheathing the long knife, he drew his bow and began firing arrows with deadly efficiency. Each individual arrow found its mark, planting itself solidly inside the cracked flesh of one of the demons. He paused momentarily to jump down the ledge to the battleground below, rushing forward to climb atop the corpse of the Behemoth he had slain. Slowly, attention was drawn to him from both his fellow defenders and the demon menace. He laughed as the demons slowly scaled the corpse to come meet him. They only met death in the form of knife and wrist blade.

"Come and get me, boys!" Tarren roared, to whoever was listening. He was hoping, at the very least, the pressure of the melee would allow him to join the attacking army soon enough.

[Absolon-7]

Nat

Rudolph Thorbecke
Alright, he just had to give Puk a few minutes to fly around the castle which should be in time for this motley force to get into some sort of formation for the attack. That little bastard could yammer on and on with that beak of his about the most banal and annoying things but he sure knew how to scout out a location. If all things went well then the enemy would all be just on one side of the castle but if they were surrounding it then that make mopping up the place way more of a hurdle. The nearby river and forest would provide a lot of moisture for his spells so he could count on that if things didn't look too good. Suddenly he felt footsteps behind him and he turned to see a very short woman wave at him. Once he got closer look at her he felt the hairs at the back of his neck stand up.

Her skin and demeanor didn't look natural and that peculiar echo was just unnerving but any Slayer worth their salt knows to repress their nerves. There was also the raven on her shoulder that looked like a haphazard taxidermy. No raven had glowing eyes either. He had suspicions but he didn't want them to be true especially not now. He lowered his sword slightly but kept his shield facing forward.

"What could be so important that you'd seek a stranger out right before a huge fight?" questioned Rudolph coldly.

[Zarkenis Ultima]

Neferis Lahari
Near Tharan's Keep

---

After meeting and then parting ways with the elf spy, Neferis continued her search for capable men and women to deliver to Quentin in order to plan out a strategy for the upcoming battle. While she believed that those she had fought with during the previous morning were still her best bet, they proved quite difficult to find, making her suspect that perhaps they had already made their way back to Quentin, either on their own or invited by someone else.

Of course, that didn't mean that her search was fruitless. Shortly after reuniting with Brialya and her impromptu recruits, the she-wolf came across the elite Tasharen cavalry that had aided her in bringing down a behemoth during the battle of Haden Hill and persuaded their commander to accompany her. They were soon joined by the remnants of a Sartharian contingent serving under Commander Graystone to aid Tashar in the fight, and a young Dascian captain who wished to pledge his services to the Hammer. Tensions between the Tasharen and the Dascians were naturally high, despite the greater calling, but Neferis was thankfully successful in defusing the situation - she was originally an ally of the Dascians after all, and the men of Tashar greatly respected her for the prowess she showed in battle as well.

Having amassed a sizable cavalry force - along with some odds and ends - the first daughter of Amarkar, now in human form, began making her way to he front of the camp once more, to meet with Quentin and the others. Along the way, they came across a tiny woman mounted on a rotting horse, and a hooded knight in black armor.

"Lady Lahari." Spoke a man walking next to her, one Hecator of Carim, a human Sartharian soldier. As one who hailed from one of Antora's neighbors, he was among the few around who recognized her status, though this was far from pleasant. "I recognize that style of armor. That man there is a servant of Chtholes." He spoke as he pointed at Rudolph.

"Chtholes..." She mused aloud. As the preserver of the endless cycle of life and death prescribed by the Thalai, many beastfolk saw the enigmatic skeleton god as a figure worth respecting, even if one was not a devout adherent of the Pantheon. "And what makes a servant of Chtholes worth bringing along, man of Carim?" She questioned.

"One of the few things known about the Slayers of the Crypt is that their martial training is among the best in the world. If that man there is a full fledged man at arms and not just a runaway recruit then he is definitely worth at least considering, m'lady." Hecator explained, drawing a grimace from the she-wolf as he concluded. She nodded, however, and walked up to the man, paying little attention to whatever his previous conversation was about.

"You. Man in grey and black. I've been sent to gather the best this army can offer to put them at the service of our commander, and a friend of mine seems to think highly of Slayers such as yourself." She stated in the coarse manner that characterized the speech of the desert wolves. "If you think yourself worthy, I'd like you to come with us."

[Segral]

Claire Dione

The she-wolf's words remained harsh, but her posture seemed to relax. After all, if Claire had wanted to skewer her with a trident, she would've done so precious seconds ago. As well, it wasn't as if she could do much. She was stuck on a stream and had an entire battalion of well-armed and trained warriors ready to slaughter her if she so much as scratched the she-wolf, attacking the camp would be foolhardy. Nay, she had no intention to harm them, only to indulge her curiosity. And the she-wolf relented, beginning her recount of the events that had happened prior, as Claire had only seen the bloody aftermath.

Her suspicions were correct. Demons had apparated into this world once again, forming from a temple atop a certain Haden Hill. A fight had broken out to control the demons and the survivors from the bloody conflict had decided to form a new army of sorts to ensure the safety of Eboris. The leader was standing nearby, he was the bearded man who stood so awkwardly. Not the most imposing leader, but skills in combat had far more value than appearances. Perhaps he was a worthy fighter. Meanwhile, the she-wolf introduced herself as Neferis of Amarkar, a powerful name indeed. Fitting for one who is the "servant of the sun". But this was no time for formalities, they had more pressing issues on their hands.

"...Neferis. Thank you for informing me of this. By gods, demons are upon us again..." Claire muttered, partially to herself, partially to her informer. "...Would you be willing to take more for this army of yours?" Claire asked, a glint in her eye. "I know I seem to be suspicious, but I mean no harm to this group. Even if I did, you could overpower me in mere seconds. I would like to join this battle against the demons, for if they rise again, it will mean more bloodshed than this world has ever seen. Could you ask Sir Miller over there if I am permitted to enlist, please?" she asked. Her words seemed smooth and fake, but her tone said otherwise, a hint of pleading detectable underneath the vocabulary. She earnestly wanted this, she wanted to join this war. It had been so long since she had gotten a taste of combat, gotten that familiar thrill in her veins. If they could just give her one chance, she could prove herself to be a fearsome warrior and trustworthy individual. Just one chance.

[Finland SSR]

Quentin

Riki Farinhait / Theodor Arnulfsson

---

"Right..."

Instead of following through with his initiative, Quentin shot Riki down and gave him an order - use his magical art to make sure that the Hammer does not get trapped or overrun. Soon, the horn of battle roared and a vast wave of ferocious troops smashed into the demon lines.

Back in the Battle of Haden Hill, Riki did not hesitate, he knew exactly what he had and needed to do. He did not hesitate when he was about to charge forth into the fray before Quentin stopped him, too. Both of those times, it was because his mind told him he has a duty to help others. But now... was a little different. Instead of a duty, he had an order, a demand, which did not come from his own subconscious, but rather someone else's.

And so, it left Riki almost frozen, unsure on what to do, while hundreds ran past him - thankfully, none of them knocked him down to the ground in their charge. He was told to avoid them from getting encircled or overrun, but what does that mean? Just summon more undead to bolster their ranks? Where? When? How can he tell which flank needs more help? And, most importantly... how can he keep himself safe in this chaos?

"You said you needed someone to cover you, right?" a voice called out to the necromancer from behind. It was a tall, blonde knight, with a wide shield and a spear equipped. "Theodor, son of Arnulf." Riki saw a brief glimpse of him during Haden Hill and the following march... he was always rather close to Quentin, pretty much a member of his entourage. The necromancer would have expected him to follow their leader to battle, then...

"...Yeah." Riki briefly muttered, spinning the ritual knife in his hands and then covering himself up more with his pitch black cloak. The man seemed to trust him, so why should he not do the same...

Well, for a necromancer, there are a lot of reasons why he should not trust someone, but when they're both in the heat of battle, they can safely be ignored. Riki's eyes shifted towards the ongoing battle. More and more corpses were piling up in the front lines, begging for a second chance at life - often behind the demon lines. "That'll be... great. If you can help me get closer to the line of contact... I'd appreciate it."

[Tomia]

Quentin
As Quentin and the vanguard charged forward, they slammed into the waiting spears of the back line of the demon army who had turned to face their new foes. Quentin swung his heavy blade, slashing through a few demon spears in the process. They had clearly caught their enemies by surprise, which was advantageous for the newly formed army, but that didn't mean they weren't in danger. The demons stabbed and slashed at men around him, Quentin heard the screams of soldiers around him as they fell. This only motivated him to end this battle further. His sword sparked with electricity as he slammed it against the ground, sending blasts of lightening surging across the field and killing at least a dozen demons in its wake.

However, now Quentin had the demon's attention and as he raised his sword from the ground three swordsmen charged him. He slashed at the nearest one, ripping apart the demon's chest armor and sending it to the ground but the other two were close behind and Quentin barely managed to dodge their strikes with his blade. In the process the force knocked him to the ground, leaving him vulnerable to attack.

Lena
Meanwhile Lena was on the left flank leading the battle mages on the front lines. Around her Tasharan mages hurled fire balls or ice at their opponents, killing as many demons as possible. However, soon a robe covered demon stood in front of them, a dark form of energy swirling around his fingers. Lena felt a cold sense of dread as she felt her mind grow cloudy. She felt a disturbing sense of rage as ice started to grow on her finger tips. Her sense of control was slipping, and she felt compelled to kill indiscriminately.

An internal voice began to scream, Snap out of it!, and she managed to do that just before losing consciousness entirely. She didn't know exactly what was happening to her, but it was clear who the source was.

"Mages! Kill that demonic sorcerer!" She shouted, pointing her blade at the target.

[Absolon-7]

Neferis Lahari

Rudolph Thorbecke
Rudolph nervously gulped as he tightened his grip around his sword as he hoped this person wasn't about to start some fight in the middle of an entire army. Worse comes to worse he'd be blamed for it and get thrown to the wolves and slightly less worse would be if whoever was in charge did something dumb like blame lay the blame on both of them equally. When it came to foes of great skill he needed time to prepare a plan otherwise he'd risked needless energy. Thankfully, it seemed Chtholes was looking out for him that day as a crass womanly voice called out to him from behind. Rudolph back-stepped away from the diminutive stranger and turned to look at the owner of the new voice. Despite its tone what met Rudolph's eyes was a quite stunning woman with bewitching lavender colored hair. The most prominent features that she had however were her lupine ears and large bushy tail indicating her to be a beast-folk variety.

"Of course. There's no Slayer that isn't confident in their skills. Sorry, but it looks like I'll have to take my leave," said Rudolph to Neferis and then to the stunted person. Thank goodness my visor is down for more then one reason....He turned fully to Neferis and continued on with an informative tone, "I can come with you right now but I'll have to let you know I sent my crow to scout the enemy positions from the sky. It shouldn't be long until he returns to relay their locations. We should be able to learn if the castle is surrounded or not as well."