Exalted: Age of Sorrows (IC)

[Woodstovia]

Aerion Brightwater

He should have known there would be noble scions from the Great Houses sniffing around the camps. The Great Houses were giant, complex things with hundreds of distant cousins, nephews, and uncles who would do anything for a slice of recognition. He could see why they'd be attracted to a military campaign. And why a weakling from such a house may be attracted to selling herbs and plants rather than riding off into battle.

Aerion examined the badge he was offered by the man and, after determining that the badge was authentic gave the man a bow. his courtiers followed suit with the lesser-born kneeling before the newcomer.

"Apologise my lord. With all the frantic comings and goings and the stress of a battle, I pray you will forgive me for not recognising your likeness earlier." A Ledaal. They were a family of monks and priests with blackened knees from kneeling to the gods so often. Aerion found it strange he hadn't seen the man in the temple earlier, but then again there were multiple temples within the city and the temple was busy so he could have easily just missed him. "Please help yourself to our food and fire. I hear that even House Vai's nobles are surviving on watery gruel and tough black bread but mine own stores are more generous. You may stay for as long as you wish."

A flash of anger shone in Aerion's eyes as the man began chastising him on the value of his serfs. He really means to barge into my tent and he thinks himself worthy to give me lessons on my own subjects and conduct of a lord? Him? Who'd never even ruled for a day in his life? Aerion fought desperately to maintain his beautiful smile as he shook his head.

"No my Lord, I'm sorry for misleading you. It was a simple jest. Of course, no life can be expended so flippantly. My subjects are mine to protect and defend at all times. It was meant figuratively. Our House needs to share equally in the pain of battle so that we may receive what we deserve. Although a few dead serfs would mean a few less mouths to feed which may be a great relief to all our logisticians." he laughed prettily which encouraged the entire court to suddenly erupt in roars of laughter. Aerion swept to the benches behind him and ushered Eugeni with him. "My chef Cao cooked these pork dumplings, they're to die for. Come have a few."

[Luminesa]

Eugeni - A Feast Baked in Blood

Eugeni was more relieved than pleased to see that Aerion and his men were now bowing to him. He did not wish to lord over others, but he did wish for other princes to approach him seriously. He gave a kind smile to the captain by his side, who still seemed rather miffed by the impression they had received from House Brightwater. “Do not worry, Lang. All is well,” he whispered. His captain still did not feel quite the same way, but he listened to his Lord and untensed his back.

“Thank you kindly for your offer of hospitality, Prince Aerion. I am always grateful for the generosity of other Houses...We must strive, after all, to act as one against such a powerful foe...” the Ledaal Noble addressed the prince. He himself was quite the elegant figure, and he almost seemed to glide across the floor as he walked to see the food. While the smells and colors were exquisite, he could not help but feel something was off. Indeed, the rest of Lethlinberg ate rations and slept with angry stomachs while House Brightwater dined on such succulent pork dumplings.

Lang gave them a cold look, even as they looked quite delicious and his stomach grumbled for sustenance. He gave his Lord a side-long glance. “Might want to check for poison,” he whispered in Watertongue. Even if Eugeni saw goodness in Prince Aerion, a less meek Noble would have seen the toxic glint in glint in his eyes, and all of the Houses were jockeying for power. He nudged Eugeni’s arm, giving the appearance that he wanted his Lord to try them.

Eugeni stared down at the dumplings, and he grabbed a couple. “...If it does not bother you, dear Prince, I shall take some of these to share among myself and my House. We are grateful for such warm and enticing foods, and thank you for updating us on your medical stock. May the Scarlet Empress protect you,” he responded, with another kind bow. He then walked out of the tent with a small bundle of dumplings. He used his Air Aspect, not just to sniff them, but to get a whiff of any poison or harmful substances Aerion’s cooks had hidden in the puffy pastries.

[Antimersia]

Medi Munkii

Medi is sprinting through the streets, following soldiers he sees along the way in hopes of sensing Gregor's shape once again. The dense streets are thinning as soldiers direct citizens to their homes and shelters. Medi gets lost following troops more than once. He know what a troop looks like in his senses, but he isn't able to discern the emblems on them. He even asks several soldiers for directions but they all just tell him to go back to the shelter. Ignoring them Medi presses on in his search. He luckily followed troops of house Ledaal eventually, following them right to where Gregor is relaying orders from. Medi is so excited and running so fast that he can't fully stop himself before reaching Gregor and bumping into him as he turns towards Medi. The slick snow, melted by the heat of his bare, calloused feet, made him hydroplane a few feet across the stone.

"I'm sorry Lord Gregor. I haven't actually seen snow before. I'm not used to how it is to run through. Although the wind that comes with it is doing wonders for my senses!" Medi says apologizing to the taller man. "Oh I slept great! Azrellia is still sleeping, but I'm sure she'll be up soon! All I need is a bo staff. I'm here to help fight however I can!" He exclaimed excitedly. Medi bounced lightly on the balls of his feet in front of Gregor waiting for his response.

[Imperialisium]

Siege of Lethlinburg

Screams. Panic. Civilians not huddled in their homes flooded inward in an attempt to get away from the fierce artillery duel between the Imperials and Northern invaders. Arrows cast brief flitting shadows as the forces of the bull advanced. Ladders, hooks on one side to anchor them in place, docked at the walls. Northmen braving the ferocious Imperial missile fire doggedly advanced despite the bodies of fallen comrades dotting the snowy fields. Teams of missile troops fired and advanced with men carrying large wooden barriers for their compatriots to hide behind. While for the Eastern and Southern gates trundled forth battering rams. Two hefty trees with mighty trunks having been felled and lowered on metal chains. Hanging within its wooden awnings to protect it from missile fire. The tops and side affixed with bits of water soaked hide to keep incendiaries at bay. The waterlogging forming ice inhibiting burning and charring of the wood.

On the walls Silisa's Regiment had been assigned a section just South-west of the Eastern Gate. Quickly finding itself stuck in with repelling the invaders scaling the ladders. Axes and maxed crushed through helmets. Swords cleaved exposed necks. Javelins hurled from the defenders sank deep into the shields and sides of their assaulting foe. Chaos. That is what war truly was. A barely organized chaos of swirling death and destruction.

Fresh volleys of artillery ordinance. Fresh screams as a shrine spire was struck. Masonry falling to streets below. Silisa herself would have a close call by a particularly short shot that pulverized through a crenellated. In a second four men vanished with the small boulder of a missile fired by the enemy siege engine cleaved through the battlement and into the city streets beyond. Similar scenes played out along the Mahajan, Ledaal, Emberton, and other sections of wall manned by other Houses. Cathaks fought alongside Ragarans, Mnemons with Cynis, in this situation all that mattered was who is Imperial, and who isn't. All the while the remaining Ducal troops had been withdrawn to act as fire brigadiers and shepherding civilians to better positions, or to secure vital stores of food and fresh water.

Outside the walls the cavalry had wrought a path of broken bloody corpses and burning tents. The banner of Merzeillon, the territory that Barisan and his fellow Knights hailed from, one of the vassals of House Vai, proudly whipping in the crisp winds as the center turned right away from the previous vanguard who had gone left. Over running the Northern sector of the enemy siege lines. Barisan lowered his lance alongside his compatriots as they thundered into a weak formation of frantic and desperate Northmen. Leaning up and forward at the last moment to brace he felt his lance strike a man in the neck. Opening up his throat in a gout of crimson ichor. Releasing his grip he drew his sword as the cavalry flattened the weak unit's thin line. Not having the mass and weapons to stop the heavy horses charge. Shields splintered, men were battered down under heavy hooves, or rammed to earth by the powerful musculature of an armored warhorse. Holding his sword aloft he indicated to break right once more. Circling now towards the walls as he looked to fall in with the other cavalry formations.

At the central citadel Zara watched the fighting on the walls and the cavalry with equal interest. Her commanding position allowed her to survey the countryside around the city for some leagues in any direction. She smiled as entire battalions of infantry and what seemed to be much of the Bulls cavalry were breaking from cover in the forests and woods to surge Northwards to combat her cavalry. A foolish chase. The cavalry could retreat to the walls before the enemy formed up for a charge if need be. It was a friendly countryside for that matter too. If cut off the cavalry could pull away for the day for rest before punching through another section of the lines. Which, even if not the enemy would now have to have thousands of men positions to repel an external threat. Critically weakening them in the event she decided to actually sortie with the main force of the army to shatter their encirclement.

"Look!" An officer pointed to the North-East and Zara squinted. Raising her spyglass her smile faded. There, cresting the horizon were six sky ships. While scarcely of size and tonnage to match the Imperial Sky Navy she had nothing in the air to counter it. The Dawnlight was still out on its extended mission to the Far North. "Redeploy all Lightning Ballistae to aim at those sky ships. Ballistae and trebuchet in the North and East are to angle to engage them as best they can. Archers and Arbalests prepare to volley fire. They will try to land troops from the air to compromise our defenses." Zara rolled the orders off of her tongue with lightning precision. Her spyglass trained at the new threat on the horizon. Each craft was roughly identical but clearly made by different shipwrights. Roughly fifty meters long apiece and studded with ballistae. They were swift yet not heavily armed. Yet, as Zara could clearly see their was much activity on the decks. This was an aerial assault operation. Probably to try and strike at one of the gate houses, opening the way for the besiegers to pour in all they had through compromised defenses. Or worse land within the city and take fortified areas. Pockets of resistance within the city itself would be most troublesome.

[Luminesa]

The Siege - Bombs Away

Tension painted the air as everyone positioned themselves to enter the fray as they would. Shan Yui went up to the top of the wall with some of his men, and this time Eugeni went with him. They spread themselves along the wall, in case one was attacked and the other needed to intervene. Shi stayed with the archers, who were poised to attack the Bull's forces, should they break through the charge. Eugeni had not stood along this wall before, and looking down from such a height into the ravenous fields of snow gave him a chill in more ways than one. He hugged his arms, but when he looked to his cousin and his general, who noted his nerves, he straightened his posture and took a deep breath.

Daana was hungover, and Gregor knew it the moment he took a look at him along the wall. His eyes muttered, "I told you so," and Daana's responded, "Shut up." They also spread themselves along the wall, and Mahajan's army was quite glad to see their fearless leader standing with them this time. The greying old assassin's eyes glittered with the color of bloodthirst, and he looked quite ready for a fight. He had not liked missing the previous battle, and today he would make-up for his absence. "...Keep an eye out for the Bull's forces if they break through the charge. I imagine they're going to bring reinforcements this time..." he murmured to Daana, before they had separated.

"I do hope you said a prayer for Navid down there, did he actually volunteer for the cavalry?" Daana questioned.

Gregor turned to him and gave a smirk. "I promised him something if he survived."

"Oh, what's that?"

"I don't know, are you Navid?"

"Ohhhhhh playing coy, aren't we? If you promised him alcohol it better be actually worth the hangover," Daana grumbled, though he gave a grin to his leader before walking in the opposite direction.

Eugeni, on the other hand, closed his eyes and said a prayer as he saw the cavalry ride out through the snow. The dawn's light had just barely fallen over the land. A chilly breeze passed over the walls, and the Ledaal noble asked Mela's blessing to be upon them. When he opened his eyes, the battle started with a crashing force sailing toward the walls. Artillery shook the walls and their towers, and the Imperial Forces knew they had to attack. They could not wait for the cavalry to make their move. On the other hand, because the Bull's forces were already aiming for the wall, they were not focusing on the Imperial cavalry as it rumbled toward them. The archers near Shi began to launch their counter-assaults, all while struggling to keep on their feet. Battering rams made the earth quake below, and the Exalted taking part in the battles had to re-position themselves to aim at the attackers below them.

Shan Yui continued the arduous task of slashing down soldiers that tried to climb over the walls. He ordered his men to do the same, and some archers managed to spear incoming enemies between the eyes with well-shot arrows. While Shan was not one to press his luck, he was definitely glad that the Bull's army had not seemingly learned their lesson from the previous day's battle.

"IN THE SKY!!!! LOOK UP!!!"

A scream sounded from one of Ledaal's captains, and everyone's eyes set toward the airships that were also heading toward Lethlinberg. They were flying slowly toward the walls, six of them, harbingers of death from above.

Gregor's eyes widened, not only with shock but with excitement. Such an enormous threat held an enormous prize for their defeat. He smirked at Daana from across the walls, as he had waited for a time to attack while his men slashed at enemies. A couple of Exalted had even been aiming at the ladders and were burning them down, giving their leader some time to think of a plan. "...We don't have the airships necessary to fight that...so we might as well try the next best thing, shouldn't we?" Both Gregor and Daana screamed for their men to aim any and all catapults at the airships, knowing that if they made their way to the city they would cause catastrophic damage. Yet the Mahajan leader did not wish for his men to have all of the fun aiming to shoot them down.

"Let's see if I can't punch a hole in one of them..." His eyes examined them as they sailed, and he noted that they were rather lacking in armor. He smirked, and a dragon's growl sounded from around him. He held back his fist, as if he was going to lob a punch, and he thrust it forward after a few still seconds. A stream of flames shaped like an angry red dragon launched from his fist, and screeched across the sky. One airship took a hit near the bottom, while at least two or three cannonballs crashed into the front of one. He gave another grin as he saw a fireball shoot past him from the other side of the wall, blasting into the airship next to it. Daana was already laughing.

"Better cure for a hangover than any meal or cold shower, am I right?!" Ever the performer, the general boasted and his men cheered. They had never faced a challenge like this, and with a variety of ladders burned to the ground, they gladly aimed their offenses at the ships in the sky.

Eugeni was not as certain about how to fight such enemies, as the ships were enormous and he did not usually use his Magic to hit large targets. He took out his fans from his pockets, however, and as Shan Yui began to focus efforts on taking down both the battering rams and the ships, he figured he should use his skills to boost his army's morale. Robins chirped, much less intimidating for the Bull's men unless they caught a glimpse of his eyes. They glowed a bright gold, the color of exploding fireworks, and the gentle breezes around him whipped into a frenzy. He caught them in his fan, and twirled in place as he guided them to launch at the ships. A huge gale slashed at the fabric of a third ship, and cannonballs continued to slam them. Ledaal's army cheered as they saw Eugeni make an attack, despite the anxiousness he had attempted to mask.

He recalled Shi's words as his first shot landed, and he looked at the men still rattling the bones of the walls with battering rams. These men had come to fight and to die. And they would take any Imperial soldier they could take with them on the way down. They would not look at Eugeni with love or mercy. He steeled his gaze, even as a soldier looked up and noticed him standing directly above them. Hazel eyes. His long, muscular arms were wrapped tight around the battering ram. The Ledaal noble wondered if he had held a young woman at home with those strong arms. Yet the Bull's soldier's teeth were clenched, his eyes were full of hate, and he was about to scream something to his compatriots. "UP ON THE-"

A slash of wind met his neck, separating his head from his body. The battering ram fell over his body as it collapsed like a log, his eyes still wide-open in shock. Eugeni's fan had left its indelible mark, and had sealed the man's fate. A man beside him had also taken a wound to the neck, and he was writhing on the ground.

Shan Yui saw the attack, and his own eyes grew large with shock. Such a vicious attack from the same gentle, affectionate young man who had embraced him earlier this morning. He knew that the young Noble's eyes hid the pain of making that decision to end a soldier's life. Yet he would have to live with it. The airships were attacking, and Shan Yui himself was busy cutting men down from their ladders and ordering the artillerymen to keep firing. Hell raged onward.

[Revlona]

Silisia

"War is hell," That is what all the blooded soldier of Silisias regiment would tell her and the other still untested soldiers, that was all they would say as they gazed far away as if searching some deep and forbidden memory. Silisia would have to disagree, war was worse than hell. In the time that she had stood atop the walls she had killed half a dozen men with her own hand, plunging her blade into most before they could even leave the ladders or scaling ropes. She had seen others die in worse ways, a dozen of the attackers burned to a crisp when a nearby Dragon Blood flicked his hand at them, 3 men died in the blink of an eye when a stone thrown from half a mile away smashed through them only two feet from Silisia.

She had almost died twice since then, once when an arrow deflected off the side of her helm and richocheted off somewhere into the city, the second when she had slipped on a patch of blood which had been frozen. She had been helpless beneath the axe of a northerner but had been saved by a comrades timely spear thrust. She had quickly regained her footing and had rejoined the fight.

The skyskips in the distance had become a cause for concern but no orders had come so she had shoved the thoughts aside. Her attention was jerked away from the fight as a symphony of screams and roars echoed through the ever constant drum of battle. She looked to her left in horror as a dozen men went down on the wall, arrows taking them all. In hindsight she would realize it was a coordinated attack to clear a section of the wall but at the time she had not real thought to spare on that, instead she simply hefted her blade and let out a cry as she charged towards the open section of the wall as northerners began to swarm onto it.

Time seemed to slow as she charged, she noticed four or five members of her file had joined her in the charge and another half dozen men on the other side of the open section had done the same. The Northerners had reached about fifteen men by the time they reached them and were lead by a very large man with thick black hair and two wicked looking hand axes, one in each hand. Just as they were about to begin the quick and bloody fight, two of the northerners fell, arrows sprouting from them. The arrows had come from inside the wall and she guessed that several archers inside the wall had noticed what was happening and had loosed at the enemy.

The two sides came together with a brutal clash, war crys cut off or quickly replaced by screams of pain or terror. Silisia dispatched the first man with a quick and clean thrust through the belly before using the momentum to shove him over the wall. She then turned and caught the downward stroke of an axe on her shield, she deflected the head down and took the wielders hand off at the wrist with her blade, she then shoved him down with her shield as he screamed in pain before cutting the scream off with a quick stroke through his throat.

The next man that came at her stumbled and fell, another arrow protruding from his back as he went weightless and slammed into the walls stone floor, his momentum making it a devastating crash. She turned and found herself almost alone on the open section of the wall, the only person other than her was the leader of the northerners, the man with the two axes. She heard the shouts from below and watched as the man deftly dodged and arrow as it whizzed past his face. She allowed herself a glance around and realized that any further reinforcements would take to long to reach her and she knew that she need to clear this section of the wall quickly or more northerners would mount it.

With this in mind she charged at him, meaning to shove him with her shield and dispatch him like she had done with the second man. Instead she found herself quickly on the defensive, her shield splintering cracking under a barrage of the heavy blows from the man. Terror gripped her as she realized she had nothing she could do under this quick and devastating onslaught so when another arrow flicked by and forced him to take a step back she breathed a sigh of relief. She dropped the now ruined shield and took her blade in both her hands, she preferred to fight with her blade in both hands but the protection from missiles the shield provided was to useful.

The circled eachother now, his eyes narrowed as their thoughts mirrored. He needed to kill Silisia in order to secure the section and she needed to do the same to him. She knew the man before her was the superior warrior and she would be relying on luck and the support of the archers below to win this. With this in mind they both moved at nearly the same time, Silisia moved her blade up and then brought it down, attempting to slash him from right shoulder to left hip. With a deft bit of footwork the man slipped the strike and brought his own blades at her. She turned towards him and allowed to blades to strike, her turn making the strike awkward as they glanced off her armor.

The end to the fight came suddenly and without much fanfare, as his blades were deflected he jerked back again, another arrow slicing the air in front of him. As he stepped back he slipped on a patch of ice much like Silisia had earlier in the day. He regained his feet as quickly as any experienced warrior would but it was already to late. Silisia was upon him and with a efficient slash of her blade had opened his belly. A second slash was all it took to remove his head and for the fight to be over.

Silisia looked around her, her comrades were almost to her and archers from other sections of the wall had cleared the ladders beneath the open section. With that thought in mind Silisia sank to her knees as a wave of overwhelming exhaustion hit her. It was almost as if her body was reacting to how close she had come to death for the third time in so quick of a fashion. She would leave the rest to her comrades she thought as her eyes close and she fell forward onto her face, unconscious but victorious.

[Woodstovia]

Lucien Brightwater

A cold chill stabbed at Lucien's chest through his segmentata and he shivered in front of his soldiers. He had been used to campaigning in the south where lush grasslands hid the endless burning sands to the south. The men and women there would march shirtless and battle was most likely at dawn or dusk for the heat was too oppressive during the afternoon for armies to fight. He wasn't used to the north and he couldn't say he enjoyed this place. He glanced at the cavalry which accompanied him. All were raised directly from Brightwater lands and were used to the rolling meadows, light forests, and sleepy streams of their homeland. Like him, they were shivering and rubbing and pinching their faces in the hope that their blood would heat them up. Perhaps it would be an encouragement. He thought grimly. Perhaps the promise of movement and the heat battle would bring would encourage them to throw themselves into the thick of it.

His brother should have never come here. He could see the sense in some victories to raise their family's status, and the promise of booty and riches to bring back home. But they were far from home and there was no telling what was happening in their lands, or if the men there would hold. Xunzi was ever a loyal brother, but what of the castellan or the officers left in charge? If House Emberton had any sense it would have invaded their lands the second Aerion sailed away, but the fools had followed them, pledging their swords to the same cause. He should have waited. He knew the poison in Aerion's blood but he was charming and handsome and good at dancing. He could have attended social events, and bribes some officials, rebuilt House Brightwater's agents and embed their power into the system. Then perhaps when he had ruled a few years and was more secure, and some issue broke out closer to home Aerion could ride off and take the spoils. Any victory here was Lady Vai's anyway. He wasn't sure House Brightwater would even be mentioned in the footnotes the scholars wrote of this siege. But his brother had made his decision, and Lucien was determined Aerion wouldn't kill himself by trying to march into a blizzard or some other ridiculous idea. So he'd hold his hand and walk him through the war and keep him grounded.

Courtnay Lightrose was his second in command and would carry his Lord's standard into battle. Lucien did not like that. He wanted his brother to live of course but he needed to fight with his men, be seen by them, cement himself as someone worth dying for, spread tales of his heroism far and wide. And he wouldn't mind having an Exalted fighting beside him either.

One of House Vai's officers gave the signal by waving a flag and the cavalry mounted. Lucien could see the sun barely poking through the horizon as he threw his leg over his horse and shuffled into a comfortable position on his saddle. He had 800 men, and didn't know why Aerion thought it fit to leave behind a third of his cavalry. About 250 were cataphracti: heavily armoured from head to toe. They formed his first wedge and would be sent against any organised formation. The lighter horsemen had javelins and spears but also torches they would use to set the enemy's tents alight while they slept.

Lucien dug his heels into his horse and urged it forwards as the great doors of Lethlinburg swung open and chill winds swept through his force as they began to ride. We have them! He realised suddenly as he approached. They had barely set out scouts and the first horn sounds which would alert the Bull's men that they were coming weren't sounded until he was riding past the first tent.

Torches were hurled at every tent within throwing distance, with the leather bursting into flames. Men and women occasionally ran out screaming and some horsemen threw their torches and waited at the entrance, stabbing at anyone who tried to escape, most being in some state of undress with sleep still in their eyes. Further ahead however the Bull's spears were forming shield walls. They were faster and better organised than most enemies he'd fought against and Lucien gave the signal for the cataphracti to form a wedge around him.

The wooden shields of the spearmen snapped and splintered as an armoured wave rolled over them, their spears glancing harmlessly off of thick steel. The cataphracti's lances slammed through necks and chests. Lucien could hear the thudding of impacts, the snap of bones and lances, and the wails of the dying around him, his nostrils filling with smoke and blood. An infantryman tried grabbing at his destrier Sabre's reigns but the horse reared up and its hooves made a sickening crunch as they smashed the man's head.

Soon the enemy was broken, the lighter horse pursued, impaling some with spears and peppering those who were faster with javelins. Across the lines forces from other houses such as Vai and Emberton had cleared out more of the Bull's men, and the battlefield suddenly turned into an auction with the dead being stripped of their valuables and the smouldering wrecks of tents being picked through for silver goblets and cutlery, and well-crafted swords. Lucien sat back in his saddle, watching the battlefield. A scout told him that the Bull was sending men northward, withdrawing from the cover of the woods to intercept their forces. Good. Well not for us but still good. The plan is working.

Lucien sent the scout back, with orders to return to him when the Bull's reinforcements were closer. Then he'd reform his army but with the cold, his men and women had struggled through to get here he wouldn't deprive them of their spoils of war. But he had heard rumours. Trolls, and beasts and worse. The fury of the ice marching against them. The forces here were not The Bull'sstrongest. They were in the open with little natural protection, disposable footsoldiers he had been comfortable risking in pursuit of a greater prize. Most of the light horse were green. Throwing torches into the tents of sleeping men and women was different from charging a troll and he was unsure how they'd react when they had to fight for real.

His mind suddenly snapped into focus, as his ears noticed the thrumming of propellers. When he looked up his worst fears were confirmed. But he couldn't ride a horse into the heavens to match it. All he could do was stay here. All he could do was his duty. He hoped that Lady Vai knew what she was doing.

[Imperialisium]

Siege of Lethlinburg

One airship began to bleed fragments of wood and timber as it was struck by lucky shots from artillery. Another two had scorch marks on their hulls from the fireball strikes. But the winds from the Ledaal did little to buffet them given the distance. Merely causing turbulence. The crews of the airships, having watched one of their own perish as it plowed into the snowy fields below them, adjusted their rigging. The airships rose in the air, gaining altitude, swiftly going out of reach from Gregor and Daana's fire based attacks. While also being out of range of the artillery. Zara could only grit her teeth at this situation.

The fighting on the walls was especially ferocious now. Enemy forces piling in from over forty ladders while the battering rams continued to impact the gates despite the casualties of the crew. Where one fell another enemy soldier came to pick up the slack. "Bring it down!" Came officers cries as they hurled javelins and let loose arrow and bolt upon the foe below them. While infantry fought with sword, mace, and axe in a growing melee across the walls and towers. The cobblestone running slick with blood and gore.

One of the rams went silent as another ferocious Imperial exalted attack scythed down several more crew. Only to be answered by bellowing cries from a pair of trolls who swiftly advanced. Their guttering, loping, strides impacting the snow with louds crunching cracks. They clasped the battering ram in their gnarled grips and with a violent heave they smashed it against the walls. Finally, the Southern gate buckled. Its wooden timbers splintering as a hole was made. Then a wider hole, then with a wailing grown it was bashed open. The Portcullis stood in the way. The trolls moved in, their strong clubs ending in tough iron heads, and they swung. The Portcullis, stronger than any man's arm, dented inwards. Boiling water, poured by the defenders, struck the trolls but to no avail. Their thick hides saving them from the scalding heat. A dozen more hammer blows fell. The Portcullis warped and the iron tore away. Unable to keep shape from the incessant, brutish, assault. It fell to the ground with a clang.

War horns blared and the Northmen surged to storm through the Southern Gate into the awaiting ranks of the defenders.

Meanwhile, outside the city walls the cavalry formations were reforming. The enemy had diverted entire battalions to them but refrained from engaging. Seemingly satisfied to stare their opponents down from seven hundred meters away.

Citadel

Zara gripped her spyglass like iron manacles. She furrowed her brow. "Deploy reserves to the gates!" She commanded. Handing her spyglass off to an officer as she paced away until she was several meters from everyone else. Clasping her hands in a martial pose she breathed in and out slowly. Feeling the fire kindling within her. Begging to be unleashed in full fiery glory. Zara swung her hands suddenly as she broke into an abrupt sprint then with a stamp of her left foot surged upwards. Propelled by her blue flames rocketing into existence beneath her feet. Sending her in a violently aggressive, yet smooth, arc upwards. Coming up over the lip of one of the airships hull her flames died. Bringing herself into a hard roll she hit the deck. Coming to a rise as she drew her blade. Rending a shocked crew mate from groin to throat. He was dead before hitting the deck, and Zara was already moving. Swinging around in a graceful swipe and repose she opened another man's throat. Coming into a high guard, then a downward swipe as she evaded and entered her third opponents defense. Her third victim. His death cry sounding behind her as she picked up the pace. Advancing rapidly aft while the crew and soldiers on board finally realized what was going on and charged her. Weapons levelled.

At first it seemed Zara was going to meet them head on. Then within mere meters she stabbed her blade into the deck and with the grace of trained martial artist she swung her legs around. Balls of thermal fury channeling from her essence to unleash a slashing wave of incandescent blue fire. Men screamed. Cried. Flesh and sinew ionizing against the sheer heat of her fire. Catching clothing and flesh alight in immediate combustion as the air behind the ionized first rankers rose to over four thousand degrees in but seconds. Zara like a graceful fiery serpent hacked her way up the aft castle steps and with merciless fury brought her blade down to sever the helmsmans fore arms from his body. His mouth still agape at the devastating scene he had bore witness too.

Kicking the man in the knee, removing bone from socket, blood still spurting from stumps. She took the wheel and gave a hard right pull. Spinning it rapidly to the right. Rigging shifting right to left as the airship swung. Disrupting the formation as its neighbor tried to evade, too late. Prow met side as Zara's captured airship smashed into its neighbor with a shower of splinters. The scion of House Vai was already moving. Grasping a rope line she swung over and up. Sailing over the splintering second ship as it began to sank lower in altitude, entering its own death dive. The rope line came to its terminus and she let go. Free falling forward she released a kick. An airbrake of fire as she landed onto the third airship deck. Aura swirling as a Dragon coiled itself into existence around the Last Scion of House Vai's direct line.

The crew and soldiers on board made to run until a shout from their rear gave them pause. Zara moved into a low guard. Dragon snarling. As a lone woman stepped into view. The four pronged star of The Bull marked in gold on her brow. A spear in her hand and long hafted, bronze, mace at her hip. Zara readied herself into a ready position. Her opponent doing the same. Eyeing one another. Amber gilt eyes meeting piercing auburn. The woman's fiery red hair tucked into long braids. Her scale mail over a muscles form. A crew man handed her a bronze helmet and she slid it on and reversed the grip of her spear in a lightning move.

Whistling air! Zara spun. A loud thunk audibly erupted behind her as the steel of the spear head embedded itself into the wood behind her. Her opponent was upon her, Mace sailing towards her face as its head wreathed itself in manifesting flame...

[Luminesa]

Burning Down the House

More artillery crashed into the airships before they flew away, while Daana and Gregor sought to preserve their own firepower. Daana had killed a man and stolen his axe, which was not necessary because he had two, but disarming any opponent was a victory for him. Gregor had his longsword, and he strolled along the walls slashing down anyone who came close. His experience with death made him view the affair as almost a training exercise for some time. He did not keep count of the numbers he had slain, but his soldiers were surprised at the number of enemies' bodies they had to kick off the walls. With the airships damaged somewhat, and with a pile of bodies quickly building in the snow, they also looked to topple the ladders that allowed them to climb.

"Yo, ho, blow the man down! Yo ho, blow the man down! Give me some time to blow the man down!" Daana chanted, as he kicked emptying ladders down into the snow with some help from his men. Gregor rolled his eyes, though he was relieved that his hangover had not dulled his morbid humor. He whirled around to face more soldiers, and braced himself as an enormous figure raced for him. A troll, wielding a giant tree of an axe, screamed in his face and swung for him.

Gregor rolled out of the way of a blow which would have shattered him like glass, and he glared as he held his longsword ready. A troll was almost impossible to wear down, and if he was anyone else, he would have thought Shan Yui directly engaging another troll nearby was an insane move. Yet the Mahajan general was fearless, and his wine-colored eyes narrowed as he centered on a chance to spill blood. He jumped on top of the troll's giant axe, which he could have easily swung to throw the man far into the snow. Yet as he was now in the troll's face, he aimed right for the eyes. His sword made a wide arc, and the creature was blind. As it flailed and screamed, he shot a small fireball into its mouth, choking it and causing it to fall back into the depths. Just in time, the Mahajan general backed off and then rolled onto the wall, his armor clanking as he stood to take a breath. "...And stay down..." he murmured.

At that second, however, a mighty groan echoed from the Southern gate. The casualties Mahajan and Ledaal had brought were about to meet a match in the shape of a battering ram finally crashing through the back door of Lethlinberg. The Bull's army began to flood in, and the reserve armies charged from their stations to meet them. Yet the Bull's forces were still enormous, and they had planned this attack. They had a serious advantage, now that they had made their way inside. Gregor felt himself break a sweat, but he had to keep his calm. He barked orders to his men, causing them to switch their focuses. "DAANA! THE SOUTHERN GATE. MOVE TOWARD THE SOUTHERN GATE. LIU WEI, THE WALLS. BREAK THE LADDERS, BREAK THEIR MEN. BREAK ANYTHING THAT COMES UP THOSE WALLS."

He brought a crowd with him to head to the edge of the South, in order to collaborate with Vai and Ledaal to finish this battle. They could not restrain themselves any longer, they had to throw all their forces at the enemies coming through the gate. Gregor continued to cut through soldiers without mercy, aiming for the bloody goal.

The Floodgates

Eugeni had never seen a siege develop like this. He was almost certain he had seen Zara launch herself up toward one of the airships, he had seen orcs and trolls rush the walls and batter men like training dummies, and now he saw the worst part. The Bull's army had crashed through the Southern wall, and was now rushing the city. Ledaal, Mahajan, and every other army was rushing to contain the deluge, and the streets were quickly filling with blood. He could feel himself on the edge of a breakdown, and his knees almost buckled at the sight. Yet someone managed to rush behind him, and he was forced to turn to see who had come to find him. To his relief, Gregor had rushed to grab his shoulders, and he felt a moment's relief. He remembered he was not fighting alone. "Lord Gregor!" he exclaimed.

"Move! Quickly! Do you value your men's lives, Eugeni?!" Gregor did not ask the question in a gentle voice. He had no time for the kindness he usually afforded his prized pupil, and he would apologize later.

"...Of course I do!"

"Then move as if they are seconds from killing your family! MOVE!"

Eugeni could not deny this command to keep on his feet, and as if a supernatural force had propelled him forward he rushed toward the Southern Gate. Shan Yui stayed behind to cut through more enemies, and as with yesterday he was hacking and slashing with grace and ease. His body still ached, but he had to push through it, just as his lord had to push through his terror at the sight of war. He ran until he stumbled upon a body, quite close to the edge of the Eastern wall. The traffic reaching the edge of the wall was phenomenal, but Mahajan gave Eugeni room to reach her as they slashed at any soldiers that climbed up the walls. That Shi was also busy helped, as archers continued to launch their deadly salvos at enemy troops. All of these sounds and stimuli made the Ledaal scion's heart pound, as he knelt next to the unconscious body he had found.

"Hey!"

One of the soldiers called to Eugeni, as he turned her over and noted that she was a young woman, sweating from exhaustion and still breathing. "Yes?" he answered the troop.

"Please hurry, she got herself hurt fighting an entire regiment. Not sure how she did it, but...well, we definitely need her back in the fight," the soldier responded.

Despite all of his terror, the Ledaal noble gave his best smile and nod. "Of course, I'll move as quickly as I can. I have a salve with me that should work." He pulled a tiny tub of balm out of a belt-pocket, and he held it under her nose. This same salve had revived Shan Yui, and he stayed by her until she was able to get to her feet. He could only watch as Gregor marched forward, staring into the sea of the Bull's soldiers far below. His eyes widened, as he saw a large fireball forming in front of him. That fireball became a dragon, which shot into the sky and then dove down on the opposing army. Their soldiers were now ablaze, including a few trolls, orcs, and White Walkers. Eugeni could only duck as he heard the roar of the flames streaking up and then down into the crowd, and he hoped that Silisia would get to her feet soon.

[Antimersia]

Medi Munkii
The Southern Gates

Medi had begun the siege, helping guide what few stragglers were left into their homes and shelters. Having lost his staff back before the voyage, he knew he was woefully unprepared to just jump right into a battle such as this. He had never perceived war. Battle certainly, but never full blown war. He sensed the men in their armor, with their sharpened weapons. Versus him, barefoot and in a tunic, not even with the staff that he usually wields. His place at the start would be to help secure the people who couldn't fight at all. That way every well armed soldier that could be in the fight was in the fight. The roars of trolls and other beasts that Medi had only ever heard stories off blasted into his ears. They were here to destroy. And yet, in truth, Medi spent a few brief moments even wondering if he had chosen to fight for the correct side in all of this. Of course there is not truly correct side in war. Merely the victor, the loser, and the story that is told in the aftermath. But Medi was more of an idealist than that. He saw good and bad, and the good within the bad and vise versa. At least, that is what he saw in people. This is war. In war, Medi so far only see bad. His mind drifts to Azrellia, prayers repeat in his head that are filled with hope for her safety in all of this.

Medi continues looking through the streets for anyone who isn't in some sort of shelter. By now though, they appear to be devoid of anyone not wearing armor. Medi thought this would lead to a feeling of relief, but it doesn't. The opposite in fact. Deep down he knows it was more his fear of getting into the fight that led him to focus on helping civilians than it was anything else. But, he wasn't ready to admit it to himself. In the past few weeks alone he had nearly died twice, and was borderline helpless to do anything about it either time. He knew he was strong, but for the first time he was shown just how much stronger people, and beings, in the world could be. It gave him cold feet. Or maybe that was just the snow on the street. That changed though, the moment the southern gate fell.

The wood splintered and several shards went flying as the enemy burst through the southern gate. Medi was several streets away towards the center of the city when it was breached. But he could still hear every bit of it. The second that wood cracked, his mind went almost blank. His instincts took over. Medi sprinted towards the gate. He kicked the street, expelling a powerful burst of air from his soul and launching him upwards to the roof tops. The snow on the streets is expelled away from him in all directions as he lifts off. He floats himself from rooftop, to rooftop. Arrows shot at soldiers on the ramparts that miss, whiz by Medi. Most striking the rooftops he passes as he approaches. His mind was so focused on getting to the gate to stop the advancing threats that the airships above the battlefield didn't even register in his mind. Lowered himself down off the rooftops, just a few meters beyond the scrum at the gate. He senses a pike on the street in front of him. It is a mere foot away from the corpse of a soldier littered with arrows. The pike is broken, removing a third of its length from the based. Thankfully, this makes it a good enough size for Medi to use in his old staff's stead. Medi had trained with spears in the past. So picking up the pike felt natural enough for him. Even it if clearly wasn't weighted properly for its current size and application. It would have to do though, as Medi leapt into action.

Medi began to spin the pike above his head. An orb of violently swirling air began to form around the tip. It grew in size and ferocity as it continues to spin. Quickly reaching the size of large watermelon, and swirling with the ferocity of a hurricane. Medi pushed himself up into the air with a jet of air emanating from the soles of his feet once more. While in the air Medi held the pike firmly in his hand and aimed it like a spear. focusing his senses on the gate itself and the defenders resisting the attempts by the invaders to fully break through into the city. Medi throws the pike, pushing it forward faster with wind and launching it through the gate at the invaders, a few feet from the front line. The spear does not strike any of the enemy soldiers. But that was not Medi's goal. It hits the ground between them. The instant that it does, the swirling orb of air expands almost instantaneously. Creating a dome like cyclone of concussive force. Soldiers at the front line for upwards of a five meter radius are violently pushed away from the point of the pike's impact. Those unlucky enough to be right by the impact sight are crushed by the sudden concussive force. those on the outer edges are merely knocked off their feet. But Medi hopes that is more than enough to allow soldier on the inside of the gate to kill enemies at the front line and push them back to keep them from breaking through. Even if only for a few moments longer.

[Parcia]

Arthur Breton
Xavier-Long Yang
The riders of Arimuhl Kahn
The Forces of House Breton

The smart thing would have been to keep a larger force on hand to quickly plug the gaps if any formed.

There was a gap, a Large one. Arthur watched from atop his war horse as the South Gate began to break and the nearest forces moved to try to stem the tide. Arthur raised his sword and called out to the men behind him. Arrayed down the street in formation stood 150 Northern Heavy infantry backed up by 300 long spear men. The Youthful archers of his sister’s handmaidens had been dispersed among the walls, while Yang his desert riders had formed alongside him and his men.

“Come one, you fucking dogs, do you want to let these Southern Pansies win all the glory!” His men roared in reply to the taunt and fallowed him down the road as he charged the enemy forces atop his Snow White steed, Godpiercer held high.

The one watches, and the one sees...

A soft voice, feminine, whispering in his ear...no, in his mind.

I do watch I need, little hero.

This one threw him for a loop. It was a male’s voice...and it terrified him in to a form of blind stupor. He humbled, the sword dropping from his hand just as he neared the battle that was forming near the South Gate. His men rushed passed him as he stared at the long sword as it lay on the cobble stones.

His ears rang, his mind hurt at the tones and fractured thoughts in his head. What was this... An armored hand reached out and picked up the sword. “My lord, y-you dropped this...are you alright?” One of his Knights held his blade aloft to him.

Arthur took his sword, gingerly, as if he was testing to see if that same thing was going to happen. Arthur shook his head and cleared his mind. “Forward, in tot he breech, clog it with their bodies!”

A renewed war cry rang out as the lines met and the Bretonni men reinforced the other house forces at the gate. Infantry guarding long spears as they lanced out to meet the enemy.

Twas a good day to fight.

[Luminesa]

Gregor and Eugeni - Bad Company

The fires rose from the bodies below, sending a horrific scent billowing through the air. Already the skies were full of the smell of iron and decay, but now burning flesh joined their dance once again. Eugeni found himself suppressing a gag, as he lowered his head and tried to focus on reviving the young woman lying on the ground. Standing not too far away, Gregor's coattails caught the wind and cinders, and his eyes caught the sight of death unfolding below. His student looked toward him for a few moments, and he almost seemed to glimpse his former teacher's smirk as he enjoyed the chaos. But that smirk did not last long. He whirled around and continued to fight other monsters, in particular facing the trolls that caused trouble for the younger soldiers.

Eugeni continued to crouch, and some of the enemy soldiers saw his position as a vulnerable one and decided to attack him. Drawing his fans, Eugeni kept his body over Silisia, guarding her from harm, and he slashed his fans through the air. One soldier screamed in a horrible agony-his legs had been sliced, and he fell into a corner of the wall writhing in pain. The other one tumbled off the other side into the crowd, down to a fiery death. The Ledaal noble could not watch as the man fell, but he could not look to the other side at the man bleeding from the nubs that were now his legs. Then again, all he needed was for someone to guard Silisia. He could not watch another enemy just bleed to death in front of him. He called over a Ledaal soldier, who hurried to follow orders and to watch the young girl.

Hurrying to the bleeding enemy soldier, Eugeni knelt down next to him, staring at him and his wounds.

"...Gonna...finish me off...aren't you?..." the soldier mumbled between groans of earth-shattering pain. "...Can't...move...gonna...kick me...off the wall..."

For a few seconds, the Ledaal noble felt his eyes glaze. Yes, stabbing him in the chest and ending him would have been merciful. Otherwise, he would have spent more time freezing and bleeding, his corpse a display for all to see. Yet he did not have such a will in his heart. Bloating corpses were a revolting image, and now he saw this man's eyes up-close. Deep violet. Beautiful. "...Give me a moment..." Eugeni dug in his pocket...and revealed a tiny container of ointment. The same one he used to heal Shan Yui's wounds. He gulped, and stared at the man's stunned face. "...This can...close the wounds...I'll need to-"

Had another second passed, Eugeni himself might have sustained a dangerous wound. As he held the ointment lovingly in his hand, the soldier sat upright and aimed a dagger straight for his face. The soldier's eyes were fierce, hungry for victory. The beautiful violets had become wisps of hell's flames. He gave a vicious grin, as the Ledaal noble felt something wet drip down the bridge of his nose. "...Heh...hold still, pretty boy..." He grabbed Eugeni's arm and took aim for his throat, but his dagger never landed. His mouth opened in a shriek, as a fireball met his face and caused him to writhe away in agony.

Turning back to see his savior, the young noble saw Gregor glaring down at both of them. The older man snatched Eugeni's arm and pulled him to his feet. "DO. NOT. HEAL. THE ENEMY," he snarled in a low murmur. "GET UP AND FIGHT, BEFORE THEY KILL YOUR KINSMEN." He shoved the young man back toward Silisia's position, leaving him numb. Warm blood dripped down his face. His hands shook, as he noted the scent of burning skin and the wailing behind him. He raised his fans. Violet eyes. A sharp dagger. Cruel eyes. He aimed at the man Gregor had burned, and slashed straight through his throat. Blood splattered on the now-dead troop, and on some of his companions. Seconds later, they themselves collapsed, their heads separated by the winds of the beautiful hand-fans. The Ledaal noble's eyes were steel, and he breathed ice and death as he turned back toward the fight.

Nobody, except Gregor, noticed the way his hands shook and clenched before each death.

[Revlona]

Silisia

In the stories and plays Silisia had seen and heard as a child and teenager, soldiers who had been wounded and revived would sit up suddenly, dragging air into their lungs in a quick gasp as they did so. Every one of them would do it, but one time when her uncle had been on leave from the Vai armies and had taken her to see one such play, he had said it was wrong. "You only see that when someone takes in a breath after not having taken any beforehand, soldier who have been resuscitated after drowning will do it, but otherwise no. A man would have to be dead or near death for such a reaction and I'm not sure their is any magic other than those most foul that can bring a man back from death," Her uncle had said, it was always something which I had stuck with her, even after the mans death.

Silisias eyes opened suddenly, tired in their movement as they rolled around in her head, trying to find something to lock onto. Eugeni was that something, the man standing over her protectively as his face dripped with a bit of blood. Her eyes narrowed as she looked at him, she had seen him before somewhere but couldn't remember when or where. That was when her eyes slid past Eugeni to Gregor, she recognized him immediately from the Bar the night before, "Shit, did I do something?" Silisia said, not realizing she had muttered it out loud. The men where standing over her in a protective manner and for the life of her she didn't know why, the last thing she remembered was the ground approaching her face after she cleared the wall.

She sat up, groaning in pain as her muscles screamed in protest. She looked around her and noticed the carnage which the young lord Euegeni had caused. "Uh...what happened?" She said, raising her voice and looking around at the people gathered around her. Not liking that none of her comrades were there, the only person in the group she recognized being Lord Gregor.

[Luminesa]

Silisia

In the stories and plays Silisia had seen and heard as a child and teenager, soldiers who had been wounded and revived would sit up suddenly, dragging air into their lungs in a quick gasp as they did so. Every one of them would do it, but one time when her uncle had been on leave from the Vai armies and had taken her to see one such play, he had said it was wrong. "You only see that when someone takes in a breath after not having taken any beforehand, soldier who have been resuscitated after drowning will do it, but otherwise no. A man would have to be dead or near death for such a reaction and I'm not sure their is any magic other than those most foul that can bring a man back from death," Her uncle had said, it was always something which I had stuck with her, even after the mans death.

Silisias eyes opened suddenly, tired in their movement as they rolled around in her head, trying to find something to lock onto. Eugeni was that something, the man standing over her protectively as his face dripped with a bit of blood. Her eyes narrowed as she looked at him, she had seen him before somewhere but couldn't remember when or where. That was when her eyes slid past Eugeni to Gregor, she recognized him immediately from the Bar the night before, "Shit, did I do something?" Silisia said, not realizing she had muttered it out loud. The men where standing over her in a protective manner and for the life of her she didn't know why, the last thing she remembered was the ground approaching her face after she cleared the wall.

She sat up, groaning in pain as her muscles screamed in protest. She looked around her and noticed the carnage which the young lord Euegeni had caused. "Uh...what happened?" She said, raising her voice and looking around at the people gathered around her. Not liking that none of her comrades were there, the only person in the group she recognized being Lord Gregor.

Eugeni - The Healer and the Harvester

Eugeni's hand-fans dripped with blood. His armor was speckled with crimson, and his boots were smeared with the ichor of dead enemies. They made a sickening splish, as he pivoted to look at Silisia. She had awakened, and looked shaken by the fact that she had gone unconscious during battle. She did not even remember falling. He watched Silisia sit upright slowly, gingerly, as if her bones were filled with lead and dropped onto the stony wall. His eyes met hers, and he noticed that she seemed to still be aching.

With fewer enemies surrounding him, he knelt in front of her again, folding his fans while he dug for another ointment. "...You...fell unconscious, miss, and...I did not wish for anyone to attack you in such a vulnerable state...Your armor signified that you were not one of the Bull's lieutenants...and I had heard that you were causing quite the stir a few minutes ago..." he explained, as he found a small tub in his belt-pouch. "...Here...this...is for aches and pains...it's not much...but it should help you to feel better swinging a sword around..." Even while covered in blood and specks of gore, he still kept his soft, gentle voice when speaking to a patient. He tried not to shake as he felt the back of her head and checked her for other injuries. "...Here. Hold onto this, apply where needed, perhaps give some to some of your men. It will help them as well as yourself..."

He smiled at her, and then whirled around. A blur of crimson, turquoise, and gold, his fans chopped through the neck of an enemy soldier without much effort. He shook some of the residual gore off the fan, and then turned back to Silisia. "Are you going to be alright?...We shall need you in the fight, if you are able," he urged her.

Gregor - Blind Faith

The Mahajan forces continued their blizzard of bloody warfare around the Ledaal noble and Silisia, and Gregor stood over the carnage he had rendered toward the soldiers near the ground. He had expected some blowback. He knew the soldiers would try to find their way into Lethlinberg, this time through another route. The airships were not expected, but they were being assaulted by artillery and Lady Zara. He figured she would be just fine killing the pilots of airships, and he chuckled to himself. He then waited to see who would rise from the ashes he had created below.

In the meantime, he found that another ally had joined them along the wall. An orb of wind and a whirling pike moved upward as if they were part of a flying apparatus. Underneath them was their pilot, a grinning and determined Medi. He soared up above the wall, and then landed a few yards away. The wind he had summoned exploded, throwing enemies in every direction. The scene was quite sudden and raucous, as the Bull's soldiers either crashed against walls or fell over them to their deaths. While he was wary about a blind warrior running along these crowds walls, Gregor could not help but smirk.

"...You have spunk, Medi, I have to give you credit for that much. Now how about you stab some of the men around Shan Yui and take a load off his back? He's killed a couple of orcs and I imagine he's getting tired again," he called to him. He hoped Medi would recognize his voice. If he was willing to fight, then Gregor would put him to work.

[Imperialisium]

Zara Azairya Vai

Zara parried, and side stepped. The flaming mace sweeping up and to the side. Zara shifted and swung a fist. Blue-purple fire erupting. Only to meet a wall of orange-yellow. Dragon-Blooded. The Bull had his own Princes of the Earth. The realization caused Zara's eyes to widen as she dropped under a heavy horizontal swing. Coming up to shove her opponent back a few steps. Both warrior women letting out a grunt as several meters of distance was created between them.

The woman charged, shield before her. Zara stepped forth, left first, then abruptly spun. A dazzling slash of flame forming an arc that whipped out. Crashing against the unsuspecting feet of the opponent. Blowing her back as her lower shield ionized. Bursting into fire. She swung the shield away. Its flaming form trailing overboard tendrils of smoke into the swirling battle below. Her opponent charged again. Flames erupting out of fist and in an impressive kick, her foot. Zara smashed the flames aside with her own elemental skill. Moving aside she chopped. The blade slit her greaves. Crushing a portion of the woman's shin as the starmetal sliced through the bronze of her greave like paper. The woman screamed as Zara released the hilt. Grappling her opponent as she crashed down. Armored arm immobilizing the arm holding the mace while she pulled on her opponents helmed to choke her with the chinstrap. She gurgled and gasped as the leather of the chin strap creased against her windpipe. A fierce elbow jab. But Zara was positioned to were it did not impact her with sufficient force to be felt through her cuirass. Flames sputtering in the woman's palm. Zara gritted her teeth.

Then the men on the ship charged. Zara whipped her head around and slammed her opponent back first into the ground. The back of her head smashing against the wooden planks. The other warriors on the ship, seeing their leader losing, had charged Zara all at once. Intent to brutally drown her in their blades. Zara breathed in. Sweeping into a wide stance. Working her hands into long elegant arcs, circles, and sharp straight motions. The air began to smell of ozone. Hair stood on end. Sweat sizzled as the temperature rose precipitously. Then crackling light. Electrical energy wreathed in Zara's palms until with a single loud thunderclap a bolt of lightning. Pure plasma energy channeled through her own power and will. Shot force with the speed of light. Smashing into the planks with such energy as to vaporize and split the wood. Reaching the ships core, for it had one similar to the Dawnlight if not much simpler. Much less stable. The abrupt infusion of power causing the core of the airship to suddenly go super critical. Zara wretched her blade free and jumped over the side. Rope in hand. Swinging wide as the ship exploded above her.

Kicking out, as the rope now part of a falling piece of hull, dropped wildly, fire flaring at the soles of her sabaton's. Slowing her descent just enough to crash into a snowbank without breaking her legs. Rolling into the snow drift as fragments of the hull crashed across the Eastern District.

Coming up to stand groggily she gasped. A piercing war cry. Above her the woman was falling, vectoring thrusts of flame slowing her descent, mace held high. Eyes wild with blood lust. Fiery red locks trailing behind her like a bloody cape. Zara dove away. The zealot of a Woman smashing into the snowbank. Her in experience costing her as she yelped and rose with a limp. She had broken one of her ankles. For it trailed behind her awkwardly. She raised her mace.

"You would be wise to surrender with honour," said Zara. Blade held in a low guard. Her Skytongue perfect and without accent.

She spat a curse at her. Something about sucking the cocks of giants. Colourful to say the least. Zara stalked forward, face steeled, her opponent swung. Zara batted the swing aside. Elegantly manipulating her blade into her opposing hand as she took a step away quickly, and sliced. To cut through mailed hands was generally very difficult, even with a starmetal blade, and she was still quite close with less force than would have been optimal. But it achieved the desired effect. Zara had shattered the woman's fore arms. Earning horrific ice creaking shrieks. Zara picked gripped the woman by the hair, for she was now helmetless, and pulled. Earning even more screams of agony as Zara dragged her kicking and screaming back several feet before releasing her. The woman was on her knees now. Arms trembling with limp hands. Zara stomped. The same leg she had wounded on the airship. Inflaming at injury as the woman wailed and reacted by flinging herself into the fetal position. Trying to edge her way away from Zara's own emotionless face. Zara moved calmly over to the dropped mace and picked it up. Noting it was unusually more elegant than many of the other Northmen weapons.

"A gift from your master? I had expected more. Shame."

The woman was muttering something now. A prayer perhaps? To what ever Gods she favoured? An ancestor for aid perhaps?

Zara stalked over to the woman. Spittle on her lips. Snot down her nose. Zara dropped her sword and hefted the mace over her head. The woman screamed and raised her limp wrists to shield her face. Crunch. Bones broke awkwardly. The woman howled spittle filled cries. Zara did not care and hefted it again, swung, smashing her destroyed arms aside. Blood coursing through the mangled metal of her mittens and vambraces. The woman was begging now. Zara kicked her between the legs with all the force of her armored sabaton could muster. The woman puked onto herself.

Zara swung the mace. Crunching her vomit covered mouth. Ruining what was possibly a pretty visage into a gory crimson tapestry of destroyed teeth, jaw, and nose. The woman still lived albeit meekly. Zara did not swing again. Instead leaving the mace, a blade embedded in the woman's face, and her fallen opponent there after retrieving her sword a final time. Leaving her to die alone in her own vitals pooling around her destroyed body.

That is when she heard the tramping of feet. Her white armored garb swiftly arriving.

"The enemy have breached the Southern Gate. Heavy fighting there already."

A horn sounded in the distance. Similar to the previous assault. The enemy was calling for their retreat...

[Antimersia]

Medi Munkii

Pulling the pike free from the dirt, Medi centered himself. He sensed the foes around him, most in his immediate vicinity are dead or dying. And the dying are mostly pinned beneath the bodies of the dead. He readies himself and aims his focus at a foe a few meters in front of him. They were standing back up, clearly injured from the blast, but not unable to continue the fight. He spread his stance, rearing to charge at this enemy and fell him like the others. But, just then a familiar voice enters Medi's ears. He hears Gregor give him direction, and complimenting him. Medi perks up and turns towards the area that Gregor's voice came from. He smiles excitedly and waves towards him. "Thanks Gregor! Will do, those orcs are as good as stabbed!" Medi exclaims happily.

The enemy that was getting up is standing now. He sees the results of Medi's strike. Bodies strewn about, crushed and desolated by shattering winds. His blood boils, pushing him forward into a charge. His injuries make him slower and struggle to advance. But his passion pushes him forward. He rushes at the distracted Medi. Pulling his blade up above his head and bringing it down towards Medi's shoulder as he gets close. Medi, senses all of this. He knew the enemy was charging at him from the moment he took that first labored step. Medi times his dodge almost perfectly, side stepping out of the way of the attack and spinning the pike around in his hand so that it is upside down. Medi jabs his arm to the side quickly, jutting the pike out towards the man attacking him. The bladed tip of the pike reaching out and penetrating the man's neck with ease. Medi yanks the pike back out of his neck roughly. Arterial spray coats Medi's arms and tunic. The enemy is felled like the rest, dropping to the snowy dirt and bleeding out within seconds. The snow, turning red and melting as the hot blood saturates the battlefield.

Medi senses the approach of several more foes. He spins the pike, building a whirlwind on the tip once more. A smaller one this time. More contained, yet violently stormy none the lesser. Three enemies focus on Medi while the rest seem focused on getting past him and rushing the gate. Medi uses the butt of the pike to push back one of the approaching soldiers, giving him the space he needs to swing the pike, performing an uppercut motion and unleashing the wind built up on the blade in an upward directed slash that sends a second soldier flying upwards. He rises up at least fifty feet within seconds, hangs in the air for a moment, the drops down. Landing on several of his comrades. Medi cannot perceive the extent of the damage caused to them but his focus is on the two other soldiers actively attacking him. The third soldier advances, swinging at Medi with a warhammer. Medi directs the strike away from him by clashing the bottom half of the shaft with that of the handle of the warhammer. He used the momentum of the soldier's swing to lead him to overextend and have his hammer slam into the dirt. Before he could readjust, Medi swings his pike back around and slashes at the slightly exposed neck beneath the soldier's helmet. the cut the pike tip makes is not deep, but it is clearly deep enough to make the soldier clench his neck and fall back. The third soldier, approaches Medi faster than he can react. A dagger blade plunges into Medi's left shoulder. He felt no pain in the moment though. Adrenaline and shock take over and leave his shoulder feeling more numb than stabbed. Medi reacts quickly though, turning his body and striking the soldier in his chest plate with his open palm. The moment contact is made, Medi releases a sudden and compress burst of powerful air. The compressed burst denting and ripping through the armor so deeply that the soldier is stabbed by shrapnel of it as he is sent flying backwards.

The those three dispatched, Medi is affored a minute moment of appraisal and reflection. This is when the pain starts to appear. His arms sears like hot coals as blood slowly pours from the knife filled wound. He readies himself to continue the fight, but then a blaring horn sounds, and a retreat begins.

[Woodstovia]

Lucien Brightwater

The Brightwater cavalry played a game of cat and mouse for what felt like hours. Lucien reformed his ranks and positioned himself, but then the enemy's forces at the other end of the expanse around them would shift their weight to one end of their line or another, so Lucien would pull his horse to the other side, and then the enemy would shift to the opposite side. And on and on it went. They did not want to give battle, that much was obvious. It would have created a hole in their army that Lady Vai had wanted to exploit. Once they had sent their archers and skirmishers forwards to bait an attack so Lucien had pulled back, and since his opponents did not want to overcommit they retreated. But Lucien wasn't about to charge into the mass of the enemy army and so the two sides were left to stare at one another.

They're too cautious. Lucien reflected, but then again it wasn't as if there were any easy options in war. He was not surprised when a great blast of a horn rang out, signalling a general retreat. his work done Lucien turned back and rode into Lethlinberg once again.

The Brightwater camp was celebrating merrily, although from what Lucien could see only the cavalry had actually gone into battle that day. Ale and wine was flowing, and food was passed around. Lucien took a skewer of pork and fried onions and bit into it, the hot juices running down his face. It was only when he began eating that he realised how hungry he was. Hungry, and cold and sore, and tired.

Lord Aerion and his retainers left their grand command tent, and Lucien could not help but notice the delicious smells coming from inside. They had been feasting there all day while he was outside the walls. Aerion was lifted up onto his horse and drew his sword, waving it in the air victoriously as his retainers cheered and chanted his name

"Aerion! Aerion! Aerion!" the noise filled the camp, some of the archers and men at arms joined in but many more and most of the cavalry were silent. Aerion raised a hand and a hush descended upon the camp,

"This day is a victory not only for House Brightwater, not only for Lethlinberg but for the world!" his men gave a roar of approval. "I name this day the triumph of Lethlinberg!". There were more cheers and chanting. But Lucien could not help but roll his eyes. The enemy was still sitting beyond those gates. It had withdrawn but from what he had seen they had not suffered heavy losses. They would come again, and again, and again.

[Luminesa]

Eugeni- A Crimson Peace

Eugeni continued to slash away enemies, numbing himself to the blood and gore splashing around him. Or he attempted, anyway, to numb himself. He shuddered at the bodies he left in rings around him, and at the blood still dripping off the beautiful metal of his fans. As the fighting seemed to slow for a few moments, he tried to wipe some of the blood off the beautiful peacock on one fan, and off the golden blossoms on the other. His hands were sticky and smelled sickly-sweet, and he tried not to vomit as he turned his back to Silisia. He took deep breaths, and looked up toward the sky. The airships were beginning to lurch...and he watched with horror as one of them crashed right into the middle of the city.

"ZARA!!!" He screamed, as he had seen her jump into the airship and had caught a glimpse of her flames trailing from within the ship. As it crashed, it exploded into billions of pieces both big and small, and created an enormous fire that began to consume the area underneath it. Ledaal began to work with haste to extinguish the fire, working with other Water Exalted who joined the efforts once again. Eugeni hoped to the gods that she was not dead, though he could already see some remains lying all over the area. His heart pounded in his chest, threatening to break his ribs. He had never seen anything so chaotic and apocalyptic.

He summoned a wellspring of air underneath him, much like Medi had done to propel himself. This time, he landed within the city's decimated and bloodied bowels, rushing toward the carnage to see if the shelter had been hit. Fortunately, it seemed to be intact, but nearby was all of the wreckage. Dragon-Bloods emerged from the airship, along with Lady Zara. They were locked in their deadly waltz, with one woman limping toward the Vai Noble to try and attack her. Another aimed from the flank, but Eugeni hurried to attack them. As many before, this Dragon-Blood's head rolled into the snow. In the meantime, his former classmate savagely bashed her opponent to death. He could hear the sounds of bones cracking like acorns under children's feet. Yet when he turned to see the outcome, she was still alive. Zara, in the meantime, had turned away to deal with other business. The deed was done, and a horn sounded in the distance. Bittersweet release.

Eugeni approached the dying woman who had attempted to fight Zara. He almost respected her for it-even he was afraid to fight the fiery Vai girl when he was in school, and he was older than her. Yet she was still an enemy, and her airship had landed on the city and killed a large group of people. Yet he could not stand to see someone dying in such a humiliating fashion. Choking on their own blood and bodily fluids, their insides poured around them in an unholy libation. He took out his bloodied fan, showing her the golden blossoms. Perhaps they would provide a comforting last image for her dying eyes. With a swift movement, he chopped one more dead, and her suffering was finished.

He breathed heavily as he backed away from the un-stomachable scent of death. He held a hand over his mouth, only to realize it was covered in her blood. His stomach gave way and he vomited rather gracelessly nearby, in the snow. Coughing and gasping for air, he felt tears stinging his eyes. Eugeni did not know how many he had killed this time. At Gregor's vicious prompting, he had shut away his emotions and had revealed his power to foot-soldiers who had never stood a chance. Hot tears dripped into the icy ground, and he dried his eyes with his cleaner wrist. The battle was over, the Southern Gate was broken, but Lethlinberg had barely survived. The reaper grinned down over the gentle medic, who had forced himself into battle for his men's sake.

After gathering his senses, he looked toward Zara and approached her. He needed to check her for wounds, especially after she had endured such a fall from the sky. She had no problem killing her opponent, but she did not seem like the type to openly talk about her injuries. Perhaps he could coax her into letting him heal her. "...Lady Zara..." he meekly murmured behind her, his breath ragged from fighting, "if I may...you fell from that airship. May I check you for your wounds?..."

All around them, the firefight continued, and soon the fires of the destroyed airship became a rising wall of cinders. Now soldiers could recover bodies and assess the damage. Another sanguineous calm fell over the city of Lethlinberg as horses galloped away in the distance...

[Luminesa]

Lucien Brightwater

The Brightwater cavalry played a game of cat and mouse for what felt like hours. Lucien reformed his ranks and positioned himself, but then the enemy's forces at the other end of the expanse around them would shift their weight to one end of their line or another, so Lucien would pull his horse to the other side, and then the enemy would shift to the opposite side. And on and on it went. They did not want to give battle, that much was obvious. It would have created a hole in their army that Lady Vai had wanted to exploit. Once they had sent their archers and skirmishers forwards to bait an attack so Lucien had pulled back, and since his opponents did not want to overcommit they retreated. But Lucien wasn't about to charge into the mass of the enemy army and so the two sides were left to stare at one another.

They're too cautious. Lucien reflected, but then again it wasn't as if there were any easy options in war. He was not surprised when a great blast of a horn rang out, signalling a general retreat. his work done Lucien turned back and rode into Lethlinberg once again.

The Brightwater camp was celebrating merrily, although from what Lucien could see only the cavalry had actually gone into battle that day. Ale and wine was flowing, and food was passed around. Lucien took a skewer of pork and fried onions and bit into it, the hot juices running down his face. It was only when he began eating that he realised how hungry he was. Hungry, and cold and sore, and tired.

Lord Aerion and his retainers left their grand command tent, and Lucien could not help but notice the delicious smells coming from inside. They had been feasting there all day while he was outside the walls. Aerion was lifted up onto his horse and drew his sword, waving it in the air victoriously as his retainers cheered and chanted his name

"Aerion! Aerion! Aerion!" the noise filled the camp, some of the archers and men at arms joined in but many more and most of the cavalry were silent. Aerion raised a hand and a hush descended upon the camp,

"This day is a victory not only for House Brightwater, not only for Lethlinberg but for the world!" his men gave a roar of approval. "I name this day the triumph of Lethlinberg!". There were more cheers and chanting. But Lucien could not help but roll his eyes. The enemy was still sitting beyond those gates. It had withdrawn but from what he had seen they had not suffered heavy losses. They would come again, and again, and again.

House Ledaal - Damages

Ledaal soldiers began to search for bodies, pulling them from the rubble underneath the destroyed airship. Dozens. Dozens were dead. Some of them were people who had come in the airship anyway, but some were also allied soldiers who had run back and forth for supplies. They were from a variety of allied armies-Ledaal, Vai, Mahajan, Brightwater, and others. Most were dead as they were found, and were wrapped in their cloaks or anything to preserve their dignity.

Almost as horrifying was the property damage. At least a block of buildings had been destroyed. As the debris from the fallen ships was transported and sorted, they began to question if any of it was usable for repairs on the destroyed buildings. Earth Exalted and Wood Exalted would be the ones to use any or all of the available supplies, but Ledaal had to put themselves to use and help. They had serious repairs to undertake, and no time to delay.

Even bigger was the question of the Southern Gate. The huge doors and archways to the gate had been demolished, both by the Bull’s Army and by fire. Flames from a variety of sources had spread to nearby buildings and had to be extinguished by Water Exalted. While the damage to buildings around the area had not been as extensive as in the Eastern District, the Gate needed repairs and needed them now. Soldiers began to set aside some of the wood from the exploded airship for this cause.

Shan Yui and Shi made sure to transport the wounded to the proper shelters, that they might receive medical treatment. Those who were able continued to transport wood and any usable materials to be allocated for rebuilding. The Ledaal General himself was not sure if he was too wounded to work or not. He had killed several more Orcs and countless enemy-soldiers. He found himself staring at the sky for a moment, taking a deep sigh of relief as once again they had survived-but barely.

“...Going to have Lord Eugeni look at your wounds again, Shan?” Captain Lang had approached, smiling at him and elbowing him lightly. Anything to ease the mood of the aftermath.

“...Ah...only if he is willing...” Shan Yui looked around for the Ledaal scion, only to notice that he had jumped below and was with Lady Zara. The crimson staining his clothes could be seen from a distance. Dear Eugeni...It is strange to see you drenched in blood...and even so, you still wish to heal others... He found himself blushing, only to be dragged back into the present moment by soldiers moving past with a wounded ally. He directed them to a healer, and sighed. He needed to not rely entirely on himself when trying to direct traffic around him.

He himself moved below, and spotted another general moving through the streets. Lucien. He walked after him, taking his time. Shan Yui could not afford to faint in the streets again. As he approached, he saw some of the inside of the Brightwater camp and was shocked.

Bread and circuses. Aerion’s camp had foods and drinks he had not smelled in at least a month. Everything was hot and steaming, a welcome sensation against his cold and stinging face. Wine poured and laughed exploded in a salvo. The pretty young Brightwater Noble sat on a throne, unblemished by the horrors of the war outside. Shan Yui felt himself suppressing a scowl of disapproval, and he turned to look for Lucien. He was eating, but hastily. He would not be too busy to talk.

“General Brightwater.” Shan Yui moved toward him, ignoring how he looked to observers. Tall, exhausted, and covered in blood from his ponytail to his boots. “General Shan Yui of House Ledaal. Your work on the battlefield was outstanding. It would be very much appreciated if you could help with directing soldiers with wounded and rebuilding. I would say I have come from my Lord with this message, but he is graciously busy healing our troops, and I did not wish to delay.” His mention of Eugeni was only the slightly dig at Aerion-for all of the Ledaal medic’s weaknesses and fears, he had still decided to endure the battle alongside his men.

[Woodstovia]

Lucien Brightwater

Lucien looked back at his Lord and his men within the camp, and to the newcomer begging for help outside of it. He wanted to rest, to eat until he couldn't eat any more and to sample all the wines Aerion had brought over. The camp was warm, and happy, and relaxed. But he could not shirk away from duty, and there was still a war to be won. He nodded at the newcomer and grabbed some of the foot soldiers who had been not involved in the days fighting, leading them outside and following the newcomer. The chill winds stabbing through his clothing and armour and needling into his soul. The Brightwater Lands were far to the West and were always sunny and warm. He was unused to this kind of cold, and he could not say that he liked it.

The further they walked the worse the devastation got. Everywhere there were broken houses, flaming husks of ancient buildings, orphans and widows, and men and women, all screaming for their loved ones and searching desperately through the rubble for some hope they were still alive. The Brightwater camp had been situated far away from the fighting and he had not realised the true extent of the damage.

There was so much to do. Rubble needed to be lifted and cleared, and hopefully recycled into new structures. Citizens had to be guided to shelters and a head count was needed to determine the dead and missing, and then search parties would need to try and find or identify them. Bodies would need to be stripped, cleaned, and taken to the temples for proper burials, fortifications needed rebuilding...

Lucien felt himself sigh. He was exhausted. The battle had sapped his physical and mental energies and the adrenaline had well and truly worn off. But there was still so much to do. He began barking orders and whipping his soldiers into action as they got to work around Lethlinberg. He sent one back to bring him more men though he half expected the man to run off to some warm tent and leave his comrades out in the snow to do all the work.By contrast House Ledaal men buzzed all around him as they set to work.

A lord healing his troops. Lucien thought, remembering what the man had said. That was a novel thought.

"So General Yui, what is Lord Ledaal like if you don't mind me asking?"

[Revlona]

Silisia

In the stories and plays Silisia had seen and heard as a child and teenager, soldiers who had been wounded and revived would sit up suddenly, dragging air into their lungs in a quick gasp as they did so. Every one of them would do it, but one time when her uncle had been on leave from the Vai armies and had taken her to see one such play, he had said it was wrong. "You only see that when someone takes in a breath after not having taken any beforehand, soldier who have been resuscitated after drowning will do it, but otherwise no. A man would have to be dead or near death for such a reaction and I'm not sure their is any magic other than those most foul that can bring a man back from death," Her uncle had said, it was always something which I had stuck with her, even after the mans death.

Silisias eyes opened suddenly, tired in their movement as they rolled around in her head, trying to find something to lock onto. Eugeni was that something, the man standing over her protectively as his face dripped with a bit of blood. Her eyes narrowed as she looked at him, she had seen him before somewhere but couldn't remember when or where. That was when her eyes slid past Eugeni to Gregor, she recognized him immediately from the Bar the night before, "Shit, did I do something?" Silisia said, not realizing she had muttered it out loud. The men where standing over her in a protective manner and for the life of her she didn't know why, the last thing she remembered was the ground approaching her face after she cleared the wall.

She sat up, groaning in pain as her muscles screamed in protest. She looked around her and noticed the carnage which the young lord Euegeni had caused. "Uh...what happened?" She said, raising her voice and looking around at the people gathered around her. Not liking that none of her comrades were there, the only person in the group she recognized being Lord Gregor.

Eugeni - The Healer and the Harvester

Eugeni's hand-fans dripped with blood. His armor was speckled with crimson, and his boots were smeared with the ichor of dead enemies. They made a sickening splish, as he pivoted to look at Silisia. She had awakened, and looked shaken by the fact that she had gone unconscious during battle. She did not even remember falling. He watched Silisia sit upright slowly, gingerly, as if her bones were filled with lead and dropped onto the stony wall. His eyes met hers, and he noticed that she seemed to still be aching.

With fewer enemies surrounding him, he knelt in front of her again, folding his fans while he dug for another ointment. "...You...fell unconscious, miss, and...I did not wish for anyone to attack you in such a vulnerable state...Your armor signified that you were not one of the Bull's lieutenants...and I had heard that you were causing quite the stir a few minutes ago..." he explained, as he found a small tub in his belt-pouch. "...Here...this...is for aches and pains...it's not much...but it should help you to feel better swinging a sword around..." Even while covered in blood and specks of gore, he still kept his soft, gentle voice when speaking to a patient. He tried not to shake as he felt the back of her head and checked her for other injuries. "...Here. Hold onto this, apply where needed, perhaps give some to some of your men. It will help them as well as yourself..."

He smiled at her, and then whirled around. A blur of crimson, turquoise, and gold, his fans chopped through the neck of an enemy soldier without much effort. He shook some of the residual gore off the fan, and then turned back to Silisia. "Are you going to be alright?...We shall need you in the fight, if you are able," he urged her.

Gregor - Blind Faith

The Mahajan forces continued their blizzard of bloody warfare around the Ledaal noble and Silisia, and Gregor stood over the carnage he had rendered toward the soldiers near the ground. He had expected some blowback. He knew the soldiers would try to find their way into Lethlinberg, this time through another route. The airships were not expected, but they were being assaulted by artillery and Lady Zara. He figured she would be just fine killing the pilots of airships, and he chuckled to himself. He then waited to see who would rise from the ashes he had created below.

In the meantime, he found that another ally had joined them along the wall. An orb of wind and a whirling pike moved upward as if they were part of a flying apparatus. Underneath them was their pilot, a grinning and determined Medi. He soared up above the wall, and then landed a few yards away. The wind he had summoned exploded, throwing enemies in every direction. The scene was quite sudden and raucous, as the Bull's soldiers either crashed against walls or fell over them to their deaths. While he was wary about a blind warrior running along these crowds walls, Gregor could not help but smirk.

"...You have spunk, Medi, I have to give you credit for that much. Now how about you stab some of the men around Shan Yui and take a load off his back? He's killed a couple of orcs and I imagine he's getting tired again," he called to him. He hoped Medi would recognize his voice. If he was willing to fight, then Gregor would put him to work.

Silisia

She listened as the boyish looking Exalted spoke to her, his tone that of a man attempting to calm a spooked horse , gentle and calming. She nodded once as he finished speaking to her, "Yes I am able," Silisia said. Her eyes roamed around her and she reached out her hand as she found what she was looking for. She pulled the hand and a half sword that was her families blade to herself and used it as s simple crutch to climb to her feet. She looked around herself but could not find her helm, the healer must have removed it and tossed it aside without thought.

It was then that the healers words hit her truly. She had been causing a stir? Had she done something when she had blacked out? Killed some great enemy leader or single handedly held a breach? She could not remember and that worried her, she did not want to face accusations of being a false hero after the battle should she continue to survive, it would tarnish her families name and that was something she could not allow. However if she spoke out against it now the healer or Lord Gregor might take it poorly, she had heard that exalted could have nasty tempers and killing her would be an easy feat if they thought her a liar.

"I shall fight by your side happily my Lord, my regiment took heavy casualties and," She said before looking around herself at the Vai warriors who manned the walls. "It seems like they have been moved off the wall, those who live. I am still able bodied so direct me to where you think I shall do the most help and I will go," Silisia said, sheathing her blade as she dipped her head some to the exalted before her.

[Luminesa]

Lucien Brightwater

Lucien looked back at his Lord and his men within the camp, and to the newcomer begging for help outside of it. He wanted to rest, to eat until he couldn't eat any more and to sample all the wines Aerion had brought over. The camp was warm, and happy, and relaxed. But he could not shirk away from duty, and there was still a war to be won. He nodded at the newcomer and grabbed some of the foot soldiers who had been not involved in the days fighting, leading them outside and following the newcomer. The chill winds stabbing through his clothing and armour and needling into his soul. The Brightwater Lands were far to the West and were always sunny and warm. He was unused to this kind of cold, and he could not say that he liked it.

The further they walked the worse the devastation got. Everywhere there were broken houses, flaming husks of ancient buildings, orphans and widows, and men and women, all screaming for their loved ones and searching desperately through the rubble for some hope they were still alive. The Brightwater camp had been situated far away from the fighting and he had not realised the true extent of the damage.

There was so much to do. Rubble needed to be lifted and cleared, and hopefully recycled into new structures. Citizens had to be guided to shelters and a head count was needed to determine the dead and missing, and then search parties would need to try and find or identify them. Bodies would need to be stripped, cleaned, and taken to the temples for proper burials, fortifications needed rebuilding...

Lucien felt himself sigh. He was exhausted. The battle had sapped his physical and mental energies and the adrenaline had well and truly worn off. But there was still so much to do. He began barking orders and whipping his soldiers into action as they got to work around Lethlinberg. He sent one back to bring him more men though he half expected the man to run off to some warm tent and leave his comrades out in the snow to do all the work.By contrast House Ledaal men buzzed all around him as they set to work.

A lord healing his troops. Lucien thought, remembering what the man had said. That was a novel thought.

"So General Yui, what is Lord Ledaal like if you don't mind me asking?"

Shan Yui - Warming the Chill

General Shan was glad to see that Lucien was willing to follow him out to help with the recovery efforts. He did not wish to walk back into the cold either, but he knew that they had their duties. They left the warmth, chatter, and bubbling scents of food to walk into the desolation outdoors. Shan Yui did notice that Lucien seemed rather cold as they walked outside, and he made sure to keep an eye on him. He wanted to talk, possibly to distract himself from the cold, and the general was glad to oblige.

“Oh...Lord Eugeni is...well...” A topic to warm his heart. His eyes flickered over to Lord Eugeni standing with Lady Zara, earnestly checking her for wounds. Just looking at him caused his mind to shift to verdant summers, lazy ivies, and crystalline ponds with delicate water-lilies. “...Lord Ledaal is a kind man. He has an old soul-he prefers his books by candlelight and his crowds small, he enjoys peace and loathes violence. But...he always puts others before himself. Which makes him a phenomenal medic. If you do need him for anything, you are free to ask him. He is quite accommodating to all people, regardless of rank,” he described.

Captain Lang continued to direct soldiers in and around the airship’s debris, sending people this way and that way to stock different kinds of recovered materials. More bodies-or parts of bodies-revealed themselves as snow shifted in the cold breeze. He watched Shan Yui and Lucien direct traffic and smiled. They were talking about Eugeni for a moment, and he noticed the way the man’s face illuminated as he talked. “Ohhhh how the warmth of devotion pierces even the hardest heart of winter,” he mused, as he wrote notes on the debris.

As they walked, Shan Yui noted how Lucien moved slowly, as if he was bearing a weight on his shoulders. He was clearly in pain, wincing as he moved. “...If you need a healer, we have plenty who can treat you. Lord Eugeni can also assist you. He has medicines on hand, as do all of our medics and clerics.”

[Luminesa]

Medi Munkii

Pulling the pike free from the dirt, Medi centered himself. He sensed the foes around him, most in his immediate vicinity are dead or dying. And the dying are mostly pinned beneath the bodies of the dead. He readies himself and aims his focus at a foe a few meters in front of him. They were standing back up, clearly injured from the blast, but not unable to continue the fight. He spread his stance, rearing to charge at this enemy and fell him like the others. But, just then a familiar voice enters Medi's ears. He hears Gregor give him direction, and complimenting him. Medi perks up and turns towards the area that Gregor's voice came from. He smiles excitedly and waves towards him. "Thanks Gregor! Will do, those orcs are as good as stabbed!" Medi exclaims happily.

The enemy that was getting up is standing now. He sees the results of Medi's strike. Bodies strewn about, crushed and desolated by shattering winds. His blood boils, pushing him forward into a charge. His injuries make him slower and struggle to advance. But his passion pushes him forward. He rushes at the distracted Medi. Pulling his blade up above his head and bringing it down towards Medi's shoulder as he gets close. Medi, senses all of this. He knew the enemy was charging at him from the moment he took that first labored step. Medi times his dodge almost perfectly, side stepping out of the way of the attack and spinning the pike around in his hand so that it is upside down. Medi jabs his arm to the side quickly, jutting the pike out towards the man attacking him. The bladed tip of the pike reaching out and penetrating the man's neck with ease. Medi yanks the pike back out of his neck roughly. Arterial spray coats Medi's arms and tunic. The enemy is felled like the rest, dropping to the snowy dirt and bleeding out within seconds. The snow, turning red and melting as the hot blood saturates the battlefield.

Medi senses the approach of several more foes. He spins the pike, building a whirlwind on the tip once more. A smaller one this time. More contained, yet violently stormy none the lesser. Three enemies focus on Medi while the rest seem focused on getting past him and rushing the gate. Medi uses the butt of the pike to push back one of the approaching soldiers, giving him the space he needs to swing the pike, performing an uppercut motion and unleashing the wind built up on the blade in an upward directed slash that sends a second soldier flying upwards. He rises up at least fifty feet within seconds, hangs in the air for a moment, the drops down. Landing on several of his comrades. Medi cannot perceive the extent of the damage caused to them but his focus is on the two other soldiers actively attacking him. The third soldier advances, swinging at Medi with a warhammer. Medi directs the strike away from him by clashing the bottom half of the shaft with that of the handle of the warhammer. He used the momentum of the soldier's swing to lead him to overextend and have his hammer slam into the dirt. Before he could readjust, Medi swings his pike back around and slashes at the slightly exposed neck beneath the soldier's helmet. the cut the pike tip makes is not deep, but it is clearly deep enough to make the soldier clench his neck and fall back. The third soldier, approaches Medi faster than he can react. A dagger blade plunges into Medi's left shoulder. He felt no pain in the moment though. Adrenaline and shock take over and leave his shoulder feeling more numb than stabbed. Medi reacts quickly though, turning his body and striking the soldier in his chest plate with his open palm. The moment contact is made, Medi releases a sudden and compress burst of powerful air. The compressed burst denting and ripping through the armor so deeply that the soldier is stabbed by shrapnel of it as he is sent flying backwards.

The those three dispatched, Medi is affored a minute moment of appraisal and reflection. This is when the pain starts to appear. His arms sears like hot coals as blood slowly pours from the knife filled wound. He readies himself to continue the fight, but then a blaring horn sounds, and a retreat begins.

Gregor - When the Fire Dies Again...

Gregor did not have too much left to accomplish, after he had set fire to the soldiers far below. Anyone who tried to approach him along the walls met death by a sword, and he snickered at the soldiers brave enough to try and attack him. They had guts, but those guts would not save them from their fate. Piles of men surrounded the Mahajan general as the battle ended, and this time, House Mahajan did not spend much time hooting or hollering. They were rushing around to help Ledaal.

Knowing that Eugeni was running his men ragged-and with good reason-Gregor had made sure to tell them not to delay in relieving them. Find bodies, heal those bodies if possible, if not then put them outside of the city. Enemy bodies had no place to be buried within Lethlinberg, but if they were not buried then the stench would be horrendous for days. Already decay and waste were in the air, testing the stomachs everyone below. Even Daana coughed a few times as he moved enemies’ bodies out of the city or off the walls.

In the meantime, the Mahajan warrior had decided to go find Medi. He had watched the blind trickster’s fighting skills, and he was impressed. Daana rushed to his side as he was walking, and gave him a status report.

“The cavalry shall be returning soon!”

“Excellent. And I imagine there were casualties?”

“Oh yeah, definitely. They looked smaller even from here...”

Gregor paused to think. “...Do you see a sign of Navid. I had something for him if he survived,” he inquired.

Daana could only shrug. “We’ll see when they come back. I certainly hope he learned how to fight, now that this is over,” he suggested. Seeing that Gregor was going to speak to someone else, he ran to go help other captains to find Mahajan wounded. Smoke from Gregor’s flames still floated in the air, emanating from crowds of scorched and burned people below.

“...Well done, Medi. I must say...” Gregor put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it to let Medi know that he was close. “I did not know whether or not you would be able to help with fighting efforts, but seeing that you went and took the initiative, I’m quite glad you survived. If you’re hurt, see about finding a healer. I’d rather you not die of a raging infection. We have no place here to bury you, and Azrellia would be quite sad,” he suggested. He was only partially-joking, but he was glad to see that Medi-and most everyone-had survived this brutal endeavor.

[Antimersia]

Medi Munkii

As the enemy retreats the pain in Medi's stabbed shoulder grows. He tries not to show it. Opting for his usual smile instead. There are people on this battlefield who have lost their limbs, or more, in the course of this battle. He will not whine over a single stabbing. Feeling the grip of Gregor's hand on his other shoulder was rather warm and welcome. He turned and listened to the general's advice. He saw the medics working hard in the field. and Medi knew that they were working just as hard back behind the walls. It almost made him sad to think that he might take time away from a cleric who could be helping someone more in need. But then his mind drifted to Azrellia. Hearing Gregor mention her filled Medi's mind with thoughts of her and worries of her safety. Further, he recalled the cleric in the shelter that was caring for her.

"Thanks, Lord Gregor. I'll do that. I might find a better staff while I'm at it! This pike did good work but it just isn't the same." Medi said with a minor solemnity. He missed his old bo staff, and was eager to continue his journey with a new one. He left Gregor to head back in through the southern gate. His tunic was starting to get heavy with blood. And as his body lost it, walking through the streets became tougher as well. The cold chill grew worse. Medi knew how to warm himself through his abilities. But even with that knowledge, the snow and blood loss made it hard to not shiver. Several soldiers and medics offered to help him along the way. But Medi wasn't about to take their help when he saw others still in need. Especially civilians caught in the cross fire. He politely declined each of them, forcing his way through until he finally reached the shelter. Getting inside, his body was almost as white as the snow outside. He stumbled a few times, but thankfully made it back to the cot beside Azrellia's. The gaseous spirit was looking fuller and more vibrant than when he left. A sight that makes Medi's smile grow even wider. The smile disappears though, once the cleric that was tending to Azrellia arrives to help him. The cleric doesn't even ask permission, he simply gets to work. Medi feints from pain as the doc removes the blade from his shoulder. Using healing magic and proper sutures to seal the wound so Medi might start healing and not risk any rampant infection as Gregor thought could occur. He isn't out of the woods. But as he lays and rests beside Azrellia, they are both healing.

[Woodstovia]

Lucien Brightwater

A lord who dealt with medicine and healing seemed like a novel prospect to Lucien. "Healer? Medicines? Doesn't your Lord want to ride off and cleave men and women in two like all the rest of them?" although Lucien was probably guilty of that himself, he was a man dedicated to war and not to peace. He felt his head giving a weary nod as he went off to move towards Lord Eugeni, but any medic or cleric would do right now. As he began moving off however he heard gasps and the movement of a great crowd somewhere back across the narrow alleyways of Lethlinberg where he had came from. Lucien stood a little straighter and his hand moved towards his javelin as he braced himself. Had the enemy launched a surprise attack? Was there some kind of rioting or unrest amongst the people?

A massive green mass of claws and scales galloped down the streets. Beady red eyes that shone with malevolence looked out and stared at him as the rider drew his mount to a halt. The Clawed One was big as a horse, a green-scaled lizard whose mouth was filled with rows of savage yellow teeth each as big as his arm. Two small arms with hooked claws sharper than swords hung below the mouth. Malice he knew.

His father Lord Languay Brightwater had brought back a clutch of Clawed One eggs from far in the east after a campaign of conquest in order to display some sort of strength after the Battle of the Kitsune. The Clawed Ones were infamous mounts, better fighters than horses, but wild, violent, and almost impossible for most to tame, although Exalted seemed to be better at taming them than regular men. They weren't the sort of mounts used in civilised events, but his lord had never been one for civility.

Aerion threw a full chicken into the air and his mount rose up to rip it from the air, devouring it whole as its claws and teeth ripped and apart its flesh, throwing bloody chunks into its maw when it was done. It was more well fed than all the citizens of Lethlinberg, Lucien thought. They were difficult to transport and needed for more food than a horse, it had to be meat too. But Lucien could not deny its effectiveness in combat. When Aerion had been playing the gallant lord for the other nobles here he had ridden upon a fine destrier, but now he thought nobody was looking he brought his truest friend.

"You're stealing my men brother." Aerion sneered, commoners and soldiers alike fleeing or panicking as Malice moved forwards. "These men are needed for battle on the morrow when they smash the Northerners and I take another victory. You're wearing them out by making them do this peasant business of building houses and nursing commoners back to health. These are empty mouths in a time of war, best we leave them to their fate."

"Empty mouths when our stores are full. feeding them isn't the problem" Lucien said. He was wary when talking to his brother. He was a fool but still his lord, and it was difficult to rebuke his orders. "Our victories will be more difficult if we do not have the support of the people. There have been many sieges lost due to rebellious populations opening the gates for the enemy in the middle of the night. The men weren't doing anything productive anyway and hadn't fought. A few hours of work won't do them harm-"

"If they're such a danger brother perhaps we should put them to the sword and be done with it. Malice needs the meat after all."

Lucien felt his skin crawl but Aerion barked an order and the Brightwater soldiers began walking back to their camp.