Halfblood Campers: A PJO RP (IC) (Reboot)

[The Anarcho-Syndicalist Commune]

OOC Link: viewtopic.php?f=31&t=535206
Halfblood Campers: A PJO RP
Book Alpha: The Spear of Bellerophon
Chapter 1: A Beautiful Day for Hellhounds

Alexander Pheidon
Camp Halfblood
June 15th, 2037

It was a bright day, like it always was in Camp Halfblood during summer. A cool sea breeze filled the Arena as Alex circled near his opponent. Several other campers surrounded the sparring pair, mostly watching in rapt attention as was the nature of the children of Athena. Alex wielded a shortsword and shield, a somewhat unusual combo for the young man who normally preferred Archery to be wielding. His opponent Nicholas, a particularly cocky half-brother of his, in turn wielded the classic greek combo of a spear and shield. Nick's shield bore the image of Medusa's face, made in the image of their mother's own Aegis. It would take more than that to throw Alex off of his game though.

A duel between the children of the Goddess of Wisdom was no simple affair. Unlike other instances of sparring, where duelists were required to think on their feet and move quickly, each of the Athena campers knew each other too well for such brazen movements to work. Their duels were a careful dance, based upon working within your established wheelhouse while also being unpredictable enough that your opponent could not see through your designs. As such, it could be minutes before either side made a move. A boring spectacle for others, but one quite fascinating to the brain children.

Nick made the first move, feigning inward like he was going to lunge with his spear. He likely expected Alex to react with some form of block with his shield and trying to close the distance so that Alex's sword would be more effective. What Nick didn't realize was that Alex had seen him practicing this move with the Ares kids during a brief visit over the winter. Alex instead opted to twist to the side of the other boy in a spin move, bringing his sword up and slicing off the head of Nick's spear as it was spun away in the feint. As the dummy head clattered to the ground, the crowd offered their applause. Nick spat and said "Didn't think you knew about that one."

Alex grinned and said "I know many things Nick, kind of my job as Counselor." Gathering his cabin around, Alex said confidently "Alright gang, we're looking good. Better than I expected honestly. I'm glad to see you guys have been keeping up with your training this winter. Let's break for lunch, and then we have myths class this afternoon." A collective groan rose from the crowd as the anticipation of boredom for a class that they already knew all the answers to. "Alright alright, I get it. We'll get more Arena time tomorrow you animals."

With the class dismissed, Alex slung his bow and quiver back over his shoulder, and began to make his way across camp. He initially strode towards the dining pavilion with the rest of his cabin, but another thought pushed him in a different direction. He had been having dreams again, and for a Demigod that was never a good sign. Usually these were filled with bad omens, but his most recent ones had been more confusing than anything else, filled with images of dragons, snakes, wolves and goats. A conference with Chiron up in the big house would do him some good.

Walking up the hill towards the house, he smiled at the familiar sight of the pine tree that held the Golden Fleece, flapping in the wind between the two campers stationed as it's guards today. An all too familiar sound filled the air and shattered the idyllic picture. A howl. Specifically, an unnatural guttural one that could only mean one thing. Hellhounds. Running up to the top of it, Alex looked down the hill to watch a young girl burst through the woods down the hill and across the road from the camp's driveway. A satyr, clearly wounded, limped after her. The pair had made it maybe 100 feet when several Hellhounds burst from the woods behind them, pursuing with a fury.

Alex muttered a curse as he drew his bow and yelled at the Guards "C'mon guys! We gotta help!" before running down the hill and taking a shot at the first Hellhound, nailing it between the eyes.

[Revlona]

Camp Halfblood
June 15th, 2037

A cooperative post between Revlona and Lunas Legion

Summer. Urgh. At least it wasn’t winter, Cornelia supposed. Anything was better than winter. Even summer and the yearly influx of more demigods who were almost all like an annoying itch without fail for her to glare at was better than winter. Maybe they wouldn’t get many this year. Maybe the Romans would finally leave. No Romans, less demigods around, honestly, it was wins all around.

She knew it wouldn’t happen. Just her luck, really.

“I-” She crouched, picking up a small pebble and throwing it into the bushes. “Had another weird fucking dream.” It was an ominous thing to say, but it wasn’t like her mind was giving her good alternatives right now. Not like social things were something she was great at anyways.

The taller raven haired girl to the left of Cornelia hid a smile behind one hand as the younger girl spoke. “So did I C!” Jamie said, a mischievous glint in her sea green eyes as she turned to look at Cornelia and continued, “I had a dream last night where a huge Cyclops was chasing me around the big house yelling about how he wanted licorice,” She said, an almost perfectly forged look of seriousness on her face as she continued to look at Cornelia and said “It was scary,”

“...Yeah that beats mine.” Cornelia admitted. “I mean, I can see a cyclops wanting… Whatever you said but…” She let out a small laugh. “It just all adds up. Mine was just, uh… Weird, I guess? I was building a sand sculpture on the beach of a fist sticking its middle finger up at the sea. Looked pretty fucking cool, honestly.”

“So you dreamed about a giant middle finger telling the ocean to go fuck itself. As a daughter of the sea I must say I’m offended…” Jamie said, the hurt look on her face lasting barely half a second before she grinned and said, “Nah, fuck em” and laughing quickly.

“How’re you feeling by the way?” Jamie said when she next caught her breath, “I know people aren’t really your thing and well, there are a lot more of them now.” The child of Poseidon said, worried for the little ball of rage which was one of her better friends at camp.

“Twitchier than usual.” Cornelia admitted, flexing her fingers into a fist and out of one. “Was a relief when camp emptied at the end of last summer. Not looking forward to this one. More people, more chaos, more noise… And fuck knows what else. Pretty sure the more demigods you pile into an area the more shit happens.”

“Awww don’t be that way, here, look at it the way I do.” Jamie cried, turning to look at her as she began to walk backwards in front of the younger girl. “More people equals more chances to prank people. More chances to prank people equals more people getting pranked. That of course rounds up to more people getting to witness the pranks. Add that together with a few really good pranks and boom, it all comes together in a stupidly fun summer before a slow and boring rest of the year.” She said, what can only be described as a shit eating grin on her face as she rounded off the quick rant.
“I guess?” Cordelia shrugged, but she didn’t really sound convinced. “More people just… Urgh. Makes me want to kick some of their shins in with all the new people showing up and old annoying people coming back and all that. Plus, well, reminders of fucking everything that just isn’t right.”

“Eh fair enough, just if you kick anyone in the shins leave the new kids out of it unless they like, really deserve it. Some of them have seen worse shit than either you or I did on our journeys here and that’s saying something I know.” She said, sombre in expression as she spoke before lighting up once more as she continued. “Though if you wanna say, give Dante, Jack, or,” her tone changed as she said the next name, an almost inaudible rise in pitch, “Alec, be my guest.”

“Only if they don’t get the message I don’t wanna talk to them.” Cornelia sighed. “Then I’ll kick in one singular shin. Warning shot. And as much as I’d fucking love to, I’m not dumb enough to pick a fight I know I’ll lose later. Even if it’d make me feel better immediately.” Old instincts died hard. “I’ll figure something out to keep me busy. Try building a sand sculpture like my dream, maybe. Seemed to be doing a good job of it given I’ve, like, got no art-y talents whatsoever.”

“Ah come on, if they fucked with you I’d mess em up actually…”she said, turning that shit eating grin on Cornelia and saying, “I’ve been looking for a reason to go at Dante so…I don’t know, you could…” The grin disappeared as Jamie's head whipped around in the direction she knew the golden fleece to be.

“Huh, I thought I heard shouting, anyways as I was saying..” Jamie said, the grin reappearing and disappearing as her head once more whipped around. “Yep, definitely shouting gods damn it all, why does it always have to be the first day.” She grumbled to herself, Cornelia momentarily forgotten.

“Uh…sorry C but I think I should probably go check that out or the old Horse will have my hide as a, and I quote, ‘bad role model for the younger generation of heroes’” She said, looking sadly at her friend.

“Go do hero shit.” Cornelia said, waving vaguely in the direction of the screams. It wasn’t her problem, really. As good as she was with a javelin, she hadn’t exactly brought those with her. She’d just get in the way, and wasn’t that just how things were. “You can tell me about it after, I guess?”

Jamie was already running away, her head turned to look back at Cornelia as she shouted “I will! Oh also, me and weston are cooking up something new to try on our esteemed guests, we’ll tell you about it when I swing by later!” When she had said that her head turned and she broke into a full on sprint, careful not to entirely run anyone over, though not a small amount of the camp’s boys wouldn’t have minded being done in by the pretty, athletic, daughter of the Sea God.

Cornelia gave a silent wave as Jamie sprinted off, letting out a tired sigh. Fucking summer. Now what was she supposed to do, walk around aimlessly? Boring. Destroying property was ‘against the rules’ or something dumb, so… Beach it was, then. It tended to be quiet there, at least, and she could give the glare of ‘do not fucking disturb me you shit’ in warning if anyone thought it would be a good idea to make it otherwise. She shoved her hands into her pockets and stomped away.

[White Bluff]

Allie and Aurelia
Camp Halfblood
June 15th, 2037

A Cooperative post between Pragia and White Bluff

It was a nice sunny day at Camp Half-Blood, a gentle breeze coming from the ocean and the occasional cloud lending to a comfortable day that Alyssa could enjoy. It had been a short winter and longer spring readying the ground for the summer planting. Cabin 4 was always pretty lonely outside of summer: most of Allie’s siblings were back with their families, going to school, and enjoying being as normal as demigods can be. That left the planning of the grounds and the experimentation to herself and only a couple of her siblings who didn’t have anywhere to go, or were powerful enough to not be ignored by monsters.

The daughter of Demeter was not alone as she dipped her hand into her seed pouch, drawing out a pinch of strawberry seeds and placing them in the prepared hole. She had spent most of the last couple months preparing the ground for her siblings and other campers to help in the fields. It was the most relaxing part of the process for her, and a good way to ease into the process for the large extended family of Camp Half Blood. Plenty of others were walking along their own prepared lines, but Allie had her friends with her as they walked along the dirt rows.


Close to Allie there was a lithe girl with golden hair that shown in the sun like ripe wheat, from a distance one could almost mistake her for another child of Demeter. Her eyes however would cause that notion to give way quickly, as they currently shined a stunning but unnatural blue. The daughter of Iris was happy to help her friend plant the strawberries for the season, she hummed a tune while she placed the seeds in their spots. She was glad the winter was melting away, despite her living at camp for three years, she had never gotten used to the cold northern winters, it made her long for the bayous of her home, but luckily she had Allie and the other permanent campers to keep her company, along with the Pegasi of course.

Allie would look along back to camp, seeing the swarms of new campers heading around and getting themselves oriented. Allie would be smiling “So, any new siblings for you this year?” She’d offer casually before getting back to covering the seeds back up in soil with her trowel. Despite the soil being slightly wet, it didn't stick to her arm, leaving her lightly tanned skin pristine.

Aurelia looks over at Allie, with a thoughtful look, "Not that I know of, thankfully Mama ain't as promiscuous as Hermes or Aphrodite. Gods I would just hate to be counselor to that many people, bless their hearts. How about you?" Iris cabin had a total of four campers, including herself, while she loved her younger siblings, she wouldn't want a dozen or more. Her fingers, hands, and arms covered in dirt, not that she cared, she was used to being paint or dirt splattered, it was a sign of hard work well done.

Allie would give a small snicker at Auri’s suggestion “Two new ones, Francesca and Jacob, guess I can't say my mom isn’t getting around. Marco likes to find excuses to get out of field work though, so I guess it works out alright.” She’d say, continuing on to the next “I don’t know about this year’s though, that one new unclaimed girl was looking for a fight. Think she’s with the legion, but it was hard to tell with her.”


The blonde giggled a bit at the response on Demeter and Marco, her smile soured a little as Cornelia was brought up, her eyes changing to a gray hinted with red, "She seems to hate the Romans, but then again she just seems to hate nearly everyone. She claws at everyone like a wounded bobcat. Mais I tried to be all friendly, but Cher, that girl wouldn't know friendship if it hit her." She shook her head, clearing the thoughts from her head, wanting to change the subject, "Ila is sweet though, it was nice having her in the cabin for a little bit."

Allie nodded in agreement as she pinches some more seeds into the next hole. “I’ll need to invite her over to the cabin sometime, the romans coming over have definitely been more colorful than a couple years ago. Might try to spend more time with them this summer.” She’d say, considering herself “One of their new leaders has me a bit spooked though, aphrodite charmspeakers make me think I’ll lose my mind.”

"You mean the she-wolf that stalks around the guys? Alec seems to like her, I'll be nice if she and I talk of course, but if she tries to flirt with Zane.." The younger girl paused, blushing quite a bit, her eyes switching to a pink, "I-I mean she seems to hover around Alex a bit more then the other guys, he doesn't seem to mind it all to much," she stated quickly to try to divert attention.

Allie would contain herself to a knowing smile “Don’t worry Auri, I don’t think she’s Zane’s type.” She’d try to be reassuring, but Aurelia always had a way of disarming her facade, some levity in her voice. “Hope Alex can wise up before she pulls one over on him.” She’d say in a more deadpan tone.

"I thought he was already supposed to be wise?"She held back a small giggle, "Maybe he knows something we don't?" Aurelia suggested, trying the benefit of the doubt, "Maybe we have the wrong idea of her, but who knows?" She said as she finishes off her bag of seeds.

“Maybe… maybe…” she’d say, seeming to think for a few moments, grabbing her water bottle from her belt and taking a drink from it, “So, when are you going to ask him?” She’d ask more quietly, not that they really needed much privacy, the nearest other campers well behind them on their rows.

The blush returned to Auri's cheeks as the question ran across her, she fidgeted a little as she thought about, "I-I don't know, I don't even know if he likes me back, in that way." She looked to Allie, "Should I just do it? Should I plan something? I've never done this." She played with her camp beads as a fidget toy while she asked.

Allie’s smile would remain as she continues “Well, you’re never going to know if you don’t ask. I’m not the best one to give that advice, but If I were you, I would just go and ask. If practicing would help, then practice, but you aren't helping yourself just thinking about him like that.” She’d smirk “I’m sure if you wanted to ask around at aphrodite cabin they’d give you all the right ideas.”

"Maybe I will, but I also want things to be right, ya know?" She sits at the edge of the field and gazes up at the clouds, "or maybe you're right, like always, and I should just rip the bandage off."

“Well I wouldn’t think of it like–” the taller girl’s head would whip from looking down to her friend back towards camp as a low howling would echo across the fields “That’s not good.” She’d state the obvious “Guess all the new blood has the monsters riled up.”

The girls eyes flash to brown as the howl sweeps across the field, "Sh-should we make sure everyone is okay? Or possibly get Chiron, or even Mr. D?" She nervously plays with her beads again.

“If we heard it here, Chiron heard it in camp. Lets get moving.” She’d say, breaking into a sprint back along the lines of just planted berries. The small sword on her hip was already in her hand, reflexes and rehearsal taking over.

Aurelia hesitated as she got up and started to follow her friend, not knowing exactly what she could do if something was the matter. But she wouldn’t allow herself to allow her friends to go into the face of danger alone.

[Audunia]

Garnet Roiux
Camp Half-Blood

Garnet was always iffy when it came to breaking rules. Sometimes he was virulently against the idea, whilst other times he was entirely in favour of bending them if the situation called for it. At this moment, he was feeling the latter, even if the moral flip-flopping caused him to feel slightly guilty in the pits of his stomach. He justified it this time, ducking beneath a low lying tree branch, the smell of sap and fresh leaves filling his nostrils pleasantly. This was a tradition that he had to maintain, no way around it. Sneaking into the forest on the first official day of camp to enjoy a bit of solitude in his favourite spot.

As he trudged across the rocky outcrops of the woodland, appreciating this brief moment of calm, he thought back to how this little excursion started. It had been his first day then, getting a lift to the gate of Camp Half-Blood by his father, only a few hours after his house had burned down, and immediately getting swarmed by his siblings and cousins, asking a thousand questions as to why he was so special as to have gotten a lift and even a gift from his father. He could feel the jealous eyes of his new founded brothers and sisters on him, and it all became overwhelming very quickly.

He’d run into the forest, hoping to find his way back to Canada the long way if necessary. He hadn’t heeded the warnings about it at all, as was his bull-headed way even then, and wandered for what had felt like ours, though in reality it was probably only two. The sun was still up at the time, when he happened upon the stream that ran through the forest, but he’d found a wooden stump that seemed to be carved exactly like a chair and, his body truly rent of energy, rested on it. He’d thought his situation through, letting all the anxiety and fear that had built up in him during that exhilarating day seep out of him. He figured that he mom was safe, having gotten Ares’ word for it, and also figured that leaving this camp was as good as a death sentence without the training. It was just like when he started playing hockey, a nervous little runt at the time, he was now a beast on the rink. So he set his mind to being a beast at camp as well.

Rather than find his way back to camp then, he figured he’d stay for a bit longer, enjoying the serenity. He hadn’t realised how long he’d been gone until a search party found him, happy as days sitting there. Though he was punished with cleaning duty for a week afterwards, he went at it with a new resolve.

Sheepishly, he smiled at the memory, finding the idea of fleeing into the forest to make his way back to Canada ridiculous, but kids were stupid. He fingered the bead necklace that hung from his neck. He was 15 now, marking it as the four year anniversary of that day. He wondered if 11 year old him would be proud of how far he’d come since then.

Breaching one of the softer raises in the forest, the thicket of woods seemed to clear in front of him, revealing the chair sitting alone, like some sort of game show prize the way the sun beams reached down on it. It looked the same as the first time he’d seen it, sitting alongside the little stream. The tree that it had been was long gone, though it managed to fit his bulk quite comfortably. It’s back and seat, he thought, had once been unpleasantly rough and cracked, but now the edges had been smoothed from both time and use. The seat itself had once been a brighter yellow, though darkened as the years went on, its many rings still clear despite the accumulation of dirt. He brushed the dirt off and took his seat, setting his baseball bat against the side of the stump-chair.

Fully intending to seize upon this moment of relaxation, Garnet stretched his legs out and planted them in the ground, pushing the small pebbles that made up the stream’s banks into a small pile, while he all but melted into the seat, the wood creaking slightly at this unexpected weight. He took stock of his surroundings, the chair sat near the centre of a small opening of the woods and letting the sun light it up, small flowers growing in patches amongst the grass. The tall trees cast slight shadows, swaying gently in the breeze. He let out a sigh. Peaceful.

Fishing his hand into his pocket, taking out a small package he’d concealed within it. No bigger than the palm of his hand, its plain brown packaging gave away who had sent it. “Why would I need something colourful? I’m not trying to impress them with the damned wrapping?” his mother had complained to him when a family member commented on the lack of festive wrapping paper for Christmas presents, ever since she used plain brown packing in protest.

Garnet smirked as he opened it, restraining the eagerness he felt to see what was inside. A roll of paper, held together in a bow. A letter. He undid it, the paper unfurling to reveal a two smaller gifts. A handful of drachma and a chocolate chip cookie. He pocketed the pennies and held the cookie at bay, knowing he’d wolf it down if he let himself.

His eyes turned to the letter, scanning it. His mother was wishing him well, sad that he had been unable to return home the previous year. His face darkened slightly, rolling his jaw as he remembered having to flee yet another apartment that had come under attack by a monster that had tracked him. They had both agreed he’d stay at the camp for the year, hoping that the time away might let the scent die down a tad and allow her to find a place that was more…defensible.

The memory annoyed him, his inability to fight the monster off had caused it and he’d pushed himself for much of the winter break to ensure it didn’t happen again. He continued on, relishing in hearing about what his mother had been getting up to in his absence and how she’d made the trek to Calgary to watch the Sens beat the Flames and how she wished he could’ve been there. The time away had interfered massively with his hockey, relying solely on Hermes kids for NHL results was a foolish idea, especially as some of them felt no requirement to accurately report the results. Likewise, he hadn’t been able to practie against proper opponents either, making do with whatever year-rounder campers ventured onto the frozen lake with him. He would admit that hockey mixed with a bunch of ADHD kids with magic powers was certainly entertaining, it wasn’t much good when it came to practising the traditional format.

She’d finished the letter, hoping that he was still enjoying himself and making more friends and that he’d hopefully be able to return home at the end of the summer. Whether that ws true or not, he decided to leave unanswered, best not to let himself get his hopes up.

He put the letter back into his pocket, enjoying the cookie, baked by his mother, whilst he thought about the past year. It had been pretty fun, in between the periods where he tested himself. He’d hung out with Alec a decent amount, the thawing lake allowed them many lazy hours along its shores fishing, at least until Jamie came along and disturbed the peace. Damned girl could never seem to leave Alec alone, he almost felt sorry for him. Almost, since the more she focused on him, the less time she had to terrorise the rst of the camp.

Children of Ares tended to have a certain stereotype in how they act and present themselves, with many of his sons not even bothering to try push back against what everyone thought about them and embraced it whole heartedly. Garnet got the whole concept, but never really felt good during the stage he attempted to emulate them. So he’d been forced to try to forge some other friendships, hanging a few times with Alyssa from Demeter. Even when he’d arrived, he;d been impressed at the sheer strength she possessed, yet despite that shared respect, no friendship had really formed over the years, mainly they acted as emissaries should trouble arise between the two cabins. He’d put his best foot forward this year though, helping in the fields whenever lifting was needed and doing what he could, though he really had no green thumb. Many dead flowers stood testament to this fact, but she seemed alright with his presence.

Not content with befriending those that were his match in a fist fight, he'd also tried to be friends with Aurelia from Iris, she seemed genial enough, but he felt his efforts dashed when some of his siblings started to roughhouse him in front of her. Didn’t take a genius to see the tie-dye-wearing daughter of the rainbow felt little enthusiasm to violence, and children of the god of war by extension. Wasn’t unsurprising, a bunch of kids felt awkward around him and his lot, their combined aura just had the effect of putting people on edge around them. Great in Capture the Flag, not so much when trying to make friends. Then, last month, that Bridget girl decided to arrive. That girl was something else entirely, he felt an urge to try and befriend her immediately, Alec had even agreed with him, suggesting he put his French to use, since she was a daughter of Venus after all. He always thought staring daggers was just a saying, but the look on her face when he started talking made him think she was fully prepared to put him in the ground then and there. Alec seemed to enjoy the interaction, he guessed she must just be sick of people coming up to her and speaking French, because obviously that’s the language she prefers to speak. Then there was that other Roman arrived just the other day, he’d originally not bothered trying to befriend her, assuming it’d go the same way as many of his other attempts, but then he’d heard she was also the daughter of a war goddess, so maybe it might be more succesful this time around. He hadn’t brought the idea up to Alec yet, and given the outcome of the last time he did, he wasn’t all too tempted to try again.

He laid his head backwards, letting his neck bend slightly against the high end of the stump, closing his eyes as he listened to the soft trickle of the stream flowing gently. All in all, a successful winter break in terms of doing things, less so when it came to establishing proper friendships, beyond the basic ‘Oh, Garnet? Yeah, I know him, big fella, super nice?” that everyone seemed to think when it came to him. He was necessarily sad that they thought he was nice, it was more so they never seemed to try look beyond that,

He stayed like that for a while, enjoying the heat of the sun against his skin and the isolation his little chair granted him. He thought that he dozed off for a short while, as he suddenly became aware that his heart was beating slightly stronger, the same way it did when fighting was nearby, though he couldn’t hear anything. He assumed it was some sort of animal thinking it had his measure. He reached down, grabbing his bat and lifted it up. In that brief time, the bat had shifted from its disguised form, into a celestial bronze hammer that glittered in the direct sunlight of the clearing. He waved it disinterestedly.

“Keep moving, bud” he said to no on in particular, just assuming something was near him “I promise you, you do not want the battering you’ll get if you don’t”

[Faal Lot Himdah]

Valeria "Val" Lorino
Camp Half-Blood
June 15th, 2037

---

"Looks to be almost lunch boys." Val spoke as she turned to look at her fellow Roman demigods. There were three others, and like her, they wore armour and were armed. Ready for a fight at a moments notice. Even if they were not expecting anything to happen, they would not be caught unprepared. After all, they were Roman.

"When we get back to the garrison you will be free to get lunch." Val said as she turned around again, continuing to walk. To anyone who did not know Val personally, but knew of her position, finding her among a patrol may have been strange. She was a Centurion. A commander, a politician, someone who did not need to be on a simple patrol. But those who knew Val personally would not be surprised. She was more than willing to go on patrols with those under her command for a few reasons; it gave her opportunity to directly interact with her fellow legionnaires and build greater relationships with them; and also gave her a reason to get away from her more normal duties as a Centurion.

There was a third reason. It was less important than the other two, but it still played a factor in Val's decision to go on patrol today. It was a beautiful day. Sunny, with a few clouds in the sky. A gentle ocean breeze keeping it from getting too hot. Going on patrol would give her a reason to enjoy the weather, without her appearing to abandon her duties.

"So, Santino." Val spoke again, "So, this is your first time visiting our Greek cousins right?"

"Yes ma'am." Santino responded

"You can drop the ma'am." She shook her head, "Makes me sound old. Besides, we are just on patrol right now. I won't tell the second."

Santino just nodded as Val continued, "I think you will enjoy it here. Its definitely a breath of fresh air. And an excellent experience. I know there are still Centurions and Senators that don't appreciate the Greek way of things, but ignore those narrow minded beliefs for now. You can not grow without being tested, and these Greeks are very good at testing us."

"Yeah, with their pranks." one of the other Romans said with a moan, "Last summer we had to repaint the walls of the barracks."

"Enjoy them Wilson," Val chuckled, "At least the harmless ones. Pranks don't fly back at Camp Jupiter, so enjoy the harmless ones here. More importantly, learn from them. How did they manage to do X? How can we prevent it? Ask those questions, and find those answers. Use their pranks to improve ourselves."

"And maybe plan to get back at them?" Santino asked looking at his fellow Romans, who responded by smiling with approval.

"When in Rome." Val smirked, "Or in this case, Camp Half-Blood. Of course, don't go to extreme with it. We are still Legionnaires after all. We have our pride and our duty."

As Val finished, the four Romans came to a stop. Over the gentle breeze, they all heard it. Howling in the distance. Turning to the direction it came from, Val looked at a specific, well known pine tree not far away. She saw the guards in the distance start running down the hill out of sight along with another individual.

"Henry." Val said and looked at the third Roman, "Get back to the garrison, we may need reinforcements."

The third Roman, Henry, nodded and began to run towards the garrison.

"Santino. Wilson. With me." Val said as she took off towards the tree, towards the source of the howling.

[Lunas Legion]

Cornelia Drakestone
Camp Half-Blood
June 15th, 2037

Stupid summer. Stupid monsters. Stupid Greeks. Even stupider Romans. What was it about this damned season that meant everything always happened in summer? Cornelia stormed through the woods, boots carving marks into the dirt. What was it about demigods that made them hear danger and compel themselves to throw themselves towards it? Was she missing something here? Some biological urge to go and pick fights with monsters despite the danger? Some divine prodding to do so? Had her experiences robbed her of that instinct, or was she just... Different?

It didn't help her mood regardless, mulling thoughts like that.

She stormed back towards Cabin 11. She refused to call it the Hermes Cabin out of principle. Sure, it was, but it didn't house just children of Hermes. All the unclaimed were just... Bundled in there without care or thought hoping that eventually their parent would claim them. She turned her glare to the sky briefly. Fuck you, mother or father. She swore in her head. It made her feel a bit better, the pit of anger she could feel lessening just the smallest amount. No one got in her way. Maybe it was the attack on... Wherever it was happening by who the fuck cared. Maybe it was how she moved, with purpose and an angry look in her eyes. Maybe it was a bit of both.

Campers were running in, campers were running out. She hadn't learned names to put to faces. Hadn't seen the point, when she wanted out of this stupid building. The wood creaked audibly from the force under her steps as she headed to her room, grabbing the duffel bag that lay at the foot of her bed. What colour it was, she had no idea; now it was the brown that all things faded to, marked with wood and dirt stains and what might have been old bloodstains, she really wasn't sure. The bag wasn't even intact, visible gashes torn through it occasionally letting the contents show. She hefted it over her shoulder and headed the opposite way from all the chaos and trouble and violence, down towards the beach.

The beach was pretty much the one place that she could almost, almost be certain that no one would bother her. There wasn't anything exciting there to show new campers, there. There wasn't much to do there unless they were doing fireworks, and they weren't doing fireworks right now, so... Yeah. Just herself, the crash of the waves and the heat of the sun. Peace, or as close as she could get to it here.

She set the duffel bag down, almost gently, and knelt down by it to unpack. She left her shotgun inside; sand and mechanical components did not mix, and if she had to take it to Cabin 9 to get it fixed they would just take it away from her if she showed she couldn't look after it. It was one of their old camper's weapons, after all, and they were the only people on camp who could give her shells for it, so... Yeah. Best not to piss them off.

Even if those shells were only birdshot, and they had been very clear that she'd only be getting those from them as long as she was responsible with it and returned the casings after use for reloading. Any of the actual anti-monster shells or fancier shells the original wielder had made they were keeping locked up somewhere securely that was not the armoury, she'd checked, but they'd release them to her if it was, if she remembered correctly, 'a Second Battle of Manhattan and never before.' She didn't care about if she could use it on monsters or not, that wasn't what she had it for. If she needed to kill monsters, she had a knife and a mace-thing.

She pulled out a bundle of long metal rods and walked down the beach, sticking them into the sand a few paces apart, making a staggered diagonal line towards the sea. She returned to the bag, pulling out cans, bottles and other bits of vaguely circular scrap, setting them atop the poles.

She had it as a survival tool. Shot wouldn't hurt a monster, but a second of smoke and fire and noise that made a monster hesitate just a little or flinch? That could make the difference between death and life. Also, for whatever reason, shooting helped her relax. Just a bit. Sparring didn't help, it just made her feel worse. Inadequate, somehow. Or like she wasn't doing anything at all if she was just whacking at a training dummy.

She made her way back up the beach, and eyed up her firing range. She reached into the duffel bag and pulled a small steel box into view, unlocking the combination lock and pulling a single shell out. Only seven shells at a time, kept locked in a box at all times with a combination only known to her and them. Cabin 9 rules, again. She could understand, even if she didn't like it.

She slid it into the shotgun. She glanced to the sides. No one around she might hit, obviously. And the sea didn't care how much shot accidentally went into it. She pumped the barrel, and aimed down the iron sights at the nearest target.

Blam.

The can rattled, not quite being blasted off the pole. She felt more relaxed already, although she never quite knew why. Maybe it was the focus, letting her zone out almost. Maybe it was the distance from everything else. Maybe it was something she hadn't realised yet. It'd keep her occupied for a while. Distracted. She'd have to stop eventually, of course. She'd run out of shells, need to return them to Cabin 9, they'd need to reload them and give her another seven in a day or three, maybe longer. Whenever they had the time. It was nice of them, honestly. One of the few-

Blam.

Nice things about this place. The very few. She moved onto the next target. She'd take her time with this one. Stretch things out. Maybe the attack would frighten all the new campers away. Probably not, but she could dream, right?

[Turkducken]

Co-Written between Turkducken and White Bluff

Dante & Bridget O'Neill
Camp Half-Blood
June 15th, 2037

The Camp buzzed with energy.

New arrivals had piled in the previous days and finally it was time for the first day of camp.

Excited young faces pushed past others, their elder peers rolling their eyes and going about their business. Some reuniting with friends, others taking advantage of their seniority. The first day at the Arena was no exception. The youngest with the most to prove and abundant enthusiasm always crowd the Arena for the earliest chance to equip themselves for their new lives.

For the moment however, a large crowd of eyes were fixated on just one of their peers.

He had started with a single straw dummy. He took his time warming up, a few cursory strikes at the armor, a facade of a parry, striking the dummy with the pommel of his sword. Then, with a casual roll of the shoulders, performed a jumping spin. Lopping the straw head from straw shoulders. More dummies magically appeared before him, and in a split second of slashing they too fell.

What seasoned campers there were fell back with a roll of the eyes.

“Of course He’d be doing this.” they exasperatedly sighed, “He does this every year.”

The floor had become his own stage.

He turned to the spectators, “Alright you new kids! I’m a Counselor so watch closely!” he smirked, before charging, plunging his sword deep into a straw chest. He slashed to the left and the dummy’s straw innards spilled forth. In another swift movement he spun and lopped another helmet containing straw brains off a straw body. Sprinting past a weapons rack he grabbed a bident. With a sudden stop and heft, the now spear flew through the air and burst through a straw body into a wooden wall.

He stopped, turning to the crowd with a raise of his fist.

“This is what we train for!”

There was a youthful cheer as the younger kids were easier to please. Any one fifteen or older just shook their heads.

“Wow he’s so cool!” quipped one of the younglings to another.

An experienced senior camper leaned over, “Just wait till you get to know him kid. He’s just a showoff.”

Back on stage he locked eyes on a distant target. He grabbed the wooden practice blade higher than the hilt and weighed it carefully. With a sudden determination he swung, the blade arcing through the air, before striking through the straw body of the dummy.

The young crowd erupted in cheers.

He turned back to the crowd, raising both hands in celebratory victory.

As the younger members cheered for the older boy, a feminine, slightly Irish accented voice carried over the crowd. "Impressive, Son of Pluto." Bridget made her way through the kids, her voluminous auburn hair catching the sun to almost appear aflame, her green eyes bright with mischief and determination, "let's see how well you do against something not made of straw." She slams the butt of her spear on the hard ground with a smirk.

Dante frowned at the other invocation of his father. He eyed the would-be challenger up and down, a brief recognition of seeing her before flashing dimly in his eyes.

“You’re one of the new Romans right?” the question was dismissive, he brushed her off with another few words, “Nah, I’m not interested in tainting the relationship between our two camps.”

He folded his arms, lazily and cocked his hips to the side.

“Come back some other day and maybe you’ll get a chance at taking on the best and brightest.”

Her smirk doesn't diminish as she looks him up and down, "I am a new Roman here, Bridget O'neill, Optio Centurionius of the 5th Cohort, Daughter of Venus." She said in a steady and firm voice, "And do not worry about the relationship between our camps, they can live with us sparring."

Upon his remark of returning later, her smirk grew, "What? Afraid to lose to the Roman born Daughter of Venus?" Making sure to say it loud enough that the crowd around them could hear. "I mean fair enough, I take down Sons of Mars twice your size."

“Look sweetness,” Dante began with a slight raise of the brow, “I don’t know how they do things in Rome, but we don’t talk about our ‘romantic conquests’ in public and definitely not in front of the impressionable children.”

He walked over to the dummy holding his sword, “But if you wanna have a go and get whipped, by all means.” he pulled the wooden blade from its straw holster, “Come and try me sister.”

"Oh you wish you were hearing about that Love." She gave as a retort, as she got into the eye of the crowd with him.

"Gonna stick with the wooden one? I guess we'll see how that works for ya," she smirked at him again as she got into position with her spear and shield.

“You wouldn’t want to be on the other end of Stygian iron.” he said flatly, pulling the dull blade close and upright, “Ladies first.” he spat, a chill flowing softly over the stone between them.

"Such a gentleman." Bri returned with, she crouched behind her shield as she slowly side stepped, making sure to keep an eye on him, knowing her best bet was distance and speed.

After what seemed like an hour in her head she placed a careful spear lunge towards him.

Dante’s stance was defensive, knowing both that he was at a disadvantage with choice of weapon and range. Her lunge was swiped away with a wooden *thunk* that echoed over the Arena.

He grinned at his opponent between their weapons.

“That would make us almost even.” he thought to himself, keeping his defense high as he attempted to close the gap between them.

The red head smiled back at him, "Not as easy as a straw dummy, is it," her smile returned to a smirk as he tried to close the gap. She took a protective step back as he moved towards her, before giving a side swipe towards his leg with the pole of the spear.

Finding an opportunity, Dante leapt over the spear. His opponent might’ve had the advantage in reach, but he can get much much closer in far less time then it would take her to recover.

With a silent concentration he brought the wooden blade swinging hard from the right.

Her eyes widened a bit as he brought down his sword, Bri brought up her shield in the nick of time, the metallic sound of the strike rang almost like a gong off the stone of the arena. She looked him in the eyes and used a shield bash to drive him back a few feet.

"Not half bad," she flashes a smile at him, "truly impressed."

The force of his impact against her shield had cracked his blade on a fissure point. Dante grimaced. He had swung that sword hard and she had taken it well. Bringing his distracted mind back to reality was the bash against the skull that rung him like a bell.

He stumbled back from his opponent’s attack. He shook his head, now he was pissed.

Still deathly silent he pitched the shattered remains of his practice blade into her face. Filling the precious gaps between them and the moments of travel time to leap up over her shield and bring a hammering blow right into her face.

The blow staggers her a bit, before a growl erupts from her throat, her smile and smirk gone, replaced with a more serious frown. She again to send him back a few feet, kicks at his chest, before preparing her shield and spear again to not let him through.

Flying back by the force of Bridget’s kick, Dante slides to a stop upright and arms raised defensively. The playful optimism and hope of a quick defeat faded. The crowd of excited youngsters had quieted as the fight turned much more serious and real than a lot were expecting. The older

campers, however, leaned in. They practically feel the energy of two accomplished demigods fighting for real. Such a display of strength by both, inspite of restraining their more magical abilities.

For a few tense moments the two are locked in a grappling of the eyes. Outcome unclear as to what comes next.

Breaking the tension was a bloodcurdling howl.

The youngest and least traveled immediately overcome by nausea and chills. The seasoned stood on edge.

For Dante himself, an uncomfortable chill ran down his spine.

Bestial animal sounds broke out from the far side of the camp. Screaming and the sounds of combat followed.

He swallowed heavily, ignoring the cries, as to not take his eyes off his opponent for a moment.

The red head swallowed as well, before releasing a sigh and straightened, "truce?"
“Only if you admit defeat.” his eyes were clear and unfeeling, not a single shred of doubt or hesitation in his voice.

"I will do no such thing. We can continue this, after we find out what that howl was, deal?" She was defiant, her aura gave off an "until the last man" energy.

“I know what those sounds are.” he barked, moments between precious moments passed before, “Fine.” he muttered, easing back from his fighting stance, “Ladies first.”

"Gentleman as always," she says before running off in the direction of the howl and shouts.

His guard only dropped when her back was turned to him completely. He watched he steps carefully, waiting for the exact moment she left the ring. His whole body relaxed as she left the Arena.

He sighed heavily, taking a moment to feel the soon to be bruised impact over his shirt. He winced, "Sloppy. Not Good Enough." were his final thoughts as he ran to his cabin.

[Pragia]

Jack Hiller
Murray Hill, Manhattan
June 13th, 2037, 2 days ago

The rising tones of last century classic rock came from Jack's phone, and his eyes would snap open, rolling onto his side under a pale blue blanket and sliding out of bed. The sudden rush of morning adrenaline propelling the teen to his feet as he looked out his highrise window. The sun was only barely out, and as he looked out over the East River to Hunter’s Point, he took a deep breath. Today he’d be heading back to camp. He had spent the last year laying low at high school, finishing his junior year with decent enough grades to make it into senior year.

He knew he wouldn’t be going to college, for one reason or another. Either he’d die on some quest he’d be dragged out to, or in the event he survived, he’d sooner become a full-time camper and seclude himself on long island than sit through another set of lectures on something he’d never use. He spent more time after school in cafes than he did doing homework. He’d throw himself into the shower to clean up, and let the ideas begin to flow.

He had spent the last few weeks stocking up on the good stuff: from toilet paper to energy drinks to beach supplies, he was going to enjoy himself and make sure the rest of camp could get in on it too. Cabin 11 always had an understanding that the offerings of camp, while far from terrible, were always lacking in some areas. That was why Jack would make runs, and bring in the benefits of modern civilization that CHB missed every now and then. Some extra coin was always nice too. He figured he’d probably blow through his packed car in the first day and would need to make regular runs for the first week.

Of course, Argus and the Harpies didn’t appreciate violations of curfew, and Jack didn’t appreciate them either. So it was a matter of drop-offs and pick-ups at the edge of camp to get all the goods in. He knew Weston would have plenty of extra hands, Jack could only hope that those hands didn’t take too much of his stock before it made it to the Cabin.

After finishing washing up, he’d throw on a blue dress shirt and pants, pulling on suspenders before pulling out one of his beige sport coats, capping himself with a matching straw-colored fedora before emerging from his room. His dad was sitting at the dining table he was using as a home office. Lawrence, Larry to Jack, was a larger man, and despite Jack’s true parentage, he looked the part of Jack’s dad, with the same wavy brown hair and angular face. “Morning Jack, how’s it looking for today?”

“Looking solid.” He’d say smoothly, opening the refrigerator and taking out some milk and pouring himself a cup of coffee. “Traffic won’t be too bad, packed up already. How are you holding up?” he knew that his step-father was burning the midnight oil almost as hard as his mom was.

“Had better days, been hard looking for positions around here. I’ll be headed down to the corner later to try asking there.” Jack would nod, turned away as he poured himself a bowl of cereal as well. “I know they’ll take you in if you really want it pops.” Jack didn’t quite understand it himself, his father liked the finer things in life, and they were by no means ever going to struggle, so why push himself so hard looking for work?

“Yeah, but its about finding the right place for me. I don’t want them going easy on me.” He’d say, almost dismissively, Jack knew his personal success wounded his father’s pride. The truth that they lived just a few blocks down from Olympus was not secret to him. He had pieced together that he wasn’t Jack’s real father around when he was ten, there were arguments of course, but he had come to terms, and had decided to step up and help raise him and his younger brother. It was Larry, not his mom, not even his parent of divine power, who had taken him across all the buildings of the financial district, who had encouraged him in school, who had helped him become an adult.

“I wouldn’t worry too much about that, they’re going to squeeze you for everything you got. Its their job.” He’d chuckle, sitting himself at the kitchen table. His dad would too, taking his coffee over with him and sitting across “So, what are you thinking for this summer?” He’d say, plopping a small cloth pouch onto the table, it clanked with large coins inside.

Jack would continue to smirk, taking out a drachma from the pouch and holding it in the palm of his hand “I think I’m going to take it easy. Running a camp store is small fry for me now, and honestly, I think its time I tried to give back a little.” Larry would give an amused laugh “You sure you haven’t got a fever or something? Or is there some doppelganger monster I should be running from right about now?”

Jack gave a sigh. “I mean it, still gotta make sure these divine rugrats know there’s no such thing as a free lunch, but I don’t gotta be breaking kneecaps over red bulls.” Larry seemed to soften some at that “Gotta say, that’s an unexpected amount of perspective from ya. Maybe you are ready for when your mom throws you out of here.” He’d joke, the son of Hermes sipping his coffee with a grin “She’s throwing you out right after me, old man. I don’t think Chiron’s interested in middle aged stockbrokers.”

“Hey, who’s to say I don’t got some blood of some god way back? I think I’d look pretty good in a toga with some laurels.” Jack just shook his head. Finishing his coffee quickly. “I’ll pass that one on to the legionaries, maybe get you something from the other camp.” His mind was already racing, and caffeine only helped rouse him some more as he got to his feet, his cereal only half finished.

“I do mean it though Jack, you’re doing us both proud, have a safe summer.” His stepfather would say, getting up as well and holding out his hands. Jack only hesitated for a moment before hugging him. “I’ll do my best.” was all he could really offer as consolation.

[Aidannadia]

Ward Greer

Nothing. Darkness. Tranquility. The absence was comforting for a moment, but the sudden rush of being propelled forward unto nothing nearly caused Ward to hurl. In the distance and rapidly approaching, a stature before a threshold stood in resolute attention. The gaze of the guardsman had an otherworldly presence and weight. Ward began trying to stop himself, but his body was not moving of his own accord, the race of someone else's locomotion approaching the guard. At the last moment, as soon as Ward thought he might actually get past the guard and into the threshold, through whatever dark passageway lie beyond their reach, he felt the impale of a spear in his chest. The world faded away.

Fire. Smoke. Howling and ravenous growls. A familiar scream. Ward opened his eyes to see his mother ripped asunder by Hellhounds. The smell of sulphur on the air began to sting his nostrils, his eyes already watering from pure terror as one of the hound's eyes met his. He screamed in his head to move, but his legs remained still as the dark dog began running towards him, and then just before its mouth closed on him, just as he began to feel the sting of flame on his young flesh, a flash of movement before him and rush of comfort washed over him.

Before he could see his savior's face, the scene shifted once more to a vision of the one he recognized as having been there that day. He saw Valeria, prone on the ground, and as he approached to view her, a single audible breath exhaled but once boefore the scenes shifted once more. Places and people and things he did not recognize flashed before him. A dark laugh echoed in the darkness. A fearful face he didn't recognize struggling to escape... Demons, devils, monsters and witches all approaching him. The boy fell to his knees as these spirits accosted him in tongues, flying towards him just to pull away at the last moment, only for the darkness to be pierced by the gaze of the watchmen boring into him once more as he begged for release from this hellscape.

---

Cool air. Seabreeze.

I'm at Camp Half-Blood. He rose from lying upon his cot, the sleeping forms of his garrison apparent to him. The won't be up for a few hours.

Silently, Ward exited the cabin and entered into the morning air. He had been late to bed last night, having pretended to keep watch. When the shifts changed, he decided to try and sleep once more, to mixed results, but he welcomed the chance to get moving this early before everyone began to go about their day in earnest. He wasn't sure of what to make of the Greeks as of yet, but once thing of which he was sure was that they were a raucous bunch. As well, guard duty had always relaxed him. There was something comforting about the silence of night that had drawn him to it, and in the last few months with Alec gone, his fellow legionnairs began to explain how good he was at it. They'd even begun asking him to cover their shifts, and he happily obliged them.

As he approached the fleece, he yawned and saw a fidgety camper he recognized as a son of Hermes who immediately motioned him over. "Hey, hey kid, the chu- er uh, the new Roman guy right? I heard you've been offering to take watch. I have to be somewhere for a uh... logistics arrangement. How's about you just fill in for a second here and I'll cover you some other time. Deal?" Ward gave a slight nod, unsure of what he'd ask for from the person, but the mercurial teenager did not wait to offer a name or any details as to what he'd do for Ward.

A so the unclaimed son of a Roman god stood there at attention as the morning began to roll around. He stared out onto the field before him, grass fluttering in the breeze. The other guard on duty started to nod off, but Ward didn't see fit to disturb them. Occasionally this would happen at Camp Jupiter as well, and he'd been told on numerous occasions 'not to tell anyone' with a threatening glare, so he'd always saw best to let them rest. It had always confused him how they could get so comfortable with their eyes closed, but other people had sweeter dreams than he as was made aware to him whenever someone asked about his own dreams.

The hours rolled by, and Ward began to wonder where his Hermetic friend had scampered off to; Perhaps he had forgotten to check back in and fallen asleep, or maybe he'd have found a friend on the way back and was chatting with them. Maybe he'd fallen and gotten hurt though, as fear began to creep into the young man's thoughts. He could be bleeding out in camp, having tripped in the dark without a sight like Ward's. The mere thought of the poor camper lying unconscious potentially hurt behind him somewhere nearly brought him to tears. Something was definitely wrong. He could feel the approach of danger. The smell of sulphur on the air.

A now familiar face burst from the treeline with a styr in toe. The world began to slow, and the sounds of howls echoed in his ears, the scenes from his nightmare not but a few hours before rapidly playing out before him. Did I fall asleep? No... no this is real. As if answering his silent question, a voice rang out.

"C'mon guys! We gotta help!" Ward did not turn to see who said it, and moved to aid the girl...

But his legs refused to move. He looked down at them, trying to will them forward. Commotion began, and he heard arrows soaring overhead, one lodging itself in the beast. More voices rang out, the murmur of camp becoming dark and alert. Horns sounded.

A familair voice in the distance began. "Sant-o. Wil-n. Wi-me."

He again willed himself to move, looking onward at the young girl trying to escape these hounds, the vision of his mother begin torn apart playing in his head. He nearly expected for the dream to shift again, but no one had yet to step in front of him. There must be... there must be something I can...I can't move but there's always... With a hurried panic, Ward pulled his pilum from his back, still attached to his shield, and lobbed it in the direction of a hellhound. The spear hurled through the air towards the beasts.

And it landed short of all of them.

[The Anarcho-Syndicalist Commune]

Kore Russo
Camp Halfblood
June 15th, 2037

Kore still had no idea what she was doing. To be honest, half the time she thought she must have fallen into a coma or something as a kid and this was all some crazy hallucination following it. The homeless life as a child, running around New England and New York, oh and the constant monsters hunting her. If this was a coma, she had to be dying. That was the only way to rationalize this insanity besides the idea that it all might be real. She really, really hoped it was the latter and not the former.

When Lander had explained the concept of this camp to her, she had thought that this journey was going to be more or less as simple as the various times she had made similar ones in the past. She hadn't counted on it being ten times more dangerous than it had ever been before. Lander had mentioned something about her smelling more now that she knew the truth, but Kore had thought that was just the usual homeless joke. Turns out that hanging out with smelly hobos might have been the only thing keeping her alive this long. Kore thought she preferred not knowing the truth.

Oh that truth? She was whatever a demigod was. Lander had said that her dad was some ancient greek god. That the monsters were hunting her because they were enemies of whoever he was. Kore was pretty sure most of them were just hungry. Case in point, whatever the fresh hell these dogs were. She had seen them before, or rather had seen their mangy cousins. Big black newfies that hung to the shadows and seemed to stalk her for the right opportunity. And of course there was the night they had torn her mother apart. These were different though. They were well fed, with full coats, and the size of SUVs.

They had woken up from their small camp this morning to the sound of the howls, like air raid sirens. She had managed to hotwire a car, but they had been slammed off the road two miles away from whatever this camp was. They were lucky that the pack had spread out for the hunt, because the impact had vaporized the animal. She had gotten out with a few bruises. Lander wasn't so lucky, as near as she could tell he had cut his leg badly, and broken his arm. The run had been made that much harder having to support him as they broke for it.

They broke out of the treeline from the woods they had been running in, greeted with the sight of a nondescript large house atop a big hill. A single pine tree stood next to it. Lander groaned and said "Kore, you gotta run up there now. Get help!" Kore had begun to shake her head when Lander insisted "I'll make it to, but you gotta get to the house now. Trust me on this."

She breathed in and prepared to sprint, putting the goat man on his own weight. "You better not be lying." She took off up the hill, Lander following as fast as he could behind her. Just as she began to make her break towards the top of the hill, her instincts took over and she felt herself dive down. An arrow whizzed over her head. She turned around to see it vaporize one of the dogs, though she could see several more running behind it. Picking herself back up, she continued to spring up the hill as she saw three figures seemingly materialize out of thin air. Two of them were dressed like Spartans she had seen on book covers and movie posters, albeit with jeans, while the third was a redheaded boy holding a bow and arrow, wearing an orange t-shirt. As she reached the trio, she turned her head to notice that Lander had fallen over. The archer had taken out the dog closest to where the Satyr was lying, but there were more closing.

Turning to one of the figures, she reached out and grabbed the spear he was holding, yelling "Gimme that!"

The boy let go of it before tapping his watch. A sword materialized that cracked with lightening as he pulled his helmet off, revealing a handsome face with a mane of black hair. "The new kids got balls. Let's get em'!"

Kore broke herself away from the other boy and went charging back down the hill. As one of the hounds almost reached the Satyr, she found her body moving automatically, leaping into the air and bringing the spear down into the dog's face. It vaporized at the impact of the glowing spear head. Kore found herself standing over Lander yelling "Come and get him!" as the red headed boy let loose more arrows and yelled "WE NEED HELP ON THE HILL!"

[Faal Lot Himdah]

Valeria "Val" Lorino
Camp Half-Blood
June 15th, 2037

---

As they closed in on the hill, Val could faintly hear the sound of voices on the other side. Too faint to be understood over the sound of three Romans in armour running up hill, but just loud enough to faintly hear. However, there was one voice that was heard clearly. A call for help. A call that Val would not leave unanswered. As such, she picked up the pace, her fellow Romans following suite.

When she crested the hill, the situation became more clear. Alex stood a top the hill and Ward nearby. Down at the bottom of the hill, two Greek guards fought alongside a girl with a spear, around a downed Faun. A number of hellhounds approaching the group.

"More on the way." Val said as she stopped momentarily beside the son of Minerva, looking past him at Ward, "Good try, Ward, you'll hit next time. Now, into the fray."

As she spoke, Santino and Wilson threw there own pila down towards the hellhounds. While Wilson missed, Santino's struck true, turning another hellhound to dust. As the hellhound turned to dust Val drew her gladius, and charged down the hill with Santino and Wilson following suit. Their charge was definitely not silent, as their armour clanged and Val screamed. However, while it got the attention of a few of the hellhounds, it would not be perturbed even as two of the hellhounds began moving towards the charging Romans.

The leading of the two hellhounds lunged forward at Wilson. Its jaw open, waiting to snap down on the demigod. However, it would be met with Wilson's scutum, as Wilson moved to slam into the lunging beast. The impact was substantial, as it succeeded in stunning and knocking the hellhound to the ground, but at the same time, Wilson was knocked to the ground. However, before the first hellhound could recover, Val plunged her gladius into its neck, twisting as it turned to dust.

The second of the charging hellhounds was not far behind the first. As such, while Val was twisting her blade in the first, it was lunging towards Val. However, it would not make contact with Val, as Santino lunged towards it. As Val turned, Santino was already plunging his own sword into its side. The second beast, turning to dust just before its jaws reached Val.

Unfazed, Val nodded to Santino before continuing forward. The two Romans taking a moment longer than Val before following. On their faces, slight surprise that they managed to stand against the hellhounds and feeling their slightly increased strength. A product of standing alongside the Daughter of Valor.

Val's push forward came to a stop only once she stood next to the girl with the spear. Nodding to the girl before glancing to either side to see Santino and Wilson catching up.

"Santino! Wilson! We hold here." Val shouted her orders, and the trio of Romans prepared for the hellhounds.

[White Bluff]

Bridget "Bri" O'neill
Half-Blood
June 15th, 2037

The red head ran as fast she could in the direction of the howling and shouting, she could feel the trickle of warm liquid from her nose, a prize for her "sparring session", she quickly wiped it away with the back of her hand, which was now stained with the bright scarlet colour of her blood.

The air burning in her lungs, and her heart pound as she drew closer to the hill with the large pine and golden fleece. The shouting and fighting was louder now, she could make out Val and Alex's voices above the ruckus.

As she crested the hill she saw the scene, overlooking the hounds running from the woods towards the hill, Alex and Ward near the top; Val, Dan, and others protecting a downed faun and a girl.

"Santino! Wilson! We hold here." Bri could hear Val shout, she raced passed Alex and Ward as she rushed into the fray. She let out a war cry as she used her momentum going down hill as she slammed her shield into a lunging beast, knocking in back before piercing it with her spear, it turning to dust.

"Val! I'm here to help!" She shouted as she joined the formation with the others. Her signature smirk plastered on her face, a certain twinkle in her eyes as she prepares for a fight.

[Ormata]

Charlie Cooper
Cabin #20, Hecate
Camp Half-Blood

”...so we can see that what you want to do and what happens at times aren’t the same thing. Willpower plays a-”

A yell in the distance. Charlie’s head snapped over as he paused, and the class of newer kids paused too as they sat around him in the semicircle. Some of them were uncertain, others had their eyes widen just a little in fear, and those select few started to get up from their seats, ready to lend a hand. He couldn’t hear much after, aside from commotion elsewhere as others yelled out, gathering their eager members to see what was up. It was from the…the hill, the tree. Guards were stationed there. The Romans patrolled around and were fast enough to get stuck in. And yet…they were yelling. It was something more than the guards could handle. A cold chill ran over Charlie at that thought, nothing to do with the sea.

Oh, heck. That he visibly sighed and deflated didn’t really register with the Hecate camper as that thought came and went. The sorts of things that made guards cry for help was, really, not a short list. They needed help with a lot of things, though calling for help with some of those monsters was more for help afterwards.

“I’ll go see what’s up,” Charlie went, clicking his teeth as he reached down for that quarterstaff. “John, make sure nothing weird happens.”

With that, he strode off and away to the tree, quick as can be with quarterstaff in one hand, the other reaching into his pocket. As he ran, Charlie could see others mulling about here and there in their little groups, many trying to figure out if it was something they actually needed to become involved in. He snorted, breathing deep in with his nose and popping a little battery in his mouth, tongue pushing it up into the roof, and immediately feeling that extra bit of energy. He ran a good bit faster, legs stretching out to barely touch the ground. Crest another little hill and, well, there it was before him, that commotion, that nonsense.

He could see hellhounds, ones the size of bears, running out from the forest after a girl and, lagging some ways behind her, a satyr. A scattering of demigods were about, an archer, some Romans in a formation. He could see a few faces amid the chaos, hellhounds erupting into smoke to turn the field into a strangely modern scene. The girl who was running caught up to a few demigods, grabbing a spear from one’s kid’s hands before going back down the hill to charge. Others followed, and Charlie saw their goal: that satyr had tripped, fallen, was struggling to get up. His heart dropped at the thought, and yet…and yet his legs kept going.

Feet barely touching the ground, off at an angle to the others’ charge, he spat out the battery, brought his quarterstaff up to the high guard, breathed-out long and hard as one of the hellhounds turned about, eyes glinting in the light. He couldn’t see the legs tense up, nor the snarl in the mouth, but Charlie could see the hound begin to leap up and out at him in a killing strike. His own eyes went wide as he yelled his response.

“Stulti Carcer!”

Fore-legs up and out, hind legs deadened, the hound barely cleared its own height with the crippled jump. A growl was killed mid-throat as Charlie brought his staff down against the head of the beast, hands low on the quarterstaff as though it were a seven foot long baseball bat. He could feel the impact as it shuddered down on the monster’s skull, giving way as the hellhound erupted into ash. He quickly shifted his grip onto either end, crouching low as legs continued that advance. A roaring maw flew through it, the beast low as well before twisted its head, aiming to bite at Charlie’s legs as the fore-legs came into view.

Gods, they’re bigger up close. He twisted as well, bowing his whole body aside as the staff came down in a deadly arc. The hellhound couldn’t stop his own movement in time, though, even as those teeth came so, so close to Charlie’s legs, and more smoke filled the air. He drew back, back and away from the smoke, breathing hard from the exertion. Eyes danced over what he could see, though, danced as danced as he took it all in, ready for another hellhound to burst into view.

[Revlona]

Jamie Lewis
Daughter of Poseidon

Jamie could be said to have exploded into the combat on the hill, one second one of the larger hellhounds was rearing up to swipe at one of the greeks who had been on duty, the next it was toppling backwards as it turned to dust, a 6 foot long celestial bronze spear protruding from where it had sunk more than half its length into the hounds chest. A sharp and piercing whistle broke through the sounds of battle then as the spear disappeared in a flash of bronze light and a girl in blue jeans, a camp half blood T-Shirt, and with a celestial bronze aspis shield that had a blue trident painted onto its face charged into combat. "Romans, hold the line! Greeks, shore up their flanks!" Jamie cried out. She was a respected member of camp and one of it's combat instructors and counselors, so she hoped that was enough to get people to listen to her.

This hope didn't mean she followed her instructions though. She was a proven one woman fighting machine and always chafed in formation, so with this prior knowledge in hand Jamie lunged forward towards the downed Satyr, dipping and dodging through the still numerous pack of SUV sized hell hounds. "Gotta be the largest pack of SUV types I've ever seen, what's with this girl?" Jamie muttered to herself as she chanced a glance at the newly arrived demigod, dans spear in her hands.

When she got to the downed Satyr, who she now realized was Lander, she didn't stop. Jamie knew her limitations and knew she could do nothing to help Lander that other demigods couldn't do better, instead she drove into the group of three giant dogs which were making their up the hill towards the downed Keeper. The first was ahead of the others and she made quick work of it, driving her spear Thýella into its open jaws as in lunged at her. She grimaced as it whimpered in pain and surprise before exploding into that oh so common cloud of golden dust.

The other two dogs came much slower as they recognized her for the threat that she was. The split up as they approached, obviously trying to have her focus on one while the other came in to either rip her to shreds from behind or do in the prone Lander. Either outcome was less than OK to Jamie and so she once again took the initiative breaking into a sprint towards the two before they could well and truly split up. Halfway to them she hurled her spear like a javelin towards the hell hound on the right and watched it go down in another pile of gold dust, her spear beginning to role down the hill now that it had nothing to keep it there.

The other hound, seeing her weaponless, lunged at her. She took the attack on her shield but the power of it through her back with tremendous force. Jamie rolled twice before her feet caught the ground and she arrested her momentum, skidding to a stop about 5 feet to the left of Lander. She quickly put her free hand to her mouth and that piercingly loud whistle sounded out across the battlefield once more, and again Thýella was in her right hand. "I was hoping to do this without having to use any water but hey, fuck it," Jamie said, the urge to train and better herself always on the forefront of her mind. Lander would realize from her words, and from having known Jamie for a few years, that she had been using the attack as training for combat when water wasn't available to buff her.

Jamie took a canteen from where it was strapped to her hip, opened the cap, and dumped it over her head. The freshwater inside seeped into her skin, leaving her and her clothes dry as she poured it over herself. Jamie had never felt more alive than in that moment, sure she said that every time she used water to enhance her abilities but it was still true.

She darted at the third hell hound then as it's eyes widened with surprise at her new found speed and agility. It swiped a single paw at her and a look of confusion flashed across its face as she leaped into the air, deftly missing the swipe, and lunged towards it, her spear flashing in the sunlight as the hell hound joined its pack mates in dusty death.

With the third hell hound down, Jamie settled into a defensive stance above Lander and glanced at the still numerous pack the others were combating as well as the numbers of hounds who were still sprinting up the hill towards them all.

[Pragia]

Alyssa Thorton
Camp Half Blood
June 15th, 2037

As Allie reached the edge of the strawberry fields, she saw that many campers were already entering formation and fighting off what seemed like a growing pack of the shadowy mastiffs ranging in size from great danes to small cars. The Romans were holding a center by the hill, and there seemed to be someone she didn’t recognize along with a satyr among them. It seemed like the beasts were coalescing, the occasional straggler lashing out and being swiftly dealt with.

Alex was leading archers in raining bronze arrows to try and disperse them. Allie knew that this pack could seriously threaten to surround the growing group as more experienced campers were drawn to the sounds of monsters. She would look back to Aurelia momentarily before saying “Euphorbia milii” and reaching the seed pouch, drawing a trio of quarter-sized seed pods at a time and throwing them one at a time alongside the flanks of the formation, trying to funnel the pack into the formation.

She would close her eyes and even her breathing as she directed the growth of the seeds. Razor walls of fresh green thorny brush would rise as she slowly walked toward the lead formation. Sweat dripped from her brow as her eyes would re-open, rubbing her free arm across her head. She reached out and grabbed a stalk of thorns that would have crippled anyone else, wrapping it around her arm as she took a close boxing stance with her blade.

The growth would continue, the vine on her arm gripping to her but not puncturing her skin as it would more gradually flow out into a rectangular shield of brambles the size of a back windshield. When the newbie ran into the pack with Jamie behind her, Allie would go in as well to try and prevent them from getting surrounded, the Romans similarly advancing.

Staring down one of the hellhounds up close, Allie would falter, the sweat on her face and her expression betraying her weakness to the creature of darkness. It would bar its dagger like teeth and snarl before lunging but despite her trepidation, Allie would hold up her wall of thorns, those fangs crunching into the dense thicket, bloodstains flowing down the vines and onto her arm.

Wrestling the canine, Allie would stab at the creature’s head as it crushed her improvised shield, beginning to get her arm. She would wince as its fangs sank into her arm, its thick hide not being pierced by her blade until she sliced against it, drawing her blade down along its neck, the hook digging into it and cutting, its body being reduced to dust as it bore down on her.

[Finsternia]

Paddy Anderson - Can It Wait Before Coffee?
Camp Half-Blood
June 15th, 2037

"Caramel! It's lunch time!"

The sound of the pitter pattering of paws echo in the Cabin as a corgi runs down the hall and into the room of her owner. She jumps in place and spins around twice as a young man in green places down two bowls, one for food and one for water, for her. "Look at you... Have you been digging at the front lawn again?" Paddy places his hands on his hips, watching as the mud covered pup digs into her food with no care about her owner's admonishments. He could only sigh and shake his head. Camp Half-Blood is a far better place for Caramel, rather than a stuffy apartment in smog covered LA. At least here the little bundle of fur has a lot of space to run and play in, and his half siblings had taken quite a liking for her.

Gods only know that the Apollo kids need a dog to cheer them up, especially the younger ones.

Shaking his head, he returns to his table where a half finished letter sits next to a cup of hot coffee. There's several things that are scattered on the table, like some strings, arrow heads and shafts, mirror pieces, and glass. On the windowsill sit pots of hyacinthus, adding bold splashes of red and purple for the room. As he hums a little tune, Paddy takes his pen to resume where he left.

"Caramel's doing well here, mom. She's got plenty of space to run and hide, and the campers do not mind her. I usually take her for my morning jogs now. I think if I train her well enough she'll probably learn how to hunt...

"...I hope that you're doing well there, mom. It's for the best, I guess. Without me there you won't need to worry about being stalked by weird monster things. No more midnight jumpscares and weird guys with horns and hooves... Please take good care, mom. I'll be sending letters and pictures for you.

"Love, Paddy."

He takes a moment to stare at the finished letter, making sure that everything that he wants his mom to know is in there. She only needs to know that her son and his beloved dog are doing well, that they are doing well without her, and that she is now safe.

"...Yeah... It's... much better this way..." He stands up to pick two hyacinth flowers from the pots in is room, one red and one purple, to send with the letter. He'll need to take it to Chiron sometime today, or maybe this week, if there's not much work to do at Camp. It's usually just training on training, more books on books, more scraps over bruises.

Paddy looks out of his window, taking a good sip of his coffee, as he watches other demigods pass by. The Camp's busier this time, what with the Romans joining in for this year. For the past couple years he's learned to tune out the constant noise of young heroes training, shouting, and whatnot. Without that clutter of sound Camp Half-Blood almost feels like an idyllic summer get away. Fresh air, cool breeze, nice sun-

And it all comes crashing down when the sounds of howling and the rally cries of fellow demigods break the peace. Something about hellhounds at the hill. Paddy sighs as he eyes the coffee mug in his hands. It's still half full.

"Really, dad... You could have said something..."

He grumbles as he puts the mug down on the table and slings the quiver of Celestial bronze arrows over his back. Bracers, boots, and a chest guard follows suit. He gives Caramel a pat before leaving, telling the dog to stay in his room, before closing the doors. His bracelet flashes, turning into a beautiful golden-white bow in his hand. "HEY!" Paddy shouts into the Cabin as he spins Skywing in his right hand. "Hey archers, come with me! Medics, prepare bandages in case some reckless ones get injured!"

In an instant the Apollo cabin burst into motion. Med kits, bandages and sanitizing alcohol, and lyres and guitars are prepared by the healing blessed children of Apollo while those who are more attuned with the bow quickly slung their arrows over their shoulders and followed Paddy out of the doors and out towards the hill. It doesn't take for Paddy's supernatural sniper sight to see the hulking forms of the hellhounds. Seething darkness and flame in the form of car sized monstrous dogs, they're large, numerous, and strong. Their size is their strength, but it is also their weakness.

Paddy pulls Skywing's string, and the strong midday light quickly solidifies into a blinding white-gold arrow. Light sparkles around him as about five more motes of light gather around him as he aims at the hounds. "HEADS UP!"

There's the sound of strings being let loose, and arrows come flying through the air. Most hit their mark, many of the shots aimed for maiming and disabling the enemy so that the front line could have an easier time. For Paddy's light arrows, there's a brief buzz in the air as the arrows travel like laser beams. He's aimed for the legs and six light arrows pierced through a couple hellhounds' feet, causing them to crash in their charge. As swiftly as the first volley came another wave of light arrows fire at the dogs. A concentrated barrage on one of the downed hounds was like popping a swollen pimple, its remains disintegrating into shadow and dust.

Paddy turns to his half-siblings and shouts. "Keep moving! Archers who aren't mobile or under cover are dead! Find better shooting vantage!" He continues to pull at his bowstring, firing light arrows to incapacitate the hounds that keep the melee locked and the occassional Celestial bronze to quickly finish what seems to be a more dangerous fight.

[Aidannadia]

Ward Greer

As Ward saw his pilum sink into the earth, his heart sank, but immediately a flame rushed into his chest once more.

"Good try, Ward, you'll hit next time. Now, into the fray."

With but a brief pass by him, Valeria's presence spurred him forward. As the unclaimed camper began to move though, his idol quickly outpaced him as several Greeks beat him to the action. Atfirst, he moved to pull his spear from the ground, tugging a little too slowly to roll out of the way of a hound's fangs. He ducked, pulling the wooden end of his spear down with him, and as the hound's maw gnashed and gnawed on the still attached shield, a glimmer of imagination sparkled in his eye as he cut the binding holding them together and loosed the handle, sounding with a loud crack like a firework, the shield pushed the hound back, only for someone to deftly dodge, jump and pierce the dog in its confusion. Ward silently said a prayer for his shield, and turned his attention to the fray, noticing that the other campers had begun to take their own losses with blood staining the grass.

The boy glanced over his shoulder at the hill, then back at the group. We can back up... WIthout a moment more of hesitation, gladius brandished protectively, he began to pull Lander away from the fighting and towards the safety imparted by their enchanted fleece. While Ward was hardly the strongest member of camp, he found little resistance in the faun outside of the confirmation of their rank musk assaulting his nostrils.

[Nations United for Conquest]

The Shephard's Son

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Alec Thomson - Legacy of Pales | Optio of the 5th Cohort | North Woods - Camp Half Blood

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[Interlude I]

On the morning the camp officially began, the sun was kind and the winds cool. A breeze traveled south from the sea through the camp, and near the edges of North Woods, it caught the in the trees and rustled their leaves. There it caught the musk of the earth and carried it on with it southerly. Summer had not yet arrived in full force, and there were still days of cool and calm, rare as they were.

It was not yet lunch when Alec left the confines of his office, high in the stone walls of the Roman garrison. His gladius, as always, hung from his hip, but he bore no armor nor shield. Instead, he carried a simple wicker picnic basket in his right hand, and the other sat in his pocket. The regal purple shirts of the Roman camps clung to his torse and stretched with his movements ever so slightly. Walking down through the camp, his pace had been quick.

And when he eventually arrived at the edge of the North Woods, it changed little. Here where the forest met with the open spaces of the camp, was a high wall of trees. Migrhty and aged oaks as old as the camp stood alongside maple and hemlock trees. Their branches were in full bloom with leaves lively and green and a veritable sea of moss, bramble, and knee-high grasses. The loaded branches above the ground cast cool and dark shadows across the forest floor, and small saplings and bushes reached with spindly branches to touch one another.

For most, it could be an imposing sight with a thick wall of vegetation and a task to navigate. In there lay deep, hidden hollows where there was little light, even on a clear day such as it was. To get lost required little effort. But Alec had walked these woods–near every little cove, ditch, hollow, and rise in those six odd months he had spent in camp. Every little path of game and camper was known well to him, and the new bloom and foliage did not trip his step.

Rather than walk straight into the forest's depths, he trailed the edge, which ran north. The ground was level, and the grass was cut. Alec’s eyes stayed on the trees, observing them as he walked. Soon he came upon a short wide tree laden with tiny flowers of white and green, and there he stopped. It was a Korean Dogwood, ancient and blooming. When the summer ended, Alec would return for the berries–if he still lived. Ila had expressed interest in the berries. They carried a medicinal trait, the girl had said. He only cared for the taste.

Behind the old dogwood, for those of keen eyes, as Alec was, sat just the faintest hints of a trail. Here the grass was not quite as tall as elsewhere. The branches of the bush and sapling did not quite reach one another. It rolled like a gentle stream downhill into a little hollow beyond a moss-covered boulder. It took a sharp turn to the south and was lost behind shadows and a thick screen of trees.

Humming along with an unfinished tune, Alec bushed aside the lower hanging branches of the forest away as he ducked into the path. The forest was dark, and a certain amount of dank left over from spring still lingered. Long shadows were cast over the ground, and some bramble had grown across the path in spaces here and there. Alec’s eyes could not see the way, but his feet remembered well. He walked down the slight decline towards the mossy boulder. From there, we swung left and continued down the path. There were twists and turns and little loops. A fallen tree found him scampering over it, careful not to damage the wicker basket. At no point was the trail lost to him. And in due time, he came upon his coveted destination.

At the end of the trail ran up to a small ring of willow trees. Their drooping branches formed a curtain that blocked off everything beyond. Pushing them aside took little effort. As Alec passed through the curtain, to him was revealed the visage of a small cove he knew well. The bay split off from the rest of the river that sundered the camp’s woods and was tucked behind the two eldest and tallest of the willows and so was difficult to spot from the river save through a small gap barely large enough for a person to pass between. It was how Alec had found the cove months ago. There was a small beach where no grass grew a few feet from the willows and which was barely wide enough to hold three men and just long enough to let you sit comfortably.

Alec was not the only one in the cove. Down by the water sat a man who was tall and broad enough that he could fit in well with the trees around him. Jack MacKenzie was how Alec called him. He wore the same faded jeans as always, and his white dress shirt strained against his robust build with every breath the man took. Locks of wheat-colored hair, far less wild than they had been months ago, were peaking out under a sun-bleached hemp-wired hat. The willows looked to be reaching out towards Jack, and the ground where he sat seemed much richer for his presence. Around him, the air was far cooler and much more comfortable, despite the sun that streamed in from the space above the willows. Jack noticed Alec the moment he stepped into the clearing. He turned to the boy, pale green eyes crinkling and something akin to a smile visible through his bushy beard and mustache.

“Alec.” Jake greeted warmly.

“Jack.” Said Alec.

“It’sh lunch now already?”

“Close enough now to come down to fish,” Alec said. He sat down beside Jack on the cool soil.

There were two sticks shaped like ‘Y’s planted in the ground close to the bay's edge, but not enough so the tide would run up to them. A simple wooden pole was in the crook of each stick’s ‘V.’ Their lines had already been cast with little twigs for bobbers dancing in the river. It was a clean river, well cared for by naiad and campers alike, and out to the edge of Willow’s curtain, it was so clear that the rocks on the riverbed were visible. They shined like gems through the crystalline blue water. Little fish darted here and there, but nothing larger than sunny so much as glanced at their lines. Neither minded it all that much.

“It’s a nice day for fishing,” Alec said.

“You alwaysh shay that.”

“It’s 'cause it’s always a nice day for fishing.”

“Why not go fishin’ every day then?”

“Just because it’s a nice day for fishing doesn’t always mean it’s a good day, unfortunately.” Replied Alec.

Jack gave a simple grunt for a reply. The two settled back into their comfortable silence. There was a chirping of birds in the distance, and down the ways on the river was a small waterful whose gurgling could still be heard in the cover. No animals approached them. Occasionally, one of the bobbers would sink or dance, and they would see a little fish nibble at the lures—nothing bit. Alec had continued to hum that old tune he did not know all of, and Jack had picked it up somewhere along the way. The sound twisted with the birds and wind and everything else.

Coming slowly was noon, but already the wicker basket needed to be moved closer to the shade of the woods. The clearing was still temperate. It was around there a naiad appeared, or rather the naiad. Her name was Eleni, as it had been told to Alec by Jamie. Eleni was fair-skinned with rich curly hair the color of tree bark. It was done up in thick braids and crowned her head. A dress the same blue as the river she waded in hung loosely from her shoulders and fell into the river. When her eyes Alec’s, she paused and offered him a broad smile and a wave. Her actions made Alec raise an eyebrow, but he saw little reason to spite the guardian of the river he so enjoyed and gave her a quick wave. In response, the naiad blushed something fierce before turning away slightly and disappearing into a mist, becoming one with the river once.

Jack chuckled, hoarse and curt at the scene. Alec shook his head with a scowl. He made to say something when a sudden tightness overcame his chest. It went as fast as it had come, but a lingering clamminess settled over his skin. Even the heat of early summer and the presence of Jack couldn’t stem the coldness on his skin or the heat in his blood. It wasn’t overwhelming as it had once been on a spring morning so long ago, but it was enough that he could still feel it halfway across camp as he was. Jack might’ve said something, but Alec couldn’t hear him. He couldn’t hear much of anything. His gaze had swung to the south, out past the curtain of Willows, the thick foliage of the underbrush, and the tall lines of trees in their silent watch. Hazel eyes bore down on the woods as if seeking to burn through them. He was tense as a spring.

Jack’s voice, calm but not lacking in its sincerity, called his attention. “Shomethin’ happening Alec?”

“Feels that way. Near the Hill? Can’t say.” Alec’s hand had found its way to the hilt of his gladius, thumbing it in time with the beat of his heart.

“Ish a long waysh from ‘ere to the Hill. Lotsh of treesh and rocksh and bushesh and shuch.” Jack, Scottish stock he was, still held quite an accent.

“I can run fast. I know these woods well; I know the way!” With every word spoken, Alec’s voice was climbing in intensity. He’d not yet begun to yell, but it was coming on the horizon.

“Aye, that you can, that you can. But would there be anythin’ you could do? Might all well be over and done wit by then. How bad ish it really? Bad ash that lil’ lash Ila?”

“No, not quite as bad as her. I don’t think-don’t hope anything could be that bad.” Alec admitted. No longer were his words loud, but they’d not lost any heat. “But I could still do something! If something were to happen…If I could’ve made a difference…” He rubbed at his left shoulder without thought.

“You can’t be everywhere at once, lad; if you put your blade to every scrap, it’sh bound to dull. A dull blade ish no ushe to anyone; you know that well. Don’t be one. ‘Shides, there’re are shtrong onesh there, right?”

“Yeah, you’re right.” There was a smile not usually pleasant on the boy’s face as he spoke. Jack beamed, but with Alec still turned, he could not see his friend’s smile nor the knowing crinkling of green eyes. “She’s strong. Far stronger than I’ll ever be. But she-no one should have to fight alone.”

“Well, true that ish. But no one up there ish alone are they? You can’t alwaysh be the one there to pick up the shlack.” Jack chided. There was no actual weight to it.

“I know, I know. I just don’t like it. I’m allowed not to like it, aren’t I?”

“Oh, that sho?”

Around then, the feeling faded completely from Alec’s system, and the remarkable clarity generally reserved for those who have sobered up after a bender fell on him full force. The burning in his blood was gone, but up around his ears, half covered by chestnut hair, there was a burning colo,r to his ears. Without fanfare, he unceremoniously collapsed backward onto the dirt. Jack laughed deep from his gut, and Alec found his arms across his face. He grunted into them. His words began to catch up with him, and he groaned lightly. Jack still hadn’t stopped his light coyote-like laugh.

“Have we any bites?” Alec asked suddenly.

“Not one. Thinking they got to it while we weren’t looking.”

“It was a nice day for fishing.”

“Aye, it wash.”

“Not a good day for fishing.”

“Not for us, no. But a good day for the Fish.” The last part was mumbled, and Alec, lying with his head covered to hide the burning ears and smile on his face, could not hear well.

Without any further words, the two got up. Alec went to the cove's edge and drew up the wicker basket from where he had stored it. They had eaten lightly between casts, and the box still had its weight. Jack went to the poles. Their reels creaked a bit as they were spun, but the cover was clear, and there were few snags to be found, so the hooks and lures came up with good speed. He put the poles on one shoulder and cradled their stands with his other hand. Alec stood waiting at the ring of willows.

They both walked the same path back from the cove. Alec, with the least physical burden, led the pair. He knew the route better, even with his head full of thought and worry. Occasionally, he would glance to the side, always southerly, as if hoping to catch sight of something. Jack kept his chuckles to himself. At the least, he would have something to assuage the worries of Wayman and Cassia in his next report.

[Theyra]

Zane Blacklight
Camp Halfblood

Zane was breathing heavily after finishing his training in the Arena and was walking away. He always trains hard every day at the Arena or at the woods, since becoming a full-time camper. It has only been a few months since becoming one, and he is still getting used to not living in the outside world. Only spending time at camp during the summer does that to a person, and he feels like he is getting stronger, but he is not going to stop. He needs to be stronger still, and Zane learned the hard way he should not overextend himself.

So as he was walking away from the arena did, he hear what sounded like the sounds of battle, and he could see people moving to the hill. Zane was concerned, and as he moved closer, he could see what was happening. Hellhounds were attacking, and as soon as he saw the hellhounds. Zane tightly gripped his sword and ran to the hill. It did not matter that he was tired from training, he is going to help either way, and he could rest later.

By the time he reached the hill, he saw more clearly what was happening. A group of campers was protecting a downed faun and a girl with hellhounds coming from the woods towards them. But he also saw behind the boundary, and he did not know if she was okay. So Zane went over to Aurelia to see if she was okay. "Are you hurt?" Sounding concerned.

[White Bluff]

Co-Op post from Theyra and White Bluff

Zane Blacklight & Aurelia Lancaster
Half-Blood
June 15th, 2037

The golden haired girl stood still, frozen by the large pine, her body unwilling to move past it and out of the boundary that insured her protection. Her eyes swirling a dark brown mess of fear and stress, as she wanted to help but knew she'd just get in the way, but the fear of losing her friends, her new family made her afraid.

That's when, from behind her, she heard movement and a familiar voice, Zane. "Are you hurt?" He asked her, sounding concerned.

It caused her to whip around to face him, her arms, hands, knees, and shins still dirty from working in the strawberry field. She shook her head no, before responding in a quick nervous stream of words, "No, I just know that I won't be much help in this, I was with Allie in the fields and we both ran over now she's out there."

“Okay that is good, I was not sure if you hurt or not,” Zane sounded relieved. “Just stay back if you are unsure of fighting in that case, we can handle this.” He sounded confident if a bit tired. “I will make sure that Allie stays okay and how about keeping an eye out if anything else comes our way and yell it out? Can you do that?”

Aurelia shook her head yes as he asked her to be look out, "I-I think I can do that." She hesitated for a sec and quickly hugged him, barely speaking above a whisper, "Keep yourself safe too… please," she let go as soon as she had started it, "I'll make sure nothin' surprises y’all."

Zane was surprised by the hug and did not know how to feel. His mind was on the fight but, it felt weird. Not a bad weird but a good weird or he did not know how to explain it. Then he barely heard what Aurelia said to him. “Ah… yeah Aurelia… I will.” Zane still feeling this good weirdness, he backed off and shook his head a bit to feel normal again. “Okay keep a eye out and here I go.” Zane left Aurelia and went to aid the other campers and fight off the hellhounds.

Auri watched the son of Hecate run into the fray of battle, her heart pounding and feeling tight all at the same time. She gulps as she tries to calm her nerves, and keep a lookout for anything more to come.

[Zei-Aeiytenia]

Audrey Griffin
June 15th, 2037
Camp Half-Blood

Take Their Breath Away


Sleep was a rare companion of Audrey's, not one she was often fond of, and in this manner she was blessed to need little of it. Per her role in the 5th Cohort, her sleep was almost never in any one solid block. She rested in short bursts, twenty to thirty minutes most commonly, four to five times a day - occasionally six - and she will continue to be a barely containable wild fireball of energy and willfulness. Some even humor themselves, the thought of what horror could be unleashed if she slept more. Certainly, the idea that more could result in a supercharged Audrey was a broadly unwelcome prospect across the Legion, who could scarcely tolerate her presence already, narrowly brought around to the thought by a powerful combination of factors. Firstly, the pragmatic senses and generally calmer head of the Centurion, Alec, who would note had found his own way into handling her, and secondly, by reminding belligerent parties of the incredible logistical efficiency she provided. A difficult argument to counter, given the pride of the prestigious cohorts would remind them that when it came to long marching drills, testing endurance and logistical capacity, everyone was in competition for second place since Audrey had become part of the 5th.

Of course, Alec then went and socked another Centurion out cold, that of the 3rd Cohort. He had deserved the thwacking without question, but the 'punishment' if you dare call it such, was to send him off to this place. Camp Half-Blood, where Audrey now found herself, picked to come along as Summer drew in. A decision which put into further question the logic and efficacy of the Roman Bureaucracy, this was no punishment, this was a vacation. Here she was, sat up high in the branches of a tree at the edge of the Northern Woods, a delightful view of the beach below.

This view she was suddenly returned to, the particularly keen senses she wielded brought news of some chaos or other happening on the other side of Camp. As she climbed to the tip of the tree, folding both hands into a circle. Though looking rather silly, this did focus the eyes - even for a mortal - and would actually improve their vision at what remained in the field. So too would it here, with far greater implications, spotting rag tag groups of large creatures - bear sized? - likely hellhounds if so, tearing across the road and through the field before falling out of sight as they closed onto the hill. Birds from earlier flocked to the highest branches, seeing their strangely large but flight capable friend once awake again, chirping questions about the danger the wildlife too had sensed.

"Well, yes, i will be going for a while. Y'know how often i get stuck in the backline, because i'm 'too valuable' for the front? Total crap, more like they adjust tactics and plan around anything but combat tactics from two millenia ago. Besides, the way the trouble's coming in, i see an excellent spot to lay a trap and cut off the reinforcements. Lot more useful than sitting around waiting for injured, when i can prevent it happening now." She went on, using her sword for means not intended, cutting off wood from the tree in several places. Once collected, she cut open her left hand, dripping her blood onto them to be soaked into the wood, avian comrades voicing their concern with some fair degree of concern.

"Yes, i do mean flying over the lines, landing well ahead, drawing attention from a bunch of them alone into a trap i'm making right now. The blood will strengthen the wood so it can take hits and make it fire resistant so i don't burn my own kill box to ashes." More chirping from the birds, this time frantic pleas for Audrey to consider the incredible danger of this course of action.

"OF COURSE IT'S DANGEROUS. So is nature, and life - and oh hey wait ain't that - that's my thing isn't it, those two? Ahaha, see? Dangerous by inherent design, it'll be fine. Not like there's anyone else who can do this, most of them are probably only managing to keep their bladders closed because they're sticking by Val, and even if they weren't they don't have the means anyway. But look at me," She said, standing up, 6 wooden squares attached to her armor now, and two more being formed into hardwood boots which shaped around her feet, making her a couple inches taller already.

"See, i have the means, i can race to position overhead out of danger, draw attention with distraction shots from low altitude while setting these in place, then fall back and draw them in. The means. Furthermore, i actually have the heart to do it without that oversized obnoxious megaphone of a girl being anywhere nearby." The birds continued their protest as a group, fluttering around her head as a last means of trying to convince the girl to settle down.

"Look, look, i'll be back later okay? It'll be fine, and right now you're just making me late for a chewing out i'm going to have later. If you're still so upset when i get back you can join in on the Legion tradition of angrily shouting every time Audrey does something useful because it's not in some useless inflexible rules book." She sighs, smiling at the avians, many of whom return what she understands are mildly angry glares.

"Oh cmon, you're not supposed to actually take up on the offer! This is where i come to get away from that! Ughhh, whatever, nothing i'm not used to i guess." With that, Audrey takes her leave, jumping as high from the branch as she is able, the vitality reinforced wooden boots extending, narrowing at their tips, forming something akin to makeshift rocket nozzles. At the apex of her leap she drew a deep inhale, fire spilling out from the boots with the exhale, the concentrated thrust easily keeping her up accompanied by a loud noise reminiscent of a vacuum. Holes she had cut along it, about half way down, performing their job as air intakes for optimal efficiency. This was what she suffered through the horror of reading heavy, non fiction books in english with dyslexia for, creative ways to pull one over on anyone and everyone, nature is never without her tricks, and she is always struggling, truly, to learn more.

With her defiance of the will of gravity firmly cemented, bursts from her hands joined in to levy more thrust forwards, picking up speed and racing over the camp. Below she saw Alec making his way out the woods with two others, campers racing from every direction towards the chaos, and soon the frontlines themselves, watching as they went from disparate groups to a formed battle line. She would race over them too, far ahead. Identifying a currently cleared spot she rapidly descended, slowing down to make a fairly tight circle of placing down the pieces of wood, who immediately embedded themselves into the earth and began to grow out horizontally in a circular shape to meet each other, but keeping the unified thick circular structure barely sticking from the ground so that it be easily stepped over.

With the trap set, she needed to collect victims, keeping altitude just out of jumping reach and using fairly harmless but attention grabbing attacks. A fireblast here, there, over yonder, they weren't going to hurt hellhounds really but they didn't need to. Throw in a few whipping vines and she'll have gathered herself a small audience to her new acoustic theater! Now for the timing, they may be the size of the bears but they're damned fast, requiring a race at full throttle to make it back well ahead, hovered just off the ground, waiting... waiting... waiting... NOW! Full powering up into the sky, bringing the wide, but hollow tree and its thick walls up with her. The timing was good.

Not perfect. A straggler started clawing at the falls as he fell down them, yet managed to find just a moments purchase to leap, latching his jaw onto the left rocket. Things to be thankful for: this reinforced wood was fire resistant, and strong enough to count itself as a piece of armor. Having two layers of heavy armor on her lower shin and ankles was a saving grace at the moment. What wasn't was the adrenaline tearing through her, and taking with it the calmer, focused mental faculties that had made this plan and replacing them with wild and violent impulse. Quickly, and with some mild worry, the right hand drew her sword and began hammer-thrusting down into the creatures eye and head, rendering it a decaying mass of dusty particles.

Now freed, her ascent continued through a still large but rapidly shrinking hole at the top, landing without grace on the top. Concern had left her thoughts, a wild, untamed smirk across her face, ignoring the pounding sensation of bruises emerging on her left ankle and scurrying to the edge of a hole how barely big enough for her two hands to cover. With that same primal grin, a deep breath in, exhale out, jets of fire hammered down. The walls and roof of this wood cylinder thickened as it began to shrink, much slower than it had grown. Fire itself would not scorch the monsters to death, but as the lacquer prison shrunk, so too did its air capacity, and as her flames raged, so too was it consumed.

Audrey was quite literally, taking their breath away. The hole continued to shrink, eventually closing. Impending doom, behind to the right, she sensed it, as the tower lowered it became possible for what few hounds had yet arrived to take their chance. Spinning around, spatha drawn and in hand, she found her blade too late... someone else had already struck, a small flash of light delivering arrow through the flank of the beast. More would come, picking off the minimal stragglers as Audrey paced around the tower, mentally in a state of primal instinct, which for the moment seemed to want to stand and fight, slashing and bashing at anything that came near as arrows raced around.

At some point, however, even primal instinct accepted that its desired position of superiority would not be best obtained by staying, pressing two more attackers back before rocketing into the sky, leaving a gift of ensnaring thorny vines to make them easy targets for the archers. Now out of danger, hovered in the sky, she began to slowly calm, higher sensibility clawing back in, to take view of the situation once more.

In particular from whom those arrows came...

[Faal Lot Himdah]

Valeria "Val" Lorino
Camp Half-Blood
June 15th, 2037

---

Battle. Without discipline it would become a chaotic mess. Fortunately, in Val's experience, the Greeks were quite adept at dealing with a chaotic mess of a battle. So, while more and more people joined the fray, and the chaos of the battle grew, she did not worry. In fact, with more people entering the fray, Val could use it as an opportunity to evacuate the injured faun.

As Bridget announced her presence, Val gave her a nod. Turning to look behind her, she smiled. Looks like Ward had the same idea. she thought as she saw Ward starting to pull the downed faun away. It was at that moment that one of the hellhounds got around their formation, and began heading for Ward. Reacting, Val moved to intercept, bashing her shield into the hound. It was enough to to stop the hellhound's advance, and pull its attention.

"Santino! Wilson!" Val shouted, "Protect Ward. Help him get the faun to safety."

As the other two Romans moved to aid Ward, Val lunged at the stunned hellhound. The hellhound had at this point recovered, and snarled at the lunging Val. As she swung for it, the hellhound dodged out of the way and followed up by attempted to sink its teeth into Val's side. Narrowly dodging it, Val took a step to the side, and slashed the side of the beast as she dodged. It was not deep, but it was obviously felt by the hellhound, which quickly turned and lunged at Val.

Jumping into the air, it would come down a top Val. She did not get out of the way fast enough, instead raising her shield. Knocked to the ground, Val pushed her shield up and against the neck of the hellhound, keeping its snapping jaws just out of reach. As the hellhound continued to snarl and snap at Val, her gladius made contact with its neck. Plunging the sword into the beasts neck, she watched as it turned to dust on top of her.

Quickly standing back up, she surveyed the melee before rejoining the main group in the melee.

[Kandex]

Hypatia Megalos
Camp Halfblood
June 15th, 2037

---

Of course, Hypatia loved being at the arena. Admittedly, she preferred fighting in the arena than watching someone else, but even that could be interesting and enjoyable. Unfortunately that wasn't quite the case, at the moment, despite what the younger kids around might have thought, nothing particularly impressive or interesting was going on.

Dante was doing his typical routine of stabbing at straw dummies with a wooden sword. The smaller kids, new to the camp, really, were just happy to see someone who at least looked like they knew what they were doing swinging around a sword. It was probably the first time they’d seen anyone do that. Of course, that wasn’t the case for Hypatia, not only had she seen wooden swords swung before, she’d seen real swords swung before. For that matter, she had seen real swords swung at ‘her’ before. That, to her, was the real interesting part of any martial display, when it occurred within the context of friction between people.

She had half a mind to step forth herself and present such a challenge, until a celtic accent made its presence known from amongst the crowd. It was presenting herself as a sparring partner for the diminutive son of pluto. It wasn’t long before she introduced herself as a roman, which of course did not exactly do favours for her in Hypatia’s estimation and unfortunately nothing that followed from her mouth did anything to dissuade an instinctive dislike the girl felt.

Dante for his part, made an admirable effort at responding with her provocations with his own quips and made the notable decision of keeping to using a wooden sword in the face of an actual weapon, alongside giving the girl the opportunity to strike first. Just like that they were off and it wasn't long before the wooden sword clashed against Bridget's shield. It wouldn’t survive the bout

Even this wasn’t exactly exciting for Hypatia either. Sparring with swords or sharp weapons in general was never something she found particularly enjoyable, though she could do it. For obvious reasons, striking one’s opponent with them was not permissible. Blunt force attacks though, like the shield bash that the Roman had just carried out, could more easily make use of, however. But nothing built the opportunities presented by grappling, the wrestling that the very tall girl was most fond of, was something that could be used even closer to their full extent. A good grappling sparring bout was almost as enjoyable as a proper fight.

Then came Dante’s hammer fist and Bridget's kick. Now things were a little more mature, the little kids' predictably turned towards a quiet concern. Hypatia wasn’t exactly impressed, though, just no longer quite as bored. However, any opportunity that this little engagement had to go from remotely tolerable, to serviceably entertaining, would be paled by howls in the distance and the sounds of actual struggle. That was when Hypatia decided she’d turn to leave in the direction of something that promised to be more engaging than this.

[The Anarcho-Syndicalist Commune]

Alexander Pheidon

Arrows continued to whistle through the air as he picked off more hellhounds as they burst through the woods. As Alex felt his quiver lightening, he grimaced. He had never seen a pack of hounds like this before. He knew that Lander had a streak of bad luck a mile long, but what kind of hornet's nest had he managed to kick up extracting this girl? He shrugged it off. Questions for later. His problems began to grow lesser as several of his peers, drawn in by the noises of ongoing battle, joined in the fray. The Apollo campers made his own job significantly easier, while the Romans under Val... that's what Alec had said her name was... began an extraction effort to get the injured form of Lander off the battlefield.

And there, in the middle of it all, were the camps cream of the crop. Well, excluding Dante. But then again, when had Dante ever been on the frontlines of a battle he didn't start. Regardless, Dan and Jamie, side by side, fought like Demons against the pack out of hell. If he didn't know better, the pair would have seemed like siblings fighting alongside each other. Between and around them, the new girl managed to make herself stick out even between two of the camps most talented fighters. She wasn't anywhere near perfect, but there were flashes of brilliance in her fighting that made Alex smirk a little. The new girl was a natural with the spear, that's for certain. She just needed training.

It was a comfort that resulted in Alex's own blunder. He had let himself get soft over winter again. So immersed in watching the fighting and plotting strategy, he had failed to notice a particularly large hellhound bursting from the woods. By the time he noticed, it had already covered half the distance to the new girl. Reaching back for an arrow, he realized too late that his quiver was empty. Drawing a sword from his belt, he tried to rush down the hill, but he wasn't fast enough. The Hellhound reached out and clawed the new girl, sending her off her feet and mangling her left arm badly.

Before Alex could get down the hill, Dan stepped over the girl and brought his sword to bare. Storm clouds gathered over the battle field as the Son of Zeus's eyes crackled with power and electricity. Rain began to spatter the battlefield as he yelled out, and a bolt of lightening fell from the small storm, instantly striking and incinerating the hellhound in question. Alex reached the pair as Dan fell to a knee, clearly exhausted from the effort to conjure a full storm on a dry and sunny day. He spat and said "Get her out of here Alex. We'll hold the line."

"Dan, you can't even stand right now."

"I'm fine. Plus this rain is just gonna energize Jamie to pick up my slack."

Alex nodded. He had a point. Grabbing the younger girl under the shoulder, he began to drag her up the hill, despite some protests from her. "Let go of me. I can help."

"Kid, you're lucky to have an arm right now. Don't make this harder than it has to be."

An even louder howl interrupted their conversation. While the Hellhounds had sounded like a particularly louds group of wolves, this one sounded more like an air raid siren in terms of volume. Trees on the edge of the woodlands shattered as a massive two headed doberman the size of a bus ripped through them. Alex began to pick up his pace at the sight of it, knowing that this must have been leading the hunt for the girl. The pack seemed to be coming from every angle in front of the house now. Arrows from the Apollo cabin continued to rain down, and Alex heard the familiar voice of his mentor yelling "Alexander! Get the girl to the house now." The heavy thunk of the old teacher's bow sent an arrow into the chest of the two headed beast, which did little to even slow it down.

Dan, ever the hero apparently, pushed himself off his knee just in time to put himself in front of the rapidly closing beast. He swung at the neck of one of the heads, only for his sword to bounce off of it with a metallic sounding thwang. The massive doberman in turn rammed into him, knocking him forward up the hill. It pounced onto the young thunderer, plating a paw heavily on to his chest. Alex could hear the ribs crack. Before he could react, he felt the girl he was dragging suddenly wrench herself from his grip with more force than he had thought her injured frame capable of delivering. She bounced to her feet, spear locked into her non injured hand, and rushed forward.

The dog seemed as surprised as Alex at this development, it's reactions slow. The girl, her dark brown hair now slick with rain and blowing in the wind, gave out a yell that reminded Alex far too much of the Amazons he had once encountered, and leapt into the air. With speed and precision, she brought her arm back, and with a mighty blow stuck the head of the spear into the crook of the creature's neck, in between it's twin heads. With a flash of fire and the scent of brimstone, the beast disintegrated into the gathering wind.

The girl landed hard and groaned as she rolled a bit down the muddy hill. A spiked collar, a deep cut slashed into it by Dan's sword, landed with a thud next to her. With the leader of the pack apparently killed, many of the hell hounds now began to flee, whimpering back into the woods. The small storm began to rapidly part with Dan no longer holding it together. Alex heard the sound of galloping hooves behind him, and watched as Chiron rushed forward, grabbing the young girl and the collar off the ground, before saying "Alexander, please help Mr. Carun up to the big house now!"

Alex did as he was told, hoisting Dan up. Dan coughed as he put an arm over Alex's shoulders, saying "Not every day you see something like that, is it?" Alex shook his head no in response.

Reaching the porch of the Big House, Alex laid Dan on a lounge chair next to another two where the young girl and Lander currently lay. The girl seemed to blush a bit at the presence of the two boys, but it could have easily just been some of her blood on her face. Chiron emerged from the house, nectar and ambrosia on hand, and began to tend to the girls wounds, smiling to her as he did so. The old centaur said in his deep voice "Kore Russo. It has been too long since I first expected to see you here. You must be remarkable at hiding yourself."

[Aidannadia]

Ward Greer

"Santino! Wilson! Protect Ward. Help him get the faun to safety."

Ward felt the two legionnaires on either side of him, covering his retreat with the faun, breathing a sigh of relief as Val slain the beast that had engaged her. Chaos ensued on the battlefield as he overlooked it from the edge of camp, even pausing as the events unfolded. Counselor Carun drew his attention shortly after with a loud crack of lightning in the middle of the fray, which was responded to with a loud howl and the approach of a unique beast. Now out of the immediate aura of the Centurion, his pace up the kill quickened, making it to the crest as the newcomer slayed the two-headed hound that was threatening the Son of Jupiter.

"Santino, h-help me get the f-f-faun onto my shoulde-" As the Romans began to orient themselves once more, Ward heard a new voice, towering behind him.

"Alexander, please help Mr. Carun up to the big house now!"

Assuming this was standard procedure, Ward began heading to the only house he'd have called big in respect to the others, and the pair of Romans moved back to the battlefield to meet up with Val. As he approached the house, Lander tapped him on the shoulder.

'Hey kid, let me down." Ward loosened his grip, and the faun, grunting and carefully placed one of his hooves to the ground, only to find the other not able to take him weight. "Okay, get righ-" Ward moved to his side before he finished his sentence, and Lander leaned a hand on the boy's shoulder as the pair limped the rest of the way to the infirmary. A few campers were already there, expecting to receive injured from the fight, and Ward handed Lander off to their care. With his job completely, he turned to make the long walk back to retrieve his shield, silently dreading facing the others again. How could he have forgotten to remove his shield, and to have lost it so early in the fight. The most he had done was put one off balance so the Neptunian could finish it off. Even Val- er, Centurion Lorino hadn't believed in him, having Wilson and Santino look after him. Shame filled his form, but his thoughts were interrupted by the sight of Chiron, no doubt the voice that had towered behind him exiting the house with a balm in his hands. Ward waited politely before exiting not long after him, trying his best to go unnoticed, though as he began to leave, he did hear Chiron address the new girl.

"Kore Russo. It has been too long since I first expected to see you here. You must be remarkable at hiding yourself."