~ ~ ~
==>
Watching as the feminine man spoke and spat at the elf once more, Astana held up a finger that seemed to stop the saliva bullet in midair. The spittle, as if ignoring laws of gravity, floated briefly before dissipating into the ground.
"Please," Astana began quietly,
"there is no need for such vulgarity right now. Whether it's his fault or not doesn't matter, there are enough enemies after us. Let's not make any more."
She paused as the young man continued to talk, claiming he wasn't the best of fighters, and asking for some promise of a... kiss? Cogs began to whirr in Astana's head to try and process the meaning of this, but she just ended up getting confused. Either way, she was eager for the assistance. Doing this alone was something she knew was out of the realm of possibility.
"Ah... a kiss...? I don't... well, if it's your last request, perhaps... b-but... aren't you a bit young?" Astana shook her head.
"Still, thank you for fighting alongside me. I take it what you're doing to that axe hints at your own powers?" Astana asked, cocking her head slightly after giving a brief bpw. The rumbling above was intensifying; shouts were increasing in volume as the Orion seemed to be catching on to their position.
The large fire wielder's snarky comment towards her left Astana looking somewhat upset. She could understand if he didn't agree with her views, but did he really hate her? She hadn't meant to make an enemy. The gentle touch of the young girl taking her arm in her hand helped Astana calm down a little, but her words were very much serious. Watching as she was preparing something that was likely going to be extremely useful, Astana give the girl a parting smile and a brief bow of her head.
"Thank you for your aid and concern. I can promise you that I'll be careful; please do the same." she quietly replied, before the young one departed in the portal.
'The man who left early... it doesn't sound like the Orion have found him. Did he manage to escape, or is he...' Astana thought idly as she began to mentally prepare for what would be the second true fight of her life.
==>
Hanselt, for his part, seemed a bit indignant. "Y-young? I'll have you know... experience trumps years everytime!" He pouted, and his axe seemed to react alongside him, pockets of liquid-silver boiling in flux, "They used to call me the Lothario of House Lemke, not that you should hold that against me or anything. Simply making a point."
"In regards to what I'm doing with the axe; meet my trusty old friend, Bellerophon."
With that, Hanselt simply let the hatchet fall from his grasp. The once solid mass seemed to render itself into metallic glue, quicksilver appendages sprouting from the blob with neither rhyme nor reason. They protracted and retracted intermittently, until at last four - two front legs, two hind legs - caught the metallic entity's descent. A head sprouted, a rough approximation of a canine's, raised upwards towards the ceiling in a soundless howl.
==>
Moura had been sitting at the bottom of the stairwell for some time now. He could faintly hear raised voices and harsh conjectures being thrown about. The stable roar of the denizens upstairs made it hard to even hear from in front of the door. There was no way anyone was hearing even their shouts.
Time felt incredibly slow as he sat waiting. He'd never felt so curious in all his life. The longer he waited, the more certain he was that he made a mistake. No one else was coming out. There were others that disagreed, so why weren't they leaving. Arguing was mostly pointless. There was only one argument he could ever remember being in that he changed the opponents mind. It was a very proud moment for him, but he doubted that anything like that was going to happen here.
It was easy to realize that he had made a terrible decision leaving that room, not because of anything within his power, but because of the terrible luck that the Orions decided to strike the Golden Scribe. The commotion upstairs turned from that of jovial to panic. The new sound of clanging metal and screams Perhaps it wasn't chance though. It was extremely convenient that they struck the day that a group of Ascerbi were all gathered. The coincidence of the situation didn't matter though. He needed to figure something out. There was no way he was going to be able to do anything in this stairwell. He turned and pulled at the door. It was locked. Not very surprising, but he needed to get back in the room. They had to have some sort of escape plan.
"Open up!" He shouted as he pounded on the door. His sounds were still mostly dwarfed by the raging commotion upstairs. Even if they didn't open up, he should help them somehow. He wasn't for bringing more souls to this realm, but he was all for fighting the Orion. He began to rapidly heat the stairwell. It wouldn't do much, but it would create an unbearable heat for the thickly covered men. He continuned to pound on the door, hoping someone might still be able to open the door.
==>
The young man's first sentence didn't seem to be fully understood by Astana. Out of a misunderstanding only someone like her could achieve, she replied,
"...So, ah... your name is Lothario? I think that's a nice name. I can't remember my own 'real' name, so I just jumbled together some letters and made 'Astana'. I hope it's tolerable..." she drifted off as she watched the liquid metal solidify into something else. Seeing it howl; seeing the colours reflect of its pure metal hide seemed to make her eyes like up like a child's.
"...Goodness. It's... beautiful-" but the sudden bashing of a door cut her off and snapped her out of a trance she seemed to be working into; it was probably for the best.
Hurrying over to the door, the two words by whoever was behind the door were plain and clear. She recognised the voice, settling her fear of it being an Orion, and swung it open for the man.
"You were here the whole time...?" she didn't dwindle the question for long, nodding her head back repeatedly for the man to come in,
"quickly now, quickly now."
As she opened the door, however, seeing this man wasn't the only thing that surprised her. There was another thing that surprised her - for the worse. It was a smell. A smell unlike something she'd ever encountered before. A hot smell. A smell of something roasting; a smell of blood boiling. It was the smell of charring flesh, and as Astana coughed and put a mouth over her nose and mouth, she couldn't comprehend how awful it was. She couldn't pair any colour with it. It was
> h o r r i b l e . <
"G-Gods..." she wheezed, staggering back, but eager to slam the door shut once more when the other man had come into the room,
"all those screams... those Fire Acerbi... d-do you think the Orion is the only people they're torturing? It's still horrible, but... I can only hope the innocent men have run free. Are you alright...?"
==>
A breath of relief escaped Moura as the door opened. It was blue eyes who had helped him again. Now she wore a brilliant blue dress that only made them pop so much more. He didn't have time to appreciate her eyes though. The Orions were already making there way down the stairs.
"Yes I was." He answered as she beckoned him to enter. She didn't need to tell him twice. He quickly made his was back into the dim basement.
He quickly took in the surroundings again. The presence of an odd portal was something certainly new. Was that their escape plan? The feminine man was also close to the door and had some sort of magnificent metal wolf with him.
'What all did I miss?' He quickly wondered. The door was shut behind him just in time to feel the added heat of the flames. Someone must have good control of flames. The smell that accompanied it was terrible. The bad burning of clothing and hair wafted into the room. Blue eyes' question was quite relevant. Knowing the idiots of the Golden Scribe, there was no way they weren't fighting back. They would fight for any reason, sometimes no reason at all. They probably weren't dumb enough to try and follow down the stairs, but who knew if this fire guy was just randomly burning the main floor too.
"I'm fine, but you're right. There are good people up there too. Who is the fire Acerbus? What is that portal too?"
==>
"Probably one of the other hot-headed gentlemen, if I had to guess." Hanselt - now Sir Lothario of Lemke - offered, "Portal's Elven made, the other Acerbi went through it to flank them. They probably should have just made a run for it, if I'm being honest. "
The footsteps approached, ever closer, doubtlessly eager to both accost any of the hidden Acerbi, and also to distance themselves from the volatile flames. Hanselt could feel the tension gnawing at his stomach, and other choice - doubtlessly inappropriate - parts of his anatomy. Palpable, tangible, and just waiting to...
pop.
The tension burst as the door open once more, an amalgam of Orion Knights making their way do the basement. And as the tense bubble burst, the staircase of wood snapped as if in rejoinder, sending a group of their armored adversaries to the floor. The other fine Lady Acerbi had done well, it seemed.
Bellerophon leapt, its steel maw gnashing at plate and flesh alike.
==>
It was now Astana understood the purpose of that young girl's actions, and she made a mental note to thank her for it. It had given them an invaluable advantage. That paired with the fact that the Orion were exhausted from the heat of upstairs, the five or so knights that had fallen to the floor were a lot more sluggish than they'd usually be.
'Bellerophon' charged into the fray, and whilst the nature of the metallic 'creature' was more gruesome than she thought, Astana didn't pay it any mind, and moved in with a quarterstaff trailing behind her.
As she ran towards one of the Orion, little bloblets of shining water were being left behind her that seemed to remain suspended and hummed gently in the air. As she got within melee range of the first staggered Orion, one of these 'bloblets' soared from its stationary position and joined her side, its shape twisting into that of a hand. A flick of her finger; a rush of concentration... it was all it took for the water 'hand' to lift the helmet from one of the Orion. A well-aimed strike to the upper nose with her staff silenced his screech of hatred towards Astana as one of the knights reached for a dagger to throw, and the helmetless knight fell unconscious. Despite seeming frail and 'new' to combat, Astana's movements seemed trained. It was odd, because... she couldn't remember having any training. Was it a hint to her faded past?
After knocking out the first, Astana sidestepped as the first hand dripped away into nothingness on the ground, bringing another water blob from behind her to assist her with the next felled Orion. But as the hand began to form, this one proved it wouldn't go down as easily. Shaking off debris fragments and clambering to his feet like a man possessed, this Orion had dropped his sword in the confusion, but it didn't stop him from his blind charge into the side of Astana. The sheer weight of the man combined with his metal plates was almost enough to knock her over, and the Orion followed up with a gaunlet-encased fist. The inhuman strength and speed caught Astana completely off guard, and the blow connected witht the side of her cheek. A crunch. A tooth coming loose.
> P a i n . <
A jawbone seemed to crack and blood began to leak from her mouth and nose as the punch literally knocked the woman off her feet. As Astana sailed through the air, however, another 'bloblet' she'd left began to follow her. The Orion reached for a dagger in replacement for his original weapon, and moved in to gut his felled target. But before he could wistfully plunge that dagger into Acerbus flesh, he found his legs unable to move. Looking down at his legs in bewilderment, the Orion's plated legs seemed to be coated in a lattice pattern of water that 'stuck' to him. Little tiny waves were being formed in the lattice; Astana's will and watery grasp around his legs enough to keep him rooted from moving any further.
"This is my power..." Astana wheezed from her position on the floor, wiping droplets of blood from her mouth,
"the power of water... the power the veil has chosen for me," the short sentences that were spoken mostly to herself, as the 'rooted' Orion only responded with grunts of teeth-filled rage. Shooting her head back, Astana called out,
"someone... please, knock out this one! I have great control over my water, but I can't project it at enough speed to incapitate an enemy with it instantly!"
==>
The two jumped into action behind him as the door burst open and the stairwell came crashing down. He wasn't sure what all was happening, but he needed to act too. He could figure out details later. The metal dog was pinning the Orions and doing well to push them back. Metal man looked to be holding his own at the moment, but blue eyes seemed to be struggling a bit more.
She knocked one man out with a stunning display, but took a hefty blow that knocked her into the air. Even before she cried out for help, Moura began his own charge at the Orion. He lept at the dagger the man held high and put all his body weight into the man's hand. He wrenched the dagger sideways as his body flew into the man, knocking him over. The armor was tough and the impact hurt Moura more, but the armor's weight and bane came into play. The man's leg was still held still while his body awkwardly crumpled sideways in the armor. His leg popped out of socket, but the raging Orion ignored any semblance of pain and began to batter Moura with his gauntlet. The dagger was now Moura's and after taking a few swings, he thrust the dagger into exposed juggular. Moura pulled the dagger back out as the Orion finally keeled over.
Another merely took his place. This one seemed to be in even more pain than the ones they already fought. His armor was burnt and even he looked crispy in certain areas. The man had worked his way out of the carnage and reared back with a club, ready to bash in Moura's head. He quickly dove out of the way while absorbing the light around him. He wasn't invisible now, but all that could be seen where Moura moved was a hazy black cloud. He moved back next to blue eyes and did the same thing to her. A grand swing through the cloud would still cut them in half, but now their forms were disguised.
The clubber continued after him, but Moura chose to help the metal man first. His creature was doing better than anything they were at stopping the flow of Orions. He clouded metal man the same way he had for them as well. It was a risk ignoring the clubber, but for some reason he felt blue eyes would be able to stop him again.
==>
"Heh, that you?" Hanselt gave a laboured chuckle as he addressed the dark entity that came to his assistance. He had picked up a spear from one of the Orion Bellerophon had downed - a fortuitous acquisition, as the afforded range helped to address his lack of combat expertise. "I have to admit, that's a pretty neat trick! Bellerophon!"
The quicksilver canine caught an Orion blade's downward swing upon its back. Steel embraced steel before Bellerophon bubbled over once more, its mass enveloping the blade that had struck it. Its appendages receded within itself, as Bellerophon assumed a serpentine form, a veritable cobra of metal.
It reared its head back in a soundless hiss, before beginning its furious assault, diving further into the group of Orion Knights. Its momentum plucked the blade that had struck it away from its wielder, who was summarily dispatched by an opportunistic strike from Hanselt's spear. Its smooth chrome form weaved and slithered in between and around the legs of the Orion Knight's, a malleable mass of metal contorting in unfathomable ways.
Bellerophon constricted, shackling the legs of the Orion.
"Oi! Fire guy?! Elf fuck?!" Hanselt's scream was a visceral congealment of both panic and, strangely, the amusement of near-death, "Any time now!"
==>
Astana swallowed uncomfortably, giving a very quiet 'thanks' as the knight she'd rooted was 'eliminated'. Though confused at the change of lighting at first, this darkness he'd created was causing confusion amongst some of the Orion's ranks. As well as this advantage amongst many, a majority of the next 'wave' of Orion were either ablaze or clearly suffering from superficial burn injuries. If so many conditions weren't working against the Orion, Astana knew this fight would be totally different.
Astana was quick to act on the sound of Hanselt's yell. Whilst she wasn't either of those people, she could use range to take care of at least one of the Orion. Extending her staff forward, the water Acerbi improvised with inspiration from the metal user's style. 'Bloblets' of water rushed to gather towards the end of her quarterstaff, forming together to make the shape of a long and thin appendage; a whip of water. A flick of the staff and expert control over her water wrapped the whip around the helm of one of the struggling Orion, prying it off with relative ease, and in one swift movement, Astana used this picked up helmet like a flail, combining it with the water whip's force to crash against the head of the man. The water's grip wasn't strong enough to keep hold of the helmet afterwards, causing the half-melted helm to clutter to the floor afterwards.
For a moment, the sound of the impact the helmet made as it floored the Orion led Astana to believe she'd actually killed someone, but her heart skipped a beat of relief when she still spotted the knight's breathing and heard his groans. He just wouldn't be getting up for a while. Realising this downed man was one of the people who had been set ablaze by the fire Acerbi, the woman sent a blob of water to gently fall down above the man, putting out the flames and causing a soothing sensation. He was out of the fight. There was no reason for him to suffer further.
Eyes looking back in front of her, Astana noticed the club-wielding Orion was in range of a swing against her or the light Acerbi in the time she'd done that. Dodging a swing that seemed to cause a small crater in the floor thanks to her darkened shroud, she tried to use the 'water whip' against him in the same fashion. However, as the watery appendage curled around the helm, she couldn't pry it off like last time. This Orion had paid attention to her fighting style and was firmly gripping his helmet.
"Now I know just where to crush you, scum." the words were muttered with wrath under the helmet of the man: using the water whip had made her position less discreet, as the water was trailing back to her position in the darkness. In a rush of panic, Astana quickly reformed the water whip into a flow against the trajectory of the club swing, slowing the blow of the club enough to make it non-lethal, but it still crunched against her stomach. The side swing spun her around and smacked her into a rotted table that shattered under her weight. Despite some pained moans and blood dripping from her mouth, she was still going strong despite the hits she'd taken. Sending out a large sphere of water, she held it over the Orion's club and caused a circular, flowing motion within the sphere that made it difficult to swing.
The clubber had not been taken care of yet, but fortunately for Moura, he diverted his attention. It was hard to distinguish any of them now and blue eyes created a water whip that distracted him. Her control was rather impressive.
'She doesn't seem that strong but her control is much more elegant then mine.' He looked up to see her drop a blob of water on a knocked out Orion. He was going to try and finish him off, but she was still taking hits.
==>
With his club slowed, it was hard for the clubber to move his arm. Moura took advantage of this and shoved the dagger into his arm from behind. Moura put his other hand on the back of the Orion's neck. With the man temporarily disabled, the light Ascerbi began to suck out his life force. It was already weakened, but it was still a rather strong force. He didn't like doing this at all, but when it came to killing Orions, it didn't feel that bad. The man's life force took several seconds to completely absorb, but the shocking and weakening effect of it kept him still. Fortunately, the now metal serpent had the others tied up and proccupied pretty well. When the man's life was gone, he merely crumpled to the floor in his armor.
He was tempted to help blue eyes, but she seemed far enough from them now that she should be relatively safe. The snake was struggling to hold them down now, and finishing them quickly would be best. Draining the Orion's life felt a lot like draining heat or light, and it was surprisingly easy. He wasn't sure if that was good. It helped a lot now though. He began to drain the life of an Orion from the far side of the room while he approached another from behind. The tip of the dagger stuck out from the could that was him as it plunged into an Orion's back. The other Orion was continuing to fight back with weakening vigor. A few more seconds and he crumpled as well. This new life force felt rather reinvigorating. After this he would be able to heal both blue eyes and the metal man.
He was beginning to gain attention though. It didn't feel like it mattered though. The remaining Orions were weak and burnt, and their numbers were dropping quickly. He might be able to build quite a reservoir of life force if the others didn't kill them. He really just wanted enough to heal the others, but some extra for emergencies wouldn't be bad. It felt good fighting back against the Orions too. It wasn't that he was against fighting, he just hated the idea of bringing more souls to suffer in this miserable world.
==>
Meanwhile, Hanselt and Bellerophon alike struggled with the continued onslaught. As Hanselt's strength waned, so too did the strength of his construct, an impassibility reduced to a mere obstruction. As the Acerbi's breath labored and his the fibers of his muscle strained, the steel serpent withered, allowing the Hunters to resume their fevered chase.
As the Orion neared, Hanselt's ad hoc weapon - the spear - would begin to fail. Three years under the tutelage of House Lemke's quartermaster was not near enough to make Hanselt a seasoned warrior, but even he knew the shortcomings of the polearm when the enemy's push became unsurmountable. Knight after Knight pushed forward, and at last Hanselt felt that the point of his spear found no purchase, weakened blows rendered moot by armor.
He had been lucky to have kept them mostly at bay, but his defense was to be broken. Where his spear had glanced off to middling purpose, it had now gone astray, parried to the side by the latest Orion Knight - his renewed energies augmented by a seasoned mind for the interplay of weaponry. The latest of the Orion Vanguard was blessed with sword and nimble feet alike, and danced his way inside Hanselt's zone of vulnerability.
The upward slash that graced his torso was thankfully subdued, although Hanselt would not feel particularly thankful. The Acerbi felt as if both soul and body were rended, portions of fat and muscle torn asunder - a blow that would have cleaved him in twain instead torturously carved flesh like soft nothingness. He screamed as his hands went limp - spear failing to the floor - and Bellerophon 'spasmed' upon the ground before launching upwards at the assailant.
Its form became flux as Hanselt struggled to cling to consciousness, until it became simply mass. A boulder of silver that tackled the Knight, fueled by the rage of its master.
A man possessed by unfathomable pain , Hanselt shrieked in rage and a shower of blood as he reached for his spear. He raised the pole-arm above his head - foolishly, perhaps, in a cleaving motion.
Bellerophon leapt once more, wrapping its mass around the tip of the spear, forming a hammer of wrath.
Hanselt brought it down upon the Knight's skull with a sickening crunch, before succumbing to pained slumber.
==>
'Auhh... this... this pain... this is just a lesson. This is the world teaching me how strong the Orion truly are,' Astana gripped her quarterstaff from off the ground weakly,
'I'm lucky to have such powerful people helping me...' as her thoughts finished, she watched in horror as the feminine man was dealt a blow that made a blood-curdling scream of pain erupt from his throat.
"N-NO...!" Astana shrieked as one more Orion descended upon the passed out man, seemingly to finish him off with a curved, razor-sharp blade. Acting quickly, Astana sent out some of her final 'bloblets' of water, forming them into a wave that rumbled across the ground. Snapping a hand back after a brief delay, the small wave turned direction again, carrying the passed out man away from the Orion's reach and towards Astana. Charging forth to secure the kill, the Orion's sprint bought him in front Astana in a matter of seconds.
As the wave released the injured man, Astana reformed it into an 'orb' that infiltrated the man's helmet. Only, this was no standard water. The deep green 'mold' within the surrounding wood suddenly seemed to fade into a colourless grey, as if their colour had been plundered. The deep green pigments combined with this orb Astana had created to create a thick blob of deep green 'dye' or 'paint' that completely blinded the Orion. Not able to breathe, see, or hear, he still swung randomly downwards with all his might. The blade went for the passed out man's neck, but as she toppled herself forwards, it instead sliced deeply into Astana's shoulder. An arm went limp and numb.
When the man tried to pull it out of her shoulder, Astana held it in there with a bare hand, the blade cutting her palm upon, causing a scream that was forged from both determination and agony. The deep green 'paint' continued to slosh inside the man's helmet, and his body trembled as it began to run out of breath. His body weakening as he began to drown, Astana snapped up to her feet and cast the paint away before the fluid actually killed the man. The Orion was so confused and weakened that she could swiftly tear away his helmet with her hand, kick her grounded staff up into the grip of her one working arm, and slam it into the bridge of his nose for a swift, clean knockout. As the Orion sailed towards the ground, he hurled a knife before passing out which embedded itself in the woman's lower leg, bringing her to a knee. Whilst noise remained upstairs, the basement became relatively silent. A long pause of heavy breathing through clenched teeth came, before Astana weakly spoke, a hand over the passed out man to check his pulse. He was still with them.
"Guh... a... are there any left? I need time. Time to h... heal... 'Lothario'..." Astana croaked, not knowing that another healing ability was with them, waving a cut-open hand and placing a line of glowering water that looked nothing like any of the previous forms she used over the area the young man was struck. Muttering unknown under her breath, the water seemed to hum with a lone tone, and swirled gently across the man's stomach like the purest river. The man, even in his passed out state, would feel a sensation of great relief as the water seemed to 'suck the pain' from his wound.
"This... this is a different form of water I've been bestowed with. ...It seems to heal slowly, but gives great relief..." Astana's glimmering eyes glanced up from the unconscious man, looking towards the light user,
"with this, we should fix our wounds however we can before heading upstairs... I... I think they've only stopped coming down here, because the battle up there is much more ferocious... I can hear the flames... oh, Gods..."
Compared to her appearance from when she began the battle, she was a mess. The blue of her dress was hidden in a mixture of mud, dirt, and green smears from her body's collision against rotted wood. Her smooth skin was barely noticeable from the drying blood caking around her mouth and nose; her charcoal hair lay ragged at one side of her head. Yet despite all of the pain and injuries that seemed to tug at her body, she refused to let go of conciousness. Her work wasn't done here.
==>
A few of the Orions seemed to have regained some vigor. Moura was working on draining another one's life when he noticed some that had been tied up by the metal man to go after him now. No doubt, they charged out of frustration from being bound. It was actually feeling easy as Moura got into a groove of disabling them with a dagger and further sealing their movements with the shock of having their life drained. There was one more that wasn't interested in raging after the metal man. He had certainly drawn a lot of aggro. As soft as he may have looked, he was quite capable. Moura finished draining him and had one more Orion that was interested in killing him.
He was rather lively as well, despite his crash and burn. Using the brief shock the man would feel from being drained, Moura plunged his dagger into his chest before the Orion could recover. The man's life was ended rather quickly by the dagger and didn't provide much for the Ascerbi. Having so much life felt odd, but he hadn't been in a fight to the death before today. There was no point in wasting.
The man crumpled in a red pool, while a blood-curdling shreik rang out. Blood sprayed out of the corner of Moura's vision as he turned to see the metal man get cleaved through his gut. Moura felt cold for an instance. He could only hope the man hadn't been killed. By the fact that he was able to bash the Orion's skull inward, he should still be alive, but the fact he lied unconscious in his own puddle of blood was very real. Another knight was already preparing to finish off the Ascerbi. There was no way he could reach him in time. He was surely about to witness another execution, when the passed out Ascerbi suddenly shot across the floor of the room. He lied in front of blue eyes now. It must have been her work.
There was another Orion waiting to finish the job if his counterpart failed the execution. After the first went running the second followed him, ready to finish off both blue eyes and metal man if his counterpart failed. Moura didn't wait to give him that chance. He darted after the two and again his dagger shot out from the dark essence and plunged into the back of the Orion. He pulled the dagger out and shoved it in again, repeating this only three times before he pulled the dagger out and threw the man to the ground. He looked up to see the other man flailing before his helmet was thrown off and he was knocked back on top of his companion. It seemed so sureal watching the flying man pull out a dagger himself and throw it into blue eyes' leg. It happened so fast he couldn't do anything.
Blue eyes still miraculously stayed conscious. No doubt out of the feeling that she needed to heal metal man. She was a miracle.
"There are none left." While releasing their fogs, Moura instantly jumped behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. Before she succumbed to her pain and exhaustion, Moura poured the excess life force he had stolen into her. After feeling she wouldn't pass out, he used one hand to gently remove the blade that was lodged in her shoulder. He threw it away once it was removed and was careful not to push life force into her too quickly. He wasn't sure how the body reacted to receiving life force to quickly. He then reached around her and slowly removed the dagger from her leg. He set it down next to the one he already made his own. It looked like she was doing well for the metal man, but she was right, her healing was slow. Her healing looked cleaner though.
"Your healing is very good, but it is slow. Use it on yourself as well to ensure the cuts heal well and don't leave terrible scars. When I've used this on plants they came away with bad scars where they healed. Bodies aren't meant to heal quickly. My name is Moura by the way. We'll help upstairs when we're healed, but you two need to take better care of yourselves." He thought about the reason why he came out unscathed, and that was only because these two distracted most of them while he stabbed them in the back. He felt a little cowardly at letting her take brunts of damage while he just snuck around.
==>
As 'Moura' relieved her of the blades stuck within in her, she let out a gasp of pained relief. The light felt soothing, calmed her mind, and hit her with the rush of energy she needed; it was a good thing Astana didn't know the true 'source' of that healing energy, or she might've not felt so energised. As Astana seemed to partially spring back to life, her water healing around Hanselt intensified a little. She bowed her head towards Moura, still looking very much worse for wear, but a lot better thanks to her wounds being tended by him.
"Moura... I can't thank you enough. I did not realize the powers of light could be used to heal wounds... I thought I was the only one with such a gift. It's a reassurance knowing others have such an ability. With it, I'm sure we can help pursue 'peace'. I have several ideas on how we can attempt to make amends with men, and 'healing'... this could be our best chance... i-if you are interested, of course..." Astana smiled, oblivious to the fact that the healing had been sucked out from dying men. More water bloblets lifted from the ground, 'spitting' out the filth inside them, before hovering and settling atop Astana's wounds, flowing to heal herself properly along with Hanselt, though the light had been a big help.
Astana looked around herself slowly as the basement fell silent. Bodies of Orion - some breathing, some burnt, some unmoving - littered the basement.
'...Did we really do all of this?' Astana thought idly to herself, tears welling up a little in her eyes suddenly. She shook them away,
'No... stay calm, stay calm. You didn't kill anyone. The others did so to protect themselves, and to protect you. There was no other option. You are still clean.'
And so, the two conscious members of the basement party worked to treat the wounds of Hanselt, and the wounds they themselves had attained over the course of the fight. 'Cowards', 'fools', even if they were those things, there wasn't one who could argue against the following fact:
they'd put up a damn good fight.
The words resonated within Solomon, more than they should have. Slender, eyes watched the elf unwaveringly yet his amber orbs were unfocused as he slipped into deep thought. Now Solomon was a believer in mutually beneficial arrangements, you could always trust someone to act in their best interests and should those interests match yours, the amount of risk significantly decreased. The elf, Trodden was his name, despite his condescending tone had Solomon's full attention.
"If we were to succeed in felling the King's rule, what would you plan from there? Equality and 'peace' for all races, or would we suddenly look down on men and abuse them as their numbers thinned?" She spoke like a natural born follower. Trodden's plans for the future while semi-relevant, were subject to change. Their actions would determine the future. Not the words of an aging elf. "That's unplausible. We are the minority. Should we attain a position of power, we should use it to attain independence. Any attempts at subjugation would be for naught, as any sort of human rebellion would have size to their advantage." Solomon glanced over his shoulder at the materialized door, idly wondering if the worn state of the wooden thing gave any indication to the Elf's own power.
Then, yet another Acerbus--the effeminate male who seemed to be more about his wits than he let on (if the glint in his eye was any indication), opened his mouth and Solomon suddenly had the feeling of being surrounded by naive children. Ones that clung to an already lost innocence. That feeling tempered his annoyance, none. "The Veil should have never been opened in the first place. I hope you never achieve your goal." Solomon blocked the male's path as he attempted to make his hasty exit--"Who are you to dictate, what should and should not have occurred? Things happen for a reason and your words immediately devalue our existence." Solomon was quick with words, perhaps more talkative in a room full of Acerbii than he had ever been in his measly two and a half years of existence. "Perhaps you believe that we--Acerbii, should have never existed in the first place? Easily, someone can make the same argument for human beings. We are not the issue here, nor is the veil. Mankind is." And up the stairs the thin male went--scampering away like a roach being exposed to the sunlight. 
