Tales of Agganoth: Seals of Olric

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Without losing momentum, Cordelia set down her barrel and belted the stranger's scabbard at her middle. Being armed came with a certain sense of control that had previously been left void by the loss of her blades. With its return there was a shift in her expression... one from dire unease to a deliberate calm, and a ghost of a smile formed as she latched the leather strap. With a careful eye, she watched the conversation between the captain and his compatriot while she worked, curious but not invasive. After the latter had left, she bent to take up the water barrel she'd set at her feet.

"Search party?" A brow lifted, her thoughts seeming to journey for a moment before the urgent eruption from their other companion drew her back to full attention. Forgoing the barrel, her eyes danced up to the rooftops just as the first volley of arrows launched. Without much thought, she dove towards the captain, and with the spur of movement, tackled him out of the way of the sudden barrage, and behind a large stack of crates. Landing hard on her side and rolling back against a crate, her breath came in a sharp gasp. Hood thrown back, waves of dark curls tumbled out and pale skin seemed first to flush, then lose its color in rapid succession as trembling fingers hovering over the sharp barb of an arrowhead poking out of her shoulder.

"To hell with today..." Teeth grit, beads of sweat glistening on her forehead, she glanced over at the man she had unceremoniously stampeded and gave him a look of grim amusement, "Alright there, dear? Might be I could use a hand..."
 
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Holt was pinned behind the barrier that the woman pushed him into. The volunteer crowd that had been assembled also ran and went into cover. Already ships were sailing away with their crew on board, while others were left marooned trying to swim towards the fleeing ships. The man that was with her ran behind the barrier also so they were a group again. Holt wouldn't go into the open and dodge arrows, not for a lack of unwillingness, but because he knew himself not to have the necessary agility for the task. His life as a galley slave punished and strained his muscles into a rigid form unsuited for that kind of movement. Holt also didn't know much about removing arrows, barbed ones especially. He let the ship doctors take care of wounds like that. However, he found that he did have a grip on the woman's shoulder in an attempt to stem the bleeding.

"Can you treat her?" asked Holt to the other man. He didn't know if he was a doctor or not, but he did have an appearance of learnedness.

"Hold on." he said to the woman. They both needed the help, to get an advantage. He was tempted to leave the two to try for the ramp, but they had paid, and had been willing to help him douse the fires. With his other hand, he put his fingers to his lips and whistled loudly, in hopes to perk up the ears of his very small skeleton crew that remained inside the ship, parked sideways on the dock.

"Arm center cannon!" Holt shouted at the top of his lungs. He hoped assassins couldn't hear him at this distance, but if they did, at least he could put the fear in them, get some to run, to get an opening. After the next volley of arrows, Holt peeked from the barricade and got a glimpse of a group of assassins on one rooftop and yelled a heading. The wooden center panel above him dropped after a long pause and a return whistle was sounded.

"FIRE!"
 
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Collaboration post with: @Esper
Mentioned: @Elvario @Remun

Nikilina expanded the young man’s arrow wound with an incision, cleaning the site and using specialized tongs for removing the arrows by cupping the head so it did not slash more on removal. The arrow had not hit anything vital in the young man. That was lucky and meant fewer additional measures would be needed to heal him up.

She spoke in plain tone as one used to dealing with such wounds while keeping her brows furrowed in concentration. The noise around her seemed to fade as she worked. There was only the wound, the patient, and her right now. “Sorry, better I do this right so it heals without infection. Still it will hurt.”

As the man’s brother approached however upon her pulling the head out from the wound he patted Niki in thanks. Still as Niki’s hand was dealing with the wound she felt the near identical life forces in a stream. It was odd to explain, like deja vu.

She didn’t understand it, but noted a brief wince from the wounded man’s brother. She turned only briefly, finding the self-same wound the arrow from was removed from was now closed. “Sir, go sit down. You look ill, like you’re about to vomit on me. Don’t or I’ll punch you out.”

Her eyes looked at the wound and felt it. There was no scarring, no sign the wound itself was ever there now. She wiped away the blood that remained and bandaged the area anyways, lightly. “Keep an eye on the wound site for a few days. Looks like you’re a quick healer or lucky, but no reason to take chances with a limp the rest of your days, you hear?”

The thief it looked like didn’t need any other help for the time being. It was a light gash of a head wound, but nothing penetrative compared to the other wounded she started to assist, noting her supply expenditures for recompense later.

It served the woman right, Niki conjectured for charging at her as she did, then ducking into the arrow. Niki was aiming cleanly for the thigh. Painful perhaps, but not nearly as deadly as the cut and head knock.

In having helped attend the few she could, she finally spoke up to one of the guards. “The other bumped her head trying something fancy. Charged from an alleyway and I shot at her. Don’t know if she’s a criminal, enemy or not. I’ll leave that to your law master to decide. I’m just the ambassador’s guide and for the time being medic for hire.”

=================================================================

Bronya supported the injured man as their rapidly growing group limped towards the keep, one eye constantly on “Teun” as he led them further into the city. Luckily, the keep stuck out as a constant landmark, meaning that she could make sure that they were in fact making progress towards it over time. She watched silently as Teun yelled to the gatehouse and Melia talked to the guards, gaining them entrance, handing over the injured man to one of the guards so that she could take the rear guard, making sure all of the civilians got in before slipping through the gates as well.

Watching Niki go off to start healing the injured, she checked in with her quickly to make sure she didn’t need anything before going over to the guards near the gate. ”That man that came in with us, that one.” She said subtly pointing towards Teun. ”When we got into the city, he came at us out of nowhere, seemingly very interested in and waiting for the Empress’s ambassador’s to come. He then was very excited and nearly demanded that he lead us to the keep, winding us through back alleys into at least one potential ambush. He claims to be a local hunter, but me and my partner have been wilderness guides most of our lives, and he acts like no hunter either of us have ever known. The ambassador can back-up my claims if needed, and...well, I would like it if me and my partner not be caught up in this? We were hired to get the ambassador here, and she is here now so...our business is done and once the city is secured, we plan to move on.”

Finishing the speech she had prepared in her head on the way over awkwardly, she crossed her arms and awaited the guard’s response.
 
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Lee, the Warpriest
The fires were raging still; the smoke, thick, black and billowing, flowed upwards from multiple sources in the city, their combined outputs nearly blotting out the rising sun. Lee's heavy steps were heard loud and clear what with his armor and backpack contents clanking together as he strode down a cobbled pavement.

It took him some time to reach the side of the capital where the docks were situated, curtesy of these seemingly invaders of sort. Lee had fended off several assaults on his person while navigating to his destination, but had yet to piece together the true culprit behind the attack. All the figures that he'd defeated wore identical yet non-descript clothing: a simple cloak, pants, shirt, along with the assorted items an assassin might have on their person. Weapons such as short swords and daggers were the most common, probably favoring a fighting style that relies more on maneuverability and precision than pure strength. Too bad they had met Lee and not any other knight.

Lee looked around at the houses and stores as he walked; doors and windows closed shut and, he reckoned, barred by wooden planks at this point. "If the enemy is prone to arson, those measures might prove to be unwise," he mused.

---

As he got closer and closer to the docks, the sound of battle reaching him strengthened considerably, signaling that there was ongoing conflict at that location. "Just as I suspected..." With that thought in mind, Lee stopped advancing and took refuge in a small gap between buildings, taking a moment to ready himself. He brought down his backpack, grabbed his one handed sword from its place and strapped it to his hip before hoisting the backpack once more, securing it tightly in place. With his two-handed sword resting on his shoulder, hands tightly clenched around the hilt, Lee let out a sigh and exited the alley.

The pavement ended some distance away from his location, giving way to a large open space, and beyond that were the docks. The scent of sea salt and fish soon assaulted his nostrils, but his attention was wholly on the battle that was currently taking place in the little dock square.

"Light be blessed..." Lee let out under his breath as he watched the small barricade of ship crates getting bombarded by arrows, the sound of their whizzing through the air bringing back memories he would've rather not be reminded of.

It seemed like whoever was behind those crates would not have the chance to run away lest someone caught the attention of the attackers. Lee had some thoughts on how to go about doing exactly that, but he was quickly robbed of his budding plan by a cloaked figure. They approached fast from his flank, sword swinging sideways in a bid to strike his side, something that would have succeeded in injuring him hadn't it been for the chainmail underneath.

Stifling a pained groan, Lee turned around, swinging his sword with him and just barely catching the figure with the tip as they dodged. Immediately he assumed a battle-ready stance and launched at the retreating enemy. Out of balance as they were from dodging his previous attack, they were not able to do so a second time. The longer reach his sword afforded him allowed Lee to plunge it deep into his victim before swiftly drawing back and slicing up at the same time.

Lee took in a sharp breath and immediately turned around, checking his surroundings for any more enemies that would be lurking, but no one else came forth from the shadows. The, now dead, man had fallen face first onto the stone pavement, and blood was now seeping through the cracks beneath him. Lee looked at the body and, after thinking for a few seconds, stepped right next to it.

"Blessed be the Lord of Light; May he peer into your soul and judge you fairly," he gave a short prayer before swiftly bringing his sword down and decapitating the body. Quickly grabbing the head and without taking even a moment to look at it, he marched into the open space of the square and tossed the head on the ground. Obviously aware of the eyes on him, he nevertheless let out a loud shout.

"COME AT ME AGRENNA DOGS!"

He knew nothing of the origins of the assailants, but he hoped his blatant provocation would anger them enough to focus on himself, giving the besieged a chance to escape towards the ships.
 
Once they were inside of the castle, it all seemed to go smoother than expected. The injured Rodent was taken from him, not before he had a feel of her pack of course, which turned out to be quite mediocre though her boot-knife was more interesting to Valence. Apparently the little intruder he had to carry showed more cunning than he had given her credit for after getting shot this easily. The hands which had felt her pack up stopped at that. He was neither interested in her body nor the potential heat it could bring him since this kind of behavior is usually frowned upon.

After Rodent was lying down, being treated and cared for, he started to slump down himself, taking a nice “plunge” down to the ground. Valence groaned as he landed, his hands covering his face. Well, they covered it enough to hide his features and for him to see through enough to get the basics of what was going on. He perceived many guards running around them and being busy with different tasks, ranging from securing the grounds to asking questions or organization. With some adjustments, his gaze also fell upon the hunter duo that had brought in the Empress Guard which were tending to the injured quite expertly for what he understood of it all. The thanks were not what he had expected to receive from her, nonetheless a humble pose as well as a “Happy to Help Miss.” Came from him with a shaky voice. One Person caught his attention more than the others. While Melia was the most interesting person to the guards, so they bombarded her for now, a fair maiden was far more exciting to him.

The Oracle herself was just in spitting distance of him, standing there and talking like nothing was wrong within the world, having a nice chat. While he himself believed in the powers she represented since the shamans back in his home were of a similar nature, Agrenna was of different belief and would rather have her head on a pike near the palace.

A suitable price if he messed up the mission he was on. Most likely, he already had. He hated this unexpected situation, hated his own dumb mistakes that were made along the way. Valence is sure that he could play his cards right to save this situation or at least he hoped so but it would require a fair amount of work to be put into this… situation. Either way, he wanted to go to his hideout, have a nice puff and just let this all to blow over and maybe wait long enough for someone of the same expertise to take him out.

Instead of running, he stood up with his knees aching a little from carrying Rodent through the city whilst running as fast as he could. Still, it's nothing. Working the dust away from his clothes after standing up straight. A few slaps to his own face were meant so he could get a grip on this new situation and to discourage his mind from wandering too far away. Nothing out of the ordinary he hoped. The guards were unable to vouch for him, he did not see too many of them in his time spent in Norcrest.​




He was still thinking, trying to look like he was getting a grip again after what had just happened when the young lady he had carried over here caught his attention and then talked to him. Her voice was not too loud, still a bit weak so far but surprisingly melodic to his ears. Turning towards her with feigned concern, his voice stabilized the more he talked to her. “Ah, yes. How are you?” Was that a good first response after others had asked? Maybe so from someone like him. “We are at Keep, it will be safe. I do think that they won’t shoot again. They hit you once, so as long as you are not black cloak, you are fine I hope. Are you...attacker?” His intense eyes focused on Rodent as he waited for a reply, trying to figure out her thoughts simply by looking into her soul, or so some say when it comes to the eyes.

Valence was positioned so he could still see most people in the room they were in which also gave him the chance to spot Bronya talking to guards and even without picking up on her subtle hint, the looks from the guards were telling him enough so that he knew what was going on. This could end badly for him, very badly. He had to go with the flow if he wanted to get out of this place alive or at least not imprisoned.

@Sarnai @Esper @Elvario @Boo Girlie BoomBoom
 
@Elle Joyner @foodforpigs @Vec


Deklan
--------
Deklan panted as he leaned against the crates. Arrows pierced through everything he could see; his heart was pounding against his ribs so hard he thought it was trying to make its final escape. They were all going to die in the streets like rats pelted by arrows shot from children's practice bows.

The pirate snatched his attention causing Deklan to scurry low to the ground on all fours over to the woman who'd saved his life before. Blood seeped from the wound as the arrow pierced through her shoulder, back to front.

"I-I-I," he stuttered as he looked at the wound, another volley of arrows pelted the crates they hid behind, "I dun' know." He studied the arrow again for a moment and hovered his hands over the shaft, "I suppose if I break it 'ere, we could pull it through without serious damage." Deklan swallowed hard and offered a sympathetic glance at the woman, "This might hurt." His fingers curled around the shaft, her blood coating his fingers. He squirmed a moment and swallowed back his dinner from the night before, "On de count of three."

"One."

"Two."

"FIRE!" the pirate yelled and the blast of a cannon sounded off. Between that and the subsequent explosion that shattered the rooftop and rained debris everywhere, Deklan let out a small screech, jumped, and snapped the head clean off the arrow.

"I'm sorry, so sorry!" he apologized frantically as he discarded the arrow head, "Dat probably hurt way more dan it should 'ave."

A horrendous battlecry drew his attention for a moment as he tossed...a head into the square. Deklan swallowed back his dinner once again.

"Let's get dis out of 'ere," he chose to focus on the woman with the arrow. He maneuvered his way behind her and placed a hand firmly against her back while the other hand gripped the shaft. His face twisted into grimace reflecting the phantom pain he was feeling as he slowly drew the arrow from her back, "Once dis is free, wrap it up right and tight. She'll need stitches later," he told the pirate.

With one more tug, Deklan pulled the shaft free and stood in triumph, "Got'cha!" A sudden drum of a few arrows against the crate caused him to dive back behind cover clutching the bloodied shaft against his chest.

--------

The rain of arrows paused a moment as the head rolled to a stop in the town square. From his perch on a rooftop, a figure stood to his full height. His cloak danced in the wind; the fire revealing the storm raging behind his eyes. The other cloaked figures looked on in fear as though the gesture made by the soldier in the square invited hell to rampage through the streets.

"Bring me his head," the cloaked figure spoke quietly, "and recover my brother's body, his head included."

Three figures that stood by him saluted and quickly disappeared from the rooftops.

The figure drew back his bow and aimed it at the man who'd tossed the head. The string thrummed as he released it. The arrow whistled through the air, and with a thud sunk deep into the muddied ground between the soldier's feet. This man had gotten the attention of the wrong general.
 
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~Rodent~

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<~~<>~~>​



A pleasant squeal of surprise popped out from the little thing followed by a bubbly giggle.

"Attacker?" both hands she held out, palms in his direction, "d'ye mean that in the fullest, mate...?! Your eyes sharp, are they...?"

One hand slid up and patted the spot of raven hair at the topmost of her 5 foot tall body and held firm, the other hand reached up impossibly to measure the height of the male archer in front of her. To her tippie-toes she leaned and hopped up several times before once more bursting into a fit of laughter.

"T'would be in ye best interests to armour those shins there mister, should this here lass attacks ye-- rawwwwrrrr!! Hahahahahahah...!" at this point, she needed to hold her tummy and for once tears not made or fear, self-pity nor sorrow leaked from the corners of her eyes, "ahhhhh but mercies of Athos, 'Mister Sharp-eyes', ye tickles me to teary eyes, ye do...! Pleasure met to meet ye. Oh, and should the owner of these teary eyes have a name... t'would be Ro, it would. "

She wiped away at her eyes, shoulders still rollicking with humour. That was right up until this lady wearing a flowy, yet stained dress, strut forward amidst several folks. The red-eyed fancy-armoured lady spoke quite formally whilst making plans with this strange lady who claimed to be the 'Oracle.' But that is not what concerned Rodent. A smirk pulled up at the corner of her mouth and yes, her eyes were still wet and shiny since tears just fell from them, but the green circlets therein glinted with suspicion.

This was not the 'Oracle' she sought. No, this maybe some kind of imposter or another she may not have ever heard of. The 'Oracle' of whom Rodent knew, she would recognize in a heartbeat. Yes, it was only the elder Angel Sisters that interacted with the Oracle in times when they needed a con, but Rodent was always close enough to note the mannerisms and speech patterns of that Oracle. Yes, Rodent could do a good impersonation of her, but she could not impersonate the grifter's height nor her strange eyes. "Spooky-Blues..." That blue-eyed gaslight gaze? Nay, this Oracle did not have those eyes.

Her hackles rose that much more as she sensed the tension oozing from the tall archer, Mr. Sharp-eyes, beside her. Without turning her head, she followed his gaze and instantly understood his anxiousness; she was not alone feeling very, very uncomfortable with the guards eyeing them. But the difference it seemed was that despite her youth, she played it off much cooler than he. Still, she recognized that his apprehension towards the law-enforcers was a great opportunity to make an ally. The wooziness within her began to subside as the adrenaline began to pump once more.

<~~>​

"Mr. Sharp... with me now. Ro will do entertaining for the wee totters now," with her finger she pointed towards the clustered children: wounded, wailing and waiting for parents that may or may not return, "quite a crowd will form and stare. Even the guards will watch too--" with her eyes she pointed at the main gate and she lowered her voice and lowered her chin "--if ye need, Mr. Sharp, you do not need to watch too, especially if ye needs to be... elsewhere. Without them guards..."

And with that she nodded at him, grabbed her kit and sauntered over to the sorry lot of younglings and babes, "Oi, oi, oi, why make such uglins n' squicks then...?! Not allowed that be, not especially while ye friend, Ms. RoRo the Tell n' Taler, be in ye midst...!"

Rodent thickened her Norcrest accent and spoke with the slang the children would know: 'uglins and squicks' meant the faces and actions of upset children, usually ones that were having a tantrum. All faces definitely would turn to actively deny they were doing any such thing.

Into her pack she went, rifling quickly through and grabbing the bundle of soft, fluffy things tied together. She retrieved 2 of them then stood upon her kit like it was a mini stage. Both hands behind her now she presided, "Hear ye never the tale of--" one hand whipped out in front of them wearing a raggedy, button-eyed wolf puppet, "--Bitey, the Shifty and Hungered...?!" The children gasped, some squealed with joy.

The other hand whipped out in front of her wearing a fuzzy, single-eyed bunny puppet, "And o'course, of Bicker, the Lippy and Quickened--" instant applause and cheer from the younglings as any who had been told the bedtime story of 'Bitey and Bicker' and knew it by heart "--oh ho, ho! Be ye heard o' them, matesies and mini-matesies, but not like this, nay! Not from the mouth of she! Ms. RoRo!! The bestest Tell n' Taler in the whole o' Norcrest is she, and ready y'hearts n' ears! T'would be best should ye lot gather round, hold hands and criss ye crossers for she! Quickly, me loves! Quickly before the tale be half old now!"

All squeaking with joy and stampeding on over, the children gathered before her and she grinned shiny and wide. Despite her weakness and deficiencies, in this time of pain and suffering befallen to all, Rodent finally felt like herself; like the old days when she and her Sisters would volunteer at hospitals and orphanages in Norcrest. She nodded encouragingly to all others that wished to hear the tale and pointed with her puppets around her.

And to the other that she called Mr. Sharp, she pointed with her eyes towards the exit where the guards stood and watched Rodent, with bated breath, waiting for the show to begin.

<~~<>~~>​


 
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TAG || @foodforpigs, @DarinValore || MENTIONED | @Vec

With the resounding boom of the canon came blinding, seering white-hot pain. Quick. A flash, as sharp and swift as the cry it drew, and then it was gone again, smoothed into a throbbing that pulsed from head to toe. That was what Cordelia felt as the arrow was snapped from the wound. The taste of copper rolled down her throat and tears burned at her eyes, but the short lived agony bore some fruit. With the arrow out, she pressed her palm against the seeping hole and her eyes shifted between both men, "Thanks, I think." She noted, flashing a small, weary smile to her makeshift medic, before looking up at the captain with a chuckle, "Stitches will have to wait, love... unless you keep a needle and thread in your pockets. Good thinking, that..."

Debris still clattered to the cobblestone square and the acrid scent of smoke filled the air, as shifting slightly, Cordelia looked around the crates. A new contender had arrived, and she felt her stomach churn at the brutal display with which he announced his arrival.Still, it was effective. The arrows had ceased, for the moment, and it was a window, if nothing else, for them to get to the boat. Fire burned higher from the cannon assault and as dawn brightened against the horizon the world turned briefly red and in the bloody silhouette, she could just make out the shape of cloaked figures, rushing towards the man in the center of the docks.

For a moment, her conscience danced on the edge of self preservation over decency, and few would have blamed her, she was sure, if she's chosen then to bolt for the ship. But she had learned a long time ago that the consequences of a selfish decision could weigh heavy long after the fact, and any ally was a good ally, "Good thing it wasn't my favored arm…"

Craning back to her two companions, Cordelia frowned lightly, "We’ve got a chance… but it would seem our distraction's gone and got himself in a bit of a bind." Easing herself upright with a hiss, she reached with her free hand to pull free the borrowed blade, teeth grit as the metal sang against its sheath, “I don’t expect you to help, but I’d be rather grateful, all the same.”
 
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Maunari clung to the safety of intersecting alleyways. It soothed her, being shrouded in the dark, nothing but the thump of her footsteps present to her ears. Even if it proved to be nothing more than a vivid dream, Mau savored the fresh air ponding her face, savored the taste of sweat as she forced herself to hasten. Her staff remained slung safely between her shoulders, her head bobbing from side to side with each stride forward. She could feel the adrenaline pounding from her hands to her tongue. The itch for a fight lit her skin in a fury of flames. How long had it been since she had the proper crack of her staff against an opponent's skin? Her father, perhaps, during a spar when Mau had grown too restless to sleep one humid night. But she went gentle with him. Purple and blue weren't good colors for his sun-kissed skin. She'd never tell him she went easy, never wanted him to see how easily he could beat her in a spar if he wished. Against a potential attacker, however? Her heart leapt at the challenge.

Mau sucked oxygen between clenched teeth to soothe the heavy rhythm of her heartbeat. Composed. She couldn't let her excitement take control. She'd become clumsy. Miss her potential blind spots that enemies could see. One sweep of her leg and she could end up with a cracked skull on the cobblestone. Her head looked prettier assembled, thank you very much.

The end of the alley came into view. Chaos, utter horrid chaos. Mau grinned. Arrows flung themselves through the air, landing through targets designated at the end of the boat. The loud boom of the canon rocketed through the desolate docks. Screams of assassins and victims alike. Mau swallowed the ever-growing lump in her throat. Jump in now darling and you can strike a cannon ball right back into its cannon~ No way you can lose a hand from that, dear~

Mau huffed at the voice humming in her head. Slung against her waist lay the small pouch of bone fragments. She plucked a thin sliver, a fragment from what she believed was a thigh bone of a smaller creature, buried in the sands close to the mountain range she and her father traversed over several years ago. Gathering her long hair behind her, she slid the sliver between the bundles, forming a loose, haphazard bun. It would at least keep strands of hair from blinding her as she flung herself against a burly assassin. That, and if there was one thing Naro had taught her, if there was to be a brawl, you'd grab to anything you could hold on to and pull.

Positioning her staff beside her, she peeked from the safety of her hovel to witness the sheen strike of a metal blade. The spurt of blood spattering the ground below reminded Mau of Naro's arrow striking true. She had only ever witnessed a man slump to his knees once, toppling over in a lifeless lump. In Mau's case, at least she knew he'd stir awake. Mau turned from the sight, not quite shaken, not quite pleased.

Which ever god or goddess that is merciful enough to listen to my stammers, please watch over the soul of the man whose blood has been spilt. Even if he proves to be dangerous.

Mau released her breath. Turning back, she heard rustling on the rooftops above her. Remaining as silent as a house mouse, she positioned her foot in front of her, prepared to spring forward in a strike. From the words spoken overhead and his screaming, she got the general idea of which group of people needed more smacking than the other.

If my theory is correct and I'm actually asleep I'm just winning either way. Just a quick smack or two...

Mau peered across the alleyway, searching for any boxes or inclines in the wall that could help her scale it to the roof. A smile graced her face as she recalled what had happened mere minutes before. Ducking behind the building, she glanced at the other alleyway, noting the uptake in the dirt. The cannon ball. Beautiful, now as long as one didn't contact her skull, she had a chance. She crouched, waiting for the coast to be clear before tracking her way up the mound, digging her fingers into the edge of the roof, and pulled herself up. She raised her quarterstaff, glancing at the bow in his hand. If she could strike her quarterstaff true, she'd have him crumble in one blow. She raised it above her shoulder, taking a step back, before stepping forward and striking towards his skull.
 
Lee, the Warpriest
Lee did not really expect to be greeted by the sound of cannon fire and explosions as he made he appearance in the square, but that's what had happened. Though his voice was loud, giving him an edge in commanding his knights to battle in the past, he hadn't ever really tried shouting over literal cannons.

Yet, it seemed that he had succeeded in gaining the opponent's attention, as the volley of arrows heading for the makeshift crate bunker had stopped. Lee had previously followed the arrow's trajectory back to their origin and locked on a specific building, where the majority of the arrows were being shot from. "That one's probably teeming with enemies..."

Just as he was thinking that, he spotted a cloaked figure coming forth and standing at the edge of the building's rooftop, staring right back at him. Just as inconspicuous as the rest of the enemies; Lee, nevertheless, could feel a certain commanding aura emanating from him. "So you're the big guy here, huh..."


Lee balanced his greatsword on his shoulder and made a motion towards the head of the enemy he had slain previously, before pointing back at the cloaked figure and making a figurative line with his thumb over his throat. You're gonna end up the same was the message is roughly intended to convey, and it seemed to have worked.

In but a few seconds, the figure had a bow and arrow in his hands aimed right at him. His shield was still mounted on his back, but his whole body was armored except from his head, so he wasn't really worried about the arrow hitting and injuring him. Bringing his large sword over his head, he protected himself as he watched the arrow whiz through the air and hitting the soft ground right next to his feet. "A warning shot... I am a target now. Good."


Lee would usually be fighting with his greatsword in open spaces such the square, but with the threat of arrows being shot at him being ever-present, he made a swift decision. He threw the greatsword to the side and grabbed his shield from his back, wearing it on his left arm. Then he drew his shortsword and assumed battle-ready position, his eyes darting all around him in an attempt to uncover any potential ambushes.

"It's gonna be a long night this one, innit?" he sighed.
 
The Oracle
Neveah moved with a grace usually only seen in the most noble of people, yet she was elbow deep in some of the grimiest work having helped the wounded and refugees find shelter and hope in the safety of the Norcrest Keep. She surveyed the small band that would be her escort on her journey to save the world. It was a rather unique group with some who had no liking or loyalty toward her, but if they didn’t do their part, she would not succeed. It was imperative that she convince them to join her.

Melia was the first to speak. Neveah couldn’t help but smirk just a little at the dismissive attitude the woman had toward her. The young Empress had picked the perfect guard loyal to the crown and nonsensical in nature. The Oracle scanned the great hall within the keep and sighed, “They’ve infiltrated the city and broken the first seal. This,” she gestured toward all the chaos around them, “this is just a smoke screen. Throw the city into chaos, and anyone who isn’t me wouldn’t notice why they’re here until they’re long gone.”

Neveah used the part of her forearm not red with blood to wipe sweat from her brow, “I need your help, Melia, and the help of your escorts. These people will not stop here with Norcrest. They’re quest will drive them throughout Agganoth until every seal is broken. Every nation will burn; every ruler will fall, including your young Empress.”

A set of guards began to move from the gate, their hands on the hilts of their blades ready to be drawn. They had just finished listening to Bronya, thanked her for the information, and were heading straight for Valence and Rodent.

“If you’ll excuse me a moment,” she smiled politely to Melia, “I have another matter to take care of before we leave. Please, take this moment to consider my words and make your decision.” With a polite bow, Neveah stepped away and headed straight for Valence and Rodent in order to intercept the guards.

She arrived just as the two guards began to speak, “Excuse me,” she apologized to the guards then looked at Valence, “I’ve been looking for the two of you. Thank the gods you were unharmed.”

The two guards looked at each other then to the Oracle, “You know him?”

“Of course!” she smiled, “I trust I don’t need to explain how or why I know him?”

“No, of course not,” the guards looked between themselves again before bowing to honor the woman before them and turning on their heels and walking back to the posts.

“Right, then,” she smiled and clasped her hands at her waist, “Valence, Rodent,” she nodded, “I’m Neveah. Everyone calls me the Oracle. Something horrible is happening and I need your help.”
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Deklan
Deklan’s head swam as he struggled to track the words the woman spoke and the chaos around them. His right arm clung desperately to the satchel strapped to his chest while his staff lay on the ground just an arm’s stretch away. With the barrage of arrows having ended, he quickly discarded the arrow he was holding and snatched up his staff.

The streets were littered with debris, and the buildings were shattered. Many were held up simply by the few stacks of debris or beams that trembled under the weight of everything above them. It was a terrible sight to behold.

“W-Wait. You want ta charge inta that?” he gestured toward the men set to fall upon the lone warrior in the street. He groaned and for a moment considered running the opposite way. The only thing that stopped him was the sure death that would follow. His odds of living were greater with these two even when he considered the foolish charge the woman suggested.

Another groan escaped as he pushed himself to his feet, “Fine. Can’t let you go and get yourself shot again now can I? Who’d pull this one out?” He tried to wear the humor like a mask hiding the fear that gripped his heart.

As the group began to run toward the lone warrior, Deklan noticed the instability of the debris piles holding the roofs in place. A stupid idea immediately formed in his head. While the woman and the pirate ran off to aid the warrior, took his staff and, in between dodging enemies, began to swing frantically at the piles. They wouldn’t budge. Knowing that his newfound ‘friends’ were outnumbered and wouldn’t last long unless something was done, he frantically searched the battleground for something heavy enough to help him knock out the debris. His eyes settled on the greatsword discarded by the warrior.

Swallowing hard, Deklan dodged under an attack and swept out the attacker’s feet. With a quick downward swing, he brought his staff across the attacker’s face, knocking him out instantly. Ducking behind broken crates, Deklan scurried like a mouse around the fight until he found the sword. He frowned the moment he picked it up. It was far heavier than he anticipated, but that’d be good if he could make it back to the debris. Because of its weight, Deklan dragged the blade behind him as he retraced his steps around the battle. He kept glancing toward the group as they fought off the never-ending stream of villains pouring off the edge of the building. They were going to die if he didn’t hurry.

He was panting and downright exhausted when he finally made it back, but he couldn’t let that stop him. With a grunt, he shouldered the sword, “He. Made. This. Look. So. Easy.” Deklan recalled the ease the warrior had shouldered and discarded the sword. With one last glance toward the battle, Deklan turned his back to the debris and then spun as he extended the sword. His face twisted in a grimace while he held his breath as he fought the urge to drop the awkwardly heavy weapon. It slammed into the debris. Vibrations rattled up his arms and down his body as he let out the breath he was holding.

The debris creaked, but didn’t move.

“Son of a bi-” Deklan started but was interrupted by the sudden snap of wood and the shift of bindings that held the debris in place. Finally, the debris gave way and the roofs began to fall one after the other.

Deklan’s eyes grew wide as the roofs fell that had just served as the fount of endless bad guys. Ruin rolled toward him like a wave.

“Oh!” he cried out as he quickly jumped back and ran to the opposite end of the street.

The remaining villains, once they saw their source of reinforcements and escape cut off, were either cut down during their moment of surprise or scurried off to regroup.

Deklan crumbled against the side of a building, “Now that was fun, wasn’t it,” he said sarcastically.
 
Collab With @DarinValore

The man in the square made a gesture that, in any other circumstance, would have made him smirk. He was overconfident, and usually he mocked and used that to his advantage. This time, however, he was far too angry, too lost to grief, to see through the mockery. He had just knocked another arrow and aimed it at the man’s chest when something caught the corner of his eye. He was being attacked! He growled as he side-stepped to avoid the blow. His attacker forced him to release the arrow off target. He didn’t even check to see if he hit the man already knowing he’d clearly missed. Instead, he focused on his assailant with hatred burning in his eyes.

Mau’s plan worked! In a sense. Not for her. Definitely not for her. That didn’t matter, she got what she wanted, his attention to be on her. It would give her potential ally on the ground below a better chance to fight off assailants. Her eyes swiftly darted back to the edge of the roof. She side stepped after the failed blow, using the leverage to push herself a few feet away from the edge. She offered the man a crooked grin. Despite the terrifying fire in his eyes, Mau found the excitement to be building once again. Swallowing a breath, she raised her staff, as if to confirm the duel, before stepping forward and slamming the quarterstaff down towards the hand holding his weapon.

With an aptitude associated with veteran, skilled warriors, the man used the shaft of his bow to deflect the blow outward. Her staff slammed on the rooftop. Stepping forward, he closed the distance between them and struck at her chest with the palm of his hand.

Mau could work with this. If it was anything like sparring with her father, except this man wasn’t going to hold back to save her bruises and a potentially broken spine. Swiftly she thrust her staff back towards her chest, grimacing as she barely blocked the strike. Still, it pushed her back just enough where she feared that if she wasn’t careful, she’d tumble. That would be the only way of defeating this man, getting him over the edge. She pushed forward against him, forcing her staff upwards to hopefully crash into his jaw

Again, he shifted and leaned, the staff grazed his armor but struck air, dropping low he swept his leg against hers hoping to take them out from under her.

Mau cursed under her breath, realizing what his next move would be. She attempted to jump over his sweeping leg, being caught at the last moment. However she was able to raise her leg, striking at his face before she tumbled to her back. She grimaced, fumbling for her staff. If this man was to take her life, Naro would kill her. A fate worse than death would be death by hearing her father scolding her, saying he was right. She placed her feet flat on the roof, raising her staff upwards and striking over and over again. Once she got some space between them she’d be able to hop back to her feet. Hopefully.

Her foot connected with his face, and he growled as he took a step back. It gave her time to stand on her feet. This woman was a nuisance and needed to die quickly. Her blows came rapidly and, for the moment, it was all he could do just to dodge and deflect her attempts to strike him.

Suddenly, there was a tremor beneath his feet. The sound of a collapse preluded the sudden giving of the ground beneath him. He quickly backpedaled as he watched the roof give way beneath the woman’s feet. She disappeared just as he found solid footing on another building.

Mau grinned. She could see that she was starting to regain her rhythm, starting to break through his defenses and using his annoyance against him. No hits, still, but she could at least force him further and further towards the ledge. Her cockiness washed away from her face, however, as she felt the tremor beneath her feet. She didn’t have the time to push herself forward to the roof besides them, being swept away with the debris that tumbled to the earth below. Without her control, she shrieked, plummeting feet first to the ground. With what little time she had, she shifted herself in the air, knowing if she hit her head or her feet first she’d be dead or incapacitated.

Either way, she expected to hear the sweet, sweet voice of whatever god awaited her, telling her how she had been a foolish woman.
 
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Melia Ethelweard
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Melia raised an eyebrow upon the Oracle's answer. Whatever the Oracle tried to pass for an explanation fell short in many ways, the most obvious of which resulted in an immediate question. “Seals? What are you talking about?” Melia took threats to the Empress very serious, but this vague type of story didn't sit well with her. The fact that the Oracle used overly broad descriptions like 'these people' and 'their quest' didn't help either, especially not considering Melia hadn't been fond of the entire future-telling business from the get-go.

When the Oracle excused herself, Melia silently shook her head. Having come all the way here only to find a city under attack and to be spoken to in riddles by some fortune teller wasn't going to do it for her, so she called out to the nearest guard. “You! Who's in charge of this castle and who was meant to meet me here? I need to speak to either them.” With the current situation being what it was, she could fully understand the lack of a formal welcome committee awaiting her, but she really wanted to speak to someone that had at least a sliver of an idea of what was going on and that wouldn't talk in riddles.

The Oracle's words were still echoing through her mind, as there was one thing that was very plausible. The way this attack was organised was indeed very likely to be a smokescreen, as the amount of chaos that had irrupted was the ideal thing to utilise for getting your dirty deeds done. Whether this was about whatever those seals were or about something else entirely was unclear to her, as she heavily doubted this fortune-telling, but it was clear that the guard needed to be ready.

Her instincts as the Empress' guard kicked in. “This Oracle of yours is right in one way, at the very least. The attack puts up quite the smokescreen, so it won't hurt to check anything you want to keep protected, so that no one is abusing this situation to get away with crimes they otherwise wouldn't get away with. Also, if you want to quickly re-establish some semblance of order, I suggest sending small departments of guards to every major crossroad and plaza in the city. The more clearly present and organised the guards are, the quicker people will calm down. Besides, it's impossible for the enemy to have one large force if the chaos is spread this far through-out the city, which means a small group should be enough to take on whomever is causing this.”

She left dealing with wounded and previous 'party members' to Niki and Bronya. Furthermore, regardless of what the Oracle might've suggested, Melia didn't feel like she had a right to request even more aid from them. After all, they'd already gone above and beyond what'd been asked of them by getting her to this castle. Asking them to join some random journey on the suggestion of a fortune-teller felt like far too much of a stretch for her to consider it.
 
Dust rose against the brightening sky, filling the air with an acrid, musty odor, as the cacophonous clattering of the roof caving in settled into tense, stony silence. For a moment, the only sounds were far off, echoing in the distance, as both friend and foe stared at the wreckage. Leveraging around the dueling men, one hand jammed tight against her shoulder, Cordelia ran to the downed woman, skidding to her knees beside where she had crashed onto the docks.

"Easy does it, now… Let's get you on your feet."

"Behold, fools!" The words resonated within the hold of a powerful baritone, as the figure on the surviving rooftop took a step towards the edge, arms outstretched before him, "The power and might of Kairos!"

Pulling a small metal reed from his cloak, the man pressed it between his lips. There was a haunting hum… A single, dreadful note, caught on the breeze, then without warning, a deafening roar split the skies. Clapping her hands over her ears, Cordelia looked up in fixed horror at the sight of the massive winged beast, emerging through the sea of thick, black smoke overhead. From snout to tail the beast filled the dockyard, its leathery wings outstretched the length of the building over which it hovered. Thick, tar-black hide covered its form, scales glistening like oil sheen in the flames rising throughout the city. Claws, sharp and long as talons tipped each deadly appendage and spines ran the length of its spine. With a whip-like crack, its tail snapped against empty air and with a powerful flap of its wings, it descended onto the precarious roof ledge. The man on the roof, his mouth curling in a grin, gripped what appeared to be the workings of a leather saddle, prying himself up onto the beast's back.

"We have to run…" Cordelia urged, and giving the woman an indelicate tug upright, she looked back to the other, "Run!"

As she bolted forward, still clinging to the other woman's arm, the creature bent its mighty neck forward and opening its mouth, it spewed forth a cone of sputtering, white hot flame, engulfing the remaining buildings and the docks below.

As the wood of the dock caught swiftly, the creature gave two great swipes of its wings, flames stoked into a towering inferno as it rose up into the air. With another deep, bellowing roar, it twisted around and tore off, deeper into the city, landing mere moments later with a stone rending crack it slammed its clawed talons into the side of the city keep.

TAGS || All you folks
 
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Holt saw the flames that ravaged the port city. He had tried to regain an upper hand in the situation against what he thought were only arsonists, but now there was a dragon, and he barely had enough crew to load cannons, which were firing at the crumbling wreckage indiscriminately. The real captain, many of the senior staff, and those that went to form the search party were most assuredly dead.

The ship failed to live up to its name this day, even if the original purpose was to insult the figurative dragon, the King of Agrenna, who would in his infinite greed burn down lush rainforests and rolling hillsides, strip mine the land, and massacre entire cultures to sit on his pile of gold, war metals and valuable gems.

The merchant ships were far in the horizon by now. There was nothing to be salvaged here. All he had was a boot knife to fight with. The cannon fire eventually ceased, and a temporary hard silence descended on the docks. Holt's voice boomed as he issued the ones on the ship to lower the docking ramp. His lungs were powerful, learning to breathe greedily from his life as a galley slave. He shouted in rage and his throat screamed in pain.

"Board the ship!" he repeated, pointing at the docking ramp for the few he could see. If there were any stragglers, he would clasp them on the shoulders, hoist them up, and throw them to the ramp, where the remaining few of his crew would grab and pull them the remaining way.
 
Collaboration post with: @Esper
Mentioned: @Elvario , the Oracle


After exhausting the supplies of the keep down to a reasonable level to help the injured she offered comfort to the concerned parties who came with them, feeling the connecting life force as it neared her. Surely it would not hurt to try the same trick a few times? So she did so, the gears giving a subtle turn in her mind. Did empathetic energy really heal others? One of the concerned parties who was already injured did pass out. Perhaps there was a limit to empathy or that it really did take in order to give. That seemed like a load of mess to her, but she had seen stranger things perhaps? Medicine was weird and hard. That’s why she took to the woods and left the doctoring to her mother. It was then that she noticed the words Melia and the Oracle shared and she looked to Bron with a subtle head gesture toward it and a certain facial expression asking for her lover’s thoughts on the matter.

Bronya looked up at Niki from where she was checking over her equipment for any damage incurred on the journey she hadn’t noticed while they were still on the road, nodding slightly in acknowledgement of the Oracle’s words. Moving closer, she rubs at one temple in frustration. “She appears to be someone of rank...we might be able to name whatever price we wish if she is so desperate for us specifically. But also, getting tangled up in...whatever this is seems not worth any amount of gold or title.” She says chewing on her lower lip. “Gods, I just want a fucking bath.” She says with a long, tired sigh.

“Think we can get a bath before we depart? Road rash is no good for the road, especially for guards you want to remain alert and at their best.” Her eyes scanned the keep, hoping for a readied bath, but knowing she wouldn’t find one. “Curse our noble hearts. We could have been at that spring in the woods we found, not a morning or afternoon’s walk outside of the city.”

She snorts. “Less noble, more thinking that we didn’t want people saying we didn’t complete jobs we started and getting squeamish about hiring us.” Running a leather gauntlet covered hand through her short hair, she looks around the keep at chaos enveloping it, and then over at where the Oracle was standing. ”Might as well hear her out I guess? We aren’t actively being attacked at the moment, so we can afford a few minutes.”

“You’re right, I think. We aren’t hired for the moment either, but consider something else. If this is the tip of the iceberg we can take some time off, shop around and get into some sort of intelligence position after a bath. We’re well traveled, have good maps, cartographer connections and can demand our own price. So I propose if the price doesn’t sound fair to us we find a better one. Let’s go talk.”

Niki got up and approached Melia and the Oracle. “Given our job presently completed and our pay having been rendered in advance for escort to the city, save for additionally bringing you to the keep, further duties would need to be formalized. Additionally if a bath was available as part of those terms, pre-departure, warm and private for roughly half a bell we would consider Dame Melia’s debt null and void for escort to the keep.”

Bronya follows Niki and stands behind her, trying to look imposing as she nods in agreement with the requests. ”Additionally, we would like to know why you are so interested in us two specifically. Did something about our work with Dame Melia make us of interest to you?”
 
It was a miracle Mau was able to open her eyes after the collapse. Pain shot through her hips. She had landed, alright, in the position she was hoping for, rear first. She had also surfed alongside the debris until she was tossed off the last roof shingle. The fall had stung, pain so blinding that, for a moment, all she could see and savor was a bright white light. Her body slumped against the shambles of a splintering board. Her foot had been twisted at an angle, and her hips would no longer be suitable for child rearing, but she was alive. That didn't feel like a very fair trade off...didn't it? Papa is going to butcher me..

Eyes clenched, Mau whimpered with the washing pain that flashed through her senses. Walk it off, Naro child. Didn't papa tell you of the time a creature burrowed its teeth into his ribs and snatched a chunk of skin? Or the man who nearly lit himself a blaze after mishandling the preparation of meat? This is nothing. Just get up and walk it off...

"Easy does it, now… Let's get you on your feet." Words bustled against Mau's ears. Did...did she hear that right? The lid of her eye twitched before she was able to muster enough strength to peel it open, hoping to get a quick glimpse of her hopeful savior.

"Angel?" Mau pondered. "Perhaps I did pass..." She offered the woman a dazed, dreamy smile. "Wait..." Her words slurred together as the woman bundled Mau against her, propping the woman to stand. She could feel every bone in her body pop. She winced as she balanced her weight onto one foot. Remarkably, she had maintained such a firm grip on her staff during the fall, that it remained. The latched fingers refused to uncurl from the staff, forever fused to the wood from which it was made. She rested it on the ground, using the woman's weight and the leverage of the staff to support herself.

That man I fought...I hear him. He's...on the verge of a monologue. Perhaps I did pass and I am not in the land of the blessed-

Mau's knees nealy buckled beneath her, the hum droning so wickedly through the air that Mau's senses could only latch to that one sound. She could taste, hear, and feel the intensity of the melody, copper coating her tongue and goosebumps bubbling against her flesh. Peering through slitted eyes, she identified the creature the malicious sound called for. Daemons would cower before this creature, dark as the starless sky and with eyes as vicious as a wolf starved and forgotten.

"How cruel..." She mused to herself as she was tugged, far more intrigued by the creature than intimidated. "That I will not die by a simple fall, but to be shredded by monstrous teeth-" With a squeak and a last tug, Mau was able to limp along side her rescuer, propelling herself forward with her staff. Mau watched with horror as the creature barrelled into the city.

"Naro..." she whispered, praying to which ever deity that wished to listen to her, that he would find shelter and come out unscathed. He had to. He was a survivor. Mau swallowed, bitterness swallowing her tongue whole. Her attention was quickly centered at the fellow calling for them to come to the ship. "Patience dear!" She called, pushing herself forward once more, hobbling with ferocity into the safety of the vessel. Her eyes darted back towards the woman who had so generously awoken her from what should have been an eternal nap. She grasped her hands in hers, squeezing.

"I owe myself to you, dear friend, your kindness will not be forgotten." She pressed her thumb to the woman's forehead, humming, sealing the promise before letting her hands swing at her sides.
 


~Rodent~

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<~~<>~~>​
Several double-handed kisses she blew to those gathered before her. With much vigour and enthusiasm did she dole them out. A grin shone from ear to ear from that earnest face as the cheers and applause continued to echo throughout the location. Normally she would have shone them on by leaping off the stage (the stage in this case being the wooden box of her disguise kit), tucking in her knees and doing a forward somersault. But Rodent was no where near any condition to pull off such a stunt. Hopping off and falling to a single knee while covering her eyes in the crook of her elbow of one arm whilst the other arm shot off in a diagonal, hand aimed at the ceiling would have to suffice.

The little ones rushed her and the beating of her heart took off high up into the skies. Adoration and enthusiasm was what she had lived and broke her body for once upon a time. And even to this day, the electricity that ran from tippie of nose to tips of toes was still as welcome and delicious as day one. Moved nearly to tears was the short girl, however, the throbbing at her temple and pain above her brow kept her in the here and now; the pain was the reminder of the deadly reality of the situation.

But the situation would not pull her down, raise the light of Athos, this was her reality right here and right now. "Heroes pose, Angels fly..." she whispered beneath her breath as she took on the full brunt of the hugs and squeals of the collected children that had rushed her. How many more moments such as these did she have left? Into her pack she went and retrieved the rest of the puppets and untied them from their restrictive harness.

This was her reality and it was the reality of these poor little younglings and babes. Lost, scared and abandoned whether by choice or no, they were on their own now. It was time to let go. Each puppet had a signifcant place in her heart and a meaning to them. With each one she bestowed to a youngling, she called out the puppet's name, and with each name she called out, another small piece of her faded into the shadows. These fuzzy and stitched together things were not merely props. These puppets were the labours of love made by each and every single one of her Angel sisters. Each name she called was another bitter yet fond farewell right up to the final one. Empty handed now, her pale fingers closed in and trembling fists lay at her sides.

The stinging at her nose, the burning at her eyes, she resisted. She had no right to spill tears now. Rodent strained to maintain her composure with every smile and kiss she donned the children as they scampered away, over-joyed with their new momentary treasures, but every smile and kiss was genuine nonetheless. Even as she stood there by her lonesome and collected her gear up off the cold stony floor, she would not cry. She had no right.

She was Rodent now and forevermore. She had been given but only one job; stay with Sister Charming. She never made it to the boat to meet with Oleander and reconvene with Charming as she had vowed. She had failed to redeem herself as an Angel Sister and so now, Sister Radiant was no more. And so to the Darkness she turned to meet her fate.

<~~>​

An extended sigh she let out, deflated by this predicament yet again. Here were the guards coming at her with a hardened look in their eyes. Undoubtedly they were about to hit her up with some trumped up charges; performing fun for children in a no-performing-fun-for-children-zone or some other such nonsense. Bah, so be it, she was rather done with this day at any rate.

Her knees were shaky, her head throbbed and her vision yet again began to waver. The shadows in this place seemed a little too lively, a little too much like they danced to the beat of her heart. To her surprise, her heart was no longer racing. It was thudding along to a lovely cadence, and it was only then that she realized it was her heart that danced to the rhythm of the swooning and swaying of the shadows and not the other way around. She loved the way their whispery forms would look a certain way, merge with the dark, only to re-emerge as another loverly shape.

Big green eyes popped open even bigger as she noted that someone was currently speaking to her. Slowly and steadily she raised her chin to meet the gaze of the red-stained, flowy dressed woman that claimed the name of 'Oracle.' Once more, in her mind, she scoffed; those eyes were not anything like the spooky gaslight blues of the real Oracl--

"But wait wut now and wait yet again...!" she blurted out, facial features just as skewed as her thoughts right now, "how can ye know me name as such...?"

And immediately thereafter, a lone eyebrow raised and little lips pursed together. This had to be a ruse... it just had to be. The statement of this 'Oracle,' this... 'Never-ye' or whatever she called herself, just smacked of stranger-danger. Even as a wee girlie she was taught that if anyone said; "Oh, but c'mere, lass! Needs yer help do I! Fear y'Sister be in all sorts o' troubles!!' then you do not just take their hand and carry on happily, off you go with the stranger to 'rescue' your Sisters!

Her head hurt, she was quite upset and distraught, yet worst of all, failure kept whispering at her ear that she was still a failure. And so now the rarest of sneers and scowls stamped down upon that young, pale face.

"Oh, ho, ho...! 'Help and horrible hap'nins...' Says ye with smiles, Lady... Lady 'Nervy-yeahs..?' Well, shot and bonked already has this lass been," Rodent tugged on the cloth that bandaged her head for emphasis, "so pleadin' mercies ye best excuse the tone and temper. But ye act as if ye knows me, yet never met ye inna' once ever has this lass! So! Pleadin' y'express in fullest; do tell how ye expect Rodent to trust in Lady Oracle... and hah! Truly, and for what and how can this here wee smidgen o' lass help with these horrible hap'nins...?!"

<~~<>~~>​


 
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Lee, the Warpriest
The clashing of metal was something akin to a lullaby for Lee, a familiar sound that he would nevertheless only like to look back to, fondly, one day. Yet this was not that day.

As his sword slid along the edge of an enemy's sword, he extended his shield-baring arm and thrust the large, steel-reinforced tip of his shield straight into his opponent's abdomen. The man instantly folded with a groan, falling to his knees, while Lee flowed into a spin, readjusting his sword to swing down and straight through the man's collarbone. The man let out a squeak as Lee swiftly removed his sword, the whole blade caked in blood, either fresh or in the process of drying.

All around Lee laid the bodies of the assailants that had come for his head, their cloaks now only serving as a tool to cover their faces frozen by the cold stare of death. The moment his eyes had zoomed into the first enemy, Lee had dropped all other distractions, an old habit of his that used to get him into trouble with ambushes from ranged attackers.

Fortunately these men seemed to prefer a good old melee. "They want my head, heh." He'd mused at one point, seeing the irony at how the events had unfurled. That guy he'd used as bait had definitely something to do with their leader, or they wouldn't have become so ferocious and direct in their approach.

---

Just as he was finishing another enemy, he suddenly heard a loud, cracking sound coming from above one of the buildings. He looked up, only to see the roof of the building literally coming down, raining clay tiles all over the place. With a burst of speed fueled by adrenaline, Lee bolted closer to the center of the plaza and away from the collapsing buildings, much to the screams and curses of the remaining enemies.

Panting from the exertion, Lee supported himself on his knees as he took several precious seconds to regain his breath. He offered a silent prayer to the Lord of Light, both for him and the people he had come to the rescue of.
"Speaking of which..."

"Behold, fools! The power and might of Kairos!"

A sudden voice broke his train of thoughts, his attention snapping back towards the now ruined buildings. At what seemed to be the only relatively stable building still remaining, the same man that he'd provoked earlier was now standing, fiddling with something. Lee watched the man bring the item to his mouth and make one of the most... unpleasant sounds he'd ever heard. Like a shrill cry had fused with a thunderclap, the sound assaulted his ears even after he'd covered them with his hands. However, that would have been only the second worst sound he'd ever hear that day.

Lee could count with one hand the times he'd heard the roar of the foul beast that emerged afterwards, and all of those times he'd been equally gripped with fear as he was at that moment. Dragons were a disaster, capable of completely annihilating whole cities without any preparations against them, and now one of them had seemingly been summoned inside the capital of Drakos.

Once again, the knight found himself running away. Much to his shame, but Lee could not fight a dragon head on, alone. He didn't even think an army could fight one and come out victorious. At the back of his mind, the fate of those he tried to save weighed on him; where were they? Had they escaped to safety? On the docks, just one ship had remained, just now having stopped it's barrage of cannon fire. He noticed the draconic figure-head carved on the ship's bow and smirked at the irony. "Escaping from one dragon only to fall into the clutch of another."


Nevertheless, he buried the thought in his mind and ran. He had done as much as he could for those people, but now he had to save himself. He had to survive. There were two people that still needed saving, two people that needed him the most. Without even looking back, he ran towards the remaining ship, just as dragon's breath razed everything behind him.