• Open • [Hadrana, Kephallonia, Helice] Clean up crew

[Varthakh]

38th of Ashan 719

Steadily, the great, pale Sohr Khal Came to perch upon a rise in the thick rainforest that surrounded the spiked, wooden walls of Hadrana, the island's capital. The climate was hot, humid and heavy. Breathing was hard for those who weren't accustomed to the weather. From the rise, they could look beyond the foliage and see only some of the chaos unfolding. There were two ships in the ocean just beyond the sandy beaches of Kephallonia, and one of which was ablaze with a great red fire. The plumes of smoke that Dosan had seen were not the plight of the villagers, no, they were the burning corpses of fallen members of the guild of industry, which littered the town and beach. The intact ship was barely manned with only a dozen or so crew members holding down the fort. Between that ship and the island was a rowboat of mercenaries, retreating the scene of the attack.

The war cries of Lotharren men and humans, coupled with the violent hissing of Ithecal could be heard just beyond the walls. The screams and wails of Quacians could also be heard along with Vahanic cursing. Whatever the trio had been expecting was thrown out the window, as it turned out that the Kephallonians were destroying the guild of industry. As the three stared at the scene, the screech of a flaming fireball being catapulted from beyond the walls was heard, and they would be able to watch the destructive force fly, then crash in the waters beside the one ship that wasn't burning. '

From the burning ship, the three could see a few men, engulfed in flame, jumping from the deck and into the blue water. It was a massacre.

"Right," Fridgar echoed through their draconic form. "And to think we were worried that the Kephallonians would have been defeated by now... It almost feels silly in hindsight," they said with a rolling squawk that imitated laughter. "Kaelrik, we need to stop their catapult from destroying the ship while also putting any of the remaining guild members to death. Dosan, we need you to get on that ship to kill all the remaining crewmen. We can fly you over if you need." They looked to Kaelrik, wherever he was. "We trust you'll be fine until we can come to your side? Just make sure that the Islanders know you're an ally, we wouldn't want them to think you're a guild fighter."

Perhaps it was for the best that Fridgar hadn't formulated any real strategy prior to seeing the battlefield. After all, they'd all expected the guild to have massacred the Kephallonians, but the fight had gone a far different direction. A pre-formulated plan would have failed and left them stumped. All that was left to do now was to adapt to the new information and execute their plan. Secure the last remaining ship and establish that they were allies with the Islanders. A stray thought crossed their mind then, and they looked to the Defier. "...Do you think perhaps that you can put out that fire?" they asked as they looked to the burning ship. "Then again, do you think there's anything salvageable of that ship?"

The Sohr Khal shook their head. "No, too much time. They'll be done fighting before we can work that out. We'll just have to save the last one and mop up the last of them."

[Kaelrik]

The battlefield that stretched out before him was not at all what Kaelrik had been expecting. The way that Fridgar had painted the picture, Kaelrik had been anticipating that the islanders were rather incapable of fending off an attack from the Guild of Raw Materials. Such was not the case. Seeing the Quacian attackers be routed the way that they were had the Lotharro quirking an eyebrow. There was a ruthlessness to the way that the Kephallonian’s were decimating their assailers. It wasn’t altogether dissimilar to the brutal efficiency that the Lotharen Hordes applied when dealing with assaults against the city of Uthaldria. As Fridgar perched on the cliff, Kaelrik surveyed the battlefield. He hopped down from the back of the mighty Sohr Khal. At his hip was his sword. He was garbed in the leather armor that he’d carried with him since leaving the Blood Pits of Quacia. His right arm was bare, allowing him to wield his magic and enter a fight without fear of burning up his vestments.

“I will be fine. It doesn’t look like there’s altogether much left for us to intervene with. These Kephallonians seem to have things well in hand.” He eyed a man who was screaming and flailing as his flesh was burned until the man jumped into the waves. Kaelrik’s gaze hardened. The salt of the ocean and the grievous nature of burn wounds would make for an unpleasant and infectious end for that man unless he was treated. But that was not why they were there. The Guild of Raw Materials had sailed to the island with the intent to enslave its residents from what Kaelrik understood. That was not something that the Lotharro, a former slave himself, could abide by. He rest a hand on the pommel of his sword before eyeing the burning ship that Fridgar was referring to. Kaelrik shook his head.

“It’s best to let that ship burn and sink. There’s no salvaging it at this point. I could dampen the fires as easily as breathing but there is little point. The waves will quench them soon enough.” He glanced at Fridgar and then cast his gaze about for Dosan.

“You two had best be off then. I imagine the Kephallonian’s will aim to sink the other ship very soon.” With that, Kaelrik focused his gaze on the field of battle in front of him. The distance between himself and the group of Quacian troops was just nearing one-hundred feet. In his right hand, Kaelrik began to gather the winds to him. He coaxed them gradually into compressing. With a tightening of his fist he caused the winds around his hand to grow dense and they began to whip and spiral with a growing ferocity. With his left hand, Kaelrik cut open the fabric of space in front of him. From one breath to the next, the Lotharro blinked from the top of the rise and roughly fifteen feet away from the group of soldiers.

As soon as he appeared, the guild soldiers shouted in alarm and menace. With a wave of his hand, Kaelrik released the compressed air that he’d gathered around his right arm. It swept before him in a wide arc. Gale force winds blasted several of the men off their feet sending them hurtling backwards before crashing to the ground a considerable distance away from the Lotharro. Only the most stalwart of the group managed to not be thrown back by the blast resulting in them simply being flattened onto the ground. Three men remained in front of Kaelrik. They were armored with reinforced leather much like he was. Drawing his sword, Kaelrik brought it up in front of him grasping the hilt with both hands. As the blade traveled through the air, fire blazed to life along the Lotharro’s right arm. Tendrils of flame ghosted across the surface of the blade, wrapping around it in a burning Caress.

With the flames of his wrath burning in his eyes, Kaelrik bared the sharp fangs of his teeth causing one of the men to stumble back at the inhuman sight. The Lotharro wasted no more time. He sprinted forward, swinging his blade so that steel could meet steel.

The battle had begun and Kaelrik reveled in it.

[Nasod]

蛇 Clean up crew

蛇 38th of Ashan 719

蛇 Theme: Kodo

蛇 Thoughts: Spill their blood!

蛇

The

moment his feet touched the beach he quickly unsheathed his longsword, looking to see who he could kill first. The tide seemed to have turned on the quacian attackers and had them running for the boats. Dosan wasn't going to get here just for his fun to leave with their non-existent tails between their legs.

No, that wouldn't do at all, and his body began to shift, to morph and shrink into something small, and fluffy. In a matter of agonizing moments, he had shifted into his blood bat totem. Flapping his down to where his sword was he used his reptilian tail and the stickiness of it to grip and hold onto his the sheath of the weapon.

When hearing what was asked of him, he laughed with a squeak of the bat form he was in.

"I'll paint the boat red with their blood for sure!"

he echoed, making his way to the boats, not even waiting for Frid to take him over. No, he wouldn't wait, he had an insatiable need now to hunt them, hunt the enemies of Frid and spill their blood.

All he had to do was get to the boat, and once he did, he had to find the best way to sneak on board and let the blood bath begin. after flying for what felt like an eternity Dosan finally made it to the ship, watching as the quacians aboard scrambling to retreat. Finding that a height advantage was always better than coming in on the ground, he found the highest art his little wings to flap too. Once there he landed and shifted back into his human form.

In a low crouch, he watched from atop one of the cabins waiting for the best moment to spring into action.

"Common Speech"

,

"Vahanic Speech"

, "NPC"

[Varthakh]

It was agreed then, Kaelrik would stop the Catapult and mop up the rest of the Quacians within the village while Dosan did some interior decorating with people's interiors on the ship. Of course, Dosan had his own airborne form and didn't need Fridgar's help, which they had forgotten. They left him to it with a respectful nod of their head. Meanwhile, Fridgar... What was Fridgar doing? They looked out to the beach as it stretched onward with their black and red eyes, but it was all a blur. As Kaelrik and Dosan took off to complete their tasks, they disappeared from their range of detailed view quite quickly, and the Sohr Khal was left in a blurry wasteland of edgeless shapes and colors. They hated seeing, admittedly, and the Sohr Khal was growing tired. They had been in that form since early that morning. So, they decided to give the old wings a rest and took the form of the giant, pale Lothar. With a deep sigh, they rolled their shoulders and kept their eyes closed while the cloth of their blindfold manifest beneath their skull mask, all their totems grew over their form in the forms of various trinkets and dangling figurines.

They were dressed for war, as they had been when they first transformed into the Sohr Khal with Kaelrik, apt for what was about to unfold. They drew both their war axes from their domain bag, one made of embersteel, good quality, the other average steel. While they gathered themselves, they pressed the point of their axe to each individual body part and applied a rune of speed on either leg, a rune of speed on either arm, a rune of speed on their torso and a rune of touch on their head, granting them insane speed and the ability to feel for vibrations and sounds and determine their directions. With their prowess in meditation, they cleared their mind of all thought beside the identification of Mercenary and Helian warriors with their combat prowess and entered a flow state in which all their body's resources and attention were devoted to the tasks at hand, granting them increased prowess and reflexes.

Then, like a blur, they shot out across the beach with a streak of darkness following behind them like a trail. The beat of a heart crept into their range of motion sensing as they flew across the beach, a floored, dying Quacian. In the blink of an eye, Fridgar had severed their head and was still rushing across the beach.

A Vahanic scream echoed from toward the sea and they darted toward it without pause. By the scent, it was a Quacian, so they executed him with a quick hack across the nape of his neck and darted toward the walls, where the thudding footsteps of running could be heard. All around them, the motions of flying sand grains all around them almost threw off their detection, but as skilled as they were, they managed just fine to identify the sources of sounds and heartbeats, then darted to them one by one and slaughtered them without a fight, without a struggle, and without prejudice. They appeared as a storming cloud of sand that burst in various intensities across the stretch of the beach. Sand which clogged the eyes and mouths of guild members and mercenaries, Fridgar was protected against.

When a particularly large group of men ran from the grates screaming Vahanic curses and pleas of mercy, Fridgar darted to them and painted themselves in their life force in a flurry of slashes and lopped off limbs that left all the men crippled and/or dead before even one of them hit the floor. Within the gate was a group of warriors, tensed, aggressive, bearing more crude weapons made of embersteel and wood, like shields and spears... things that would be far too expensive for the guild to possess, Fridgar recognized them as Helians, particularly because they shared the scent of the island, which the mercenaries did not. Without the thought of talking to them, Fridgar rushed off in search of more mercenaries to kill, as was the byproduct of their flow state.

When the cloud of sand cleared from the Hadranian's prey, they found only a pile of destroyed and torn bodies. Ahead was a raging pillar of sand which moved like a blur, then engulfed the attackers one at a time and left them in pieces on the sand.

[Kaelrik]

Kaelrik deflected the sword blow of one of the mercenaries that he was engaged with. The ring of steel sliding against steel filled his ears before he kicked out with his leg, catching the man’s knee. The mercenary yelped in pain before Kaelrik impaled him with his burning sword. He was yanking his blade out when a sheet of fire materialized from the flames wrapped around his right arm. The second mercury he’d been engaged with cried out in pain and then began stumbling back as everything that was flammable on his body, caught fire. Kaelrik’s kin element asserted itself protectively, aggressively flowing over the man as he began screaming in blistering agony. Kaelrik turned to face the remaining soldier from the group he’d been fighting. The man dropped his sword with his hands raised. Kaelrik’s eyes narrowed taking a step toward him. The soldier stumbled back falling onto his rear in the sand. His helmet came flying off and it brought Kaelrik to a stop.

“Please! Don't kill me!” Kaelrik studied the man, young man as it were, in front of him. He couldn’t have been much older than Kaelrik himself. Perhaps a few arcs younger. The Lotharro took a step forward, the fire wrapped around his sword reflecting in his eyes. The young man scrambled back.

“Please! I surrender! I-I was just trying to do something to better my life!” Kaelrik halted. His brow furrowed. From the terror in the young man’s eyes and the shaking in his form, Kaelrik knew he was telling the truth. How many promises had been made to this boy? What had the Guild of Raw Materials told him about Helice? What lies had been poured into his ears? It made the Lotharro cast his gaze across the battlefield to witness a truly horrifying and terrifying sight.

Fridgar had entered the fray.

His kinsman was a blur. A storm of dust and death wrapped in a cloak of darkness. Everywhere his fellow Lothar went, gore and short-lived screams followed. Kaelrik found himself troubled by the sight. He looked to the man rolling on the ground, moaning in pain as the fires on his body died down, extinguished by the dirt. The soldier who was already dead and bleeding out on the sands. Then his gaze fell upon the young man who was staring terrified in the direction of Fridgar where naught but flying body parts and debris could be found. Kaelrik made a decision then. He prayed to Thetros he wouldn’t regret it. Stepping forward he reached for the young man who flailed and cried out in fear. Kaelrik ignored him. With his sword, Kaelrik cut open the fabric of space in front of him creating a blinking portal. He jumped through it, holding on to the young man as he dragged him forward through it alongside him.
Kaelrik opened another portal as soon as he stepped out of his first until he reached past the tree line on the beach. Once there, Kaelrik released the young man and shoved him forward. The Lotharro felt sweat on his brow. Traveling through portals by himself was one thing, bringing another with him was quite another. His chest rose and fell with deeper breaths as though he’d been running a marathon.

“Go. Get rid of your armor. Find a town. Appear a lost villager. Find somewhere. Far from here.” The young man stared at Kaelrik. The Lothar didn’t waste any more time or breath. He turned.

“Wait!” Kaelrik paused. He glanced over his shoulder. “Th-thank you.”

Kaelrik blinked once more, returning to the field of battle. The boy would live or die of his own merit. In his heart however, Kaelrik hoped the young man lived. The Lotharro surveyed the beach. Fridgar had left a path of blood and gore in his wake and little else. There were still stragglers on the beach however. Perhaps, like the boy, they had lost the will to fight.

Kaelrik hoped so.

[Nasod]

蛇 Clean up crew

蛇 38th of Ashan 719

蛇 Theme: Kodo

蛇 Thoughts: Spill their blood!

蛇

As

viper watched the men scramble about he got restless, and slithered from where he had perched himself. Sticking to the shadows he used the confusion and panic to slip by most men, looking for the one person who was the most important. He was tasked with clearing the ship of its inhabitants, but that didnt mean he couldnt take his time in doing so.

There was an officer at the bow of the ship barking orders to everyone, trying to get them as far from these shores as possible. Using his adhering limbs, Dosan scaled the side of the boat, using his senses to determine where the officer was. Once behind him, etched the Mark of Prowess into his forehead, then went into action.

His tail came up beside the viper, holding the Longsword which he named Shadow Talon, up for him to unsheath. Slowly, not to alarm his prey he drew the blade, then leaped up and over, driving the blade right through the man's throat mid-order. The sound alone caught the attention of everyone aboard the deck of the ship, a good 10 soldiers.

Removing the blade he licked the fresh blood from it, then turned his venomous gaze upon those on the deck. Stepping over the bleeding body he looked at them all, inhaling their fear, as the sound of a man choking on his own blood echoed in the background. Stretching his legs he got into a fighting stance, sheathing the blade.

it was silent for a moment, but the viper was looking for a certain sound, one of movement. The soldiers on the deck were scared, seeing how this naked male just jumped onto their boat and killed one of their officers with relative ease, given it was a sneak attack. The moment one took a step back, making a creek on the wooden floorboard the viper dashed right for him.

The sounds of blades being ripped from their scabbards sounded the air, and the battle began. Dosan rushed in, sliding between the first two, slashing at their legs with the curved longsword. Though his skill with the blade was crude, his knowledge wasn't. It was like wielding Blood Fang, the only difference being that this sword had more reach than the short sword.

Knowing that he was able to wield it all the same. As he dealt with the two that he brought to the ground one attacked from behind and sensing the malice from the attack he sent his tail forth, gripping the soldier by the helm. Rising the grip of tail tightened naturally as if the boa constrictor echo was already active, crushing the man's skull within the helmet he wore.

Three down seven to go, and then he could move below deck.

"Who's next, who's ready to meet the Wounded God?"

He said going full sprint toward the remaining ones. Once he was 10 feet in front of one he lunged at him, appearing at his left side. As he slid to a quick stop he pivoted to turn so he was facing behind him, driving his blade right into the man's back, slicing through him and out of his right side.

"One"

he hissed menacingly as he charged the others.

Two of the soldiers charged at him as well in which he deflected the blade of the first one, and pounced on the other, slitting his throat upon landing on the wooden deck. The other came in for an attack and Dosan rolled out the way, just enough to catch the soldier in his side, burying his blade there.

"Two and three"

he counted as two more came at him.

They tried their best to overwhelm him with slashes and swipes of their weapons, but the viper was just as agile as them and was keeping up, laughing all the while. He was having fun watching them struggle. All three warriors locked blades but Dosan had the advantage. Using his tail he grabbed one of them by their ankle, and the surprise left the other open for the viper to drive his blade across his neck, taking his head with it.

The man he held up by the ankle was swearing and flailing his sword around trying to cut himself free from the prehensile appendage, but to no avail. Dosan watched happily as he tossed the warrior back and forth like a rag doll, smashing him along the deck.

Amidst his pleasure he found sharp pain burning just under his left shoulder blade and scales, looking back at the source with a glare that could kill. Of the few remaining warriors on the deck, one came and speared Dosan in the shoulder, which pissed him off, but he could only smile as he let the pummeled mess of flesh go with his tail, and immediately gripped the spear with his appendage.

Using that boa constrictor coiling strength, his tail wrapped around the weapon till it snapped under the pressure. Standing to his feet he lunged and imbedded Shadow Talon within the spearman's chest.

"Four, five, & six"

he hissed, tilting his head to look at the final remaining warrior.

He found this one cowering near the edge of the bow and approached. The man begged for his life and Dosan laughed, taking the man by the face. With a wicked grin, he snapped the man's neck. Standing he looked at the scene before him, proud of his work. Now came the more fun part, as there were more below deck for him to kill. So many lives to end and all the time in the world to do so.

"Seven"

he hissed with a devious smile.

The viper found he could get used to battles like this. 蛇

"Common Speech"

,

"Vahanic Speech"

, "NPC"

Mark of Prowess

A slash in the shape of a cosmic star identifies the Mark of Prowess. Believed to be a fleshy sigil which allows the Wounded God to funnel power into the person who possesses it, the Mark of Prowess supposedly grants a greater degree of skill and ability to its user. Typically, this increase in skill exerts itself in a martial competence, though it may also apply to less violent works such as artistic pursuits or craftsmanship.

[Varthakh]

Once the beach was stained red with the soaked blood of humans, Fridgar slowed to a halt and rolled their shoulders. There were a few stragglers left, though they were stranded. Most of the fight was going on beyond the walls now, where the Kephallonian's were catapulting from. They needed to get beyond the wall to exterminate the last of them. Hopefully, Kaelrik had stopped the catapult by now.

Their hopes were put to death when the sound of the catapult cranking sounded from within Hadrana's walls, followed by the whistling of a projectile. It was burning coals, and the scent was something they took note of. The Lothar bared their teeth beneath their mask. Had something happened to the Kaelrik? Was there a reason he hadn't completed the task they gave him? Hopefully, Dosan would know to abandon the task he was given as the hurtling fireball flew toward the ship he was fighting upon.

With a blast of lightning to the ground, Fridgar hurtled themselves over the spiked, wooden walls and landed on the other side. They had to find the catapult and stop it before Dosan wound up dead. They took a brief sniff of the air in an attempt to locate the burning coals when they felt footsteps approach, then a beating heart entered their range of motion. The person's scent carried the stale saltwater smell that they recognized as one of the sailors, so when he swung his hammer at Fridgar, they lopped through his handle with their embersteel war ax, quick as a flash, then kneeled and cut through his thigh all the way with their steel one.

When he hit the floor, they put their heel through his skull before he could even scream.

Another source of motion caught up to them, though this one smelled different. They were cleaner than most people they met, likely due to the lack of populace on the island and good access to water and food. This was a Kephallonian. The man shouted something at them in vahanic, another Lothar. His stance was aggressive, wielding a spear and a long shield of some kind.

Fridgar flicked their ax, spraying the sand with the dead man's blood, then carefully reached toward their eyes. There, they lifted their skull headdress to show their pale face, complete with a blindfold. The man shouted again, and Fridgar paused, then pulled down their blindfold and squinted. Their heightened senses slowly receded, and they were left in their near-blindness. The man was close enough for them to see, but most of the world wasn't. Everything beyond the warrior was a blur.

"Common?" Fridgar asked. The man shouted back in Vahanic. Fantastic. This wasn't going to be quite as simple as telling him that they were an ally. They had no time to deal with him in truth, so they had safely subdue him and proceed to the Catapult. But how? They focused their eyes on the air around him, then clawed at it with their rupturing, the threat of ripping open a portal. The result was a loud, deafening roar, that of an opening portal. Their eyes gleamed a thirsty blood red as they did, and the sound brought the Kephallonian to his knees. They continued to roar with the air until the man himself screamed, then halted.

They left him there and proceeded deeper into the village. Occasionally, a sailor or mercenary ran by them just a little too close, and Fridgar's ax would bring them to the floor, bloodied or dead. They were following the scent of the coals while hoping to find Kaelrik face down and dead in the sand.

Once they were there, they beheld the catapult, being manned by four Lothar. They were about to fire it again when they cast roar on the air around them. At once, they stopped what they were doing and the atmosphere itself rippled and reverberated with the tension of a portal that never appeared. Once they were all kneeling or screaming, Fridgar relented.

"Stop that now," they said with a snarl. Three of the men drew their weapons when an Ithecal called to them in vahanic with an arm raised, asking them to stay their aggression perhaps? The Ithecal turned to them, and Fridgar lifted their blindfold over their eyes. "Common?" The Ithecal asked. Fridgar nodded, and the Ithecal relayed the information to the others. They lifted their skull mask back over their head. "We have a man securing that ship for you, that won't be possible if you light it up." The ithecal looked confused for a moment, then looked to the others a glance before looking back at Fridgar. "Eh?"

Fridgar sighed exasperatedly, then lifted their ax to point at the catapult. "No shoot," they said with a shake of their head. "No." The ithecal gave on "Ooooh," of understanding, then spoke to the others in their tongue. The four exchanged conversation for a moment or two when Fridgar detected motion heading at them from behind, a knife, very fast. Fridgar still had all their runes of speed active with incredible reflexes, so they turned and deflected the projectile, then dove and cut another knife out of the air before it could land its mark on one of the catapult workers.

There was unanimous awe among them, and they soon agreed not to fire the catapult anymore when the Ithecal turned back to them with an "Ok." Once they believed the catapult to be out of commission they nodded their thanks then dashed for the source of the thrown knives. They soon found the mercenary in question, a woman. Indiscriminately, they slaughtered her like any other of their foes; with brutal efficiency.

Most of the invading Quacian's on the beach were now either fleeing or dead, very few still fought. Most of the fighting was still raging within the walls of Hadrana and the catapult was out of commission. They could only wonder how Kaelrik and Dosan were doing.

[Kaelrik]

Kaelrik stood on the beaches of Kephallonia beyond the walls of Hadrana. He stared up at the skies watching as another burning ball of fire was sent careening through the air toward the remaining battleship. He cast a glance around him. The soldiers from the Guild of Raw Materials were either fleeing or dead. In a way he pitied them. Quacia didn’t have much in the way of able men and women. To see so many of them routed brought him a visceral level of satisfaction in some ways. For seasons, for nearly an entire arc, Kaelrik had been subjected to the miseries of Quacia. He had little pity for the majority of their mortal refuse but on some level he still felt the need to show restraint. Even against a people he did not care for.

The sound of the catapult drew his attention once more. Kaelrik looked to the skies and frowned. Sheathing his sword he sliced through the air with his hand opening a portal. Stepping through it he appeared in the path of the fireball released by the catapult. Reaching up, Kaelrik summoned the power of his Defiance. He could feel the hot coals of the fireball. The burning flames wrapped around the blazing sphere of rock and minerals was just as easily manipulated by him as any other raw element. Raising a hand, Kaelrik reached out taking hold of the earth that held the fireball together. Closer and closer the fireball screamed through the air toward him but Kaelrik felt no fear. Bringing up his hands he made a rending motion. The response was immediate as the force of his Defiance exerted itself over the ball of earth and fire. The rock and soil and coals were torn apart, scattering across the skies even as a trail of fire still came careening toward Kaelrik.

The Lotharro stood resolute in the face of the wall of fire. It crashed into him. Kaelrik felt the blaze wash over him. For a moment he felt the slightest fear. As soon as he felt it, the ever present warmth that suffused his body wrapped around the very core of his soul. He felt the element of fire all around him. It radiated power, strength and comfort. The inferno that swept over him was eager to meet him. It heard the radiant song of kinship that resounded in Kaelrik’s spark. The Lotharro reached out his right hand, the veins glowing with defiant power, and touched the fires that blazed around him. The flames leapt closer to him, wrapping Kaelrik in a protective shell before dissipating.

As the fire settled and Kaelrik beheld the battlefield, he realized that he was completely unharmed. His clothing was a bit singed but the fire hadn’t even so much as caused his skin to flush. In the deepest part of Kaelrik’s soul he felt an acknowledgement from the fire within him and around him. It brought a smile to his face. The Element of Fire now refused to do him any harm whatsoever. No matter what form it took. No matter where it came from. For they were kin on the deepest level.

“Die fiend!” Kaelrik’s attention was immediately pulled out of the communion as his spatial awareness flared. He moved to dodge out of the way of a warrior charging at him wielding a war hammer. He let out a cry of pain as the head of the war hammer smash into his chest. Kaelrik stumbled back even as a sheet of fire flared to life consuming the warrior as he screamed in agony.

He wrapped an arm around himself even as he heard the sound of the catapult releasing another ball of fire. Kaelrik’s attention snapped toward the catapult. He reached out with his defiance and grasped hold of the fireball. As he raised his arm however a stab of pain flared in his side making him stagger. The loss of his focus caught him off guard as the volley came rocketing toward him. Gasping in pain, the Lotharro realized swiftly that he wouldn’t be able to break apart the fireball quickly enough. Gritting his teeth, Kaelrik dove to the side as the fireball came crashing down next to him. The concussive force of the blow sent him flying through the air and slamming back into the earth some distance away. Kaelrik screamed as he felt pain flare in his side. He coughed and struggled to stop his head from spinning.

The ringing in his ears was a loud roar. Kaelrik coughed and he tasted iron in the back of his throat. He was dimly aware of a warrior’s battle cry nearby. He blinked, trying to clear his head. Vaguely he made out the form of three shapes moving toward him rapidly. Limply, Kaelrik pushed away from them even as he lay writhing in pain on the ground.

Fire. Help me. Please.

The flames that were burning around Kaelrik raged to life as they answered the wounded Defier’s need for protection.

Kaelrik didn’t know how long that would last. He had to get back on his feet, lest he end up a dead man.

[Nasod]

蛇 Clean up crew

蛇 38th of Ashan 719

蛇 Theme: Kodo

蛇 Thoughts: Shit!

蛇

The

walls of the lower decks of the ships were red....a fresh blood red from all the soldiers killed by the viper. He was engaging a few as he went along the corridors, slaughtering all he could find. It was actually a rather therapeutic activity for him.

As he reached on corridor he found himself greeted by two guards who didnt seem all that enthused about seeing him. He charged at them, and they too came running up at him. Once a few feet within their range the viper lept up onto the wall and swung his sword to the right. WIth a wicked hack, the first guard's head made a thudding noise as he hit the wooden floors and rolled away.

The second guard found himself yanked off the floor and being held in the air by the viper's tail. Descending from the wall, Dosan proceeded to pummel the man in the face as he hung there. He punched, kicked, kneed, and elbowed the poor sop until his defensive stance ceased. With that one dead the viper slung his body aside and went forward.

Within the room, those two were protecting Dosan could hear voices, as if there was a conversation happening, but to his surprise, entering the room only revealed one man. By the looks of him, he was the captain of the ship, a high ranking dragoon. He seemed to have lost what little sense he had, rambling on about things that the viper couldnt understand.

As he went forward, the man snapped back into reality. He warned Dosan that if the viper took another step, he'd light the entire boat ablaze. Dosan wished he was bluffing, but the scent of oil wafted around his nose, and it made the viper snarl. The commanding officer laughs teasing Dosan thinking he was afraid of the fire.

The viper didnt like that and decided to test his words. With a single foot he stepped forward, the captain lit the match and tossed it onto the floor. Dosan hisses and lept back as the entire floor became engulfed in flames. The captain broke out in a laugh while he cursed Dosan.

They viper could do no more saddened that he wasn't able to save the ship as Fridgar had requested. What was done was done, and he opted to save his life over a burning ship. Quickly he ran to the upper levels of the deck, and once topside, took the form of his blood bat totem and escaped as the flames erupted along the ship.

"Common Speech"

,

"Vahanic Speech"

, "NPC"

[Varthakh]

Fridgar hadn't noticed that the fireballs were being deflected prior to their decommissioning of the catapult, they only knew that the fireballs were being hurled in Dosan's direction and that they needed to shut it down. One thing that unsettled them about the whole ordeal was that they'd tasked Kaelrik with finding the catapult and deactivating its operators. Clearly, he never got the chance. What had happened?

With the hope to find him face down in the sand, they re-wrapped their eyes with their black blindfold and lifted their nose to the air. As they did, a mercenary from the guild of industry ran at them with a powerful war cry. They turned to face him and lifted their ax to counter the swing of his. However, the mercenary's ax cut through Fridgar's plain steel war ax; it was the superior weapon. The metal of their broken ax did well to lodge and grasp the mercenary's, so Fridgar used their other ax to sever the warrior's arm from the elbow down.

he screamed before Fridgar slammed his head with the broken face of their ax and caved in his helmet with the force of the impact. The mercenary fell shortly after, silent. The Lothar stowed their good ax, then looked over the one that their fallen enemy had carried. It was a far better weapon than their own, so they took it for themselves and discarded their broken steel ax once they'd dislodged them.

With a sigh, they drew their other ax, then made their way across the village and out the gates, following Kaelrik's scent and cutting down any mercenary that got in their way. Dealing with the villagers became a bit of a hassle along the way, so they began to sever the heads of the mercenaries along the way, then tied them to their loincloth by the hair to dangle. It was an easy way for the villagers of Hadrana to identify them as an ally, by carrying the heads of their enemies. Sometimes, it worked, too. While the Lothar and Ithecal both didn't recognize them, they recognized the severed heads on their belt and left them, while others needed more convincing.

Soon enough, they made it out of the village walls and followed Kaelrik's scent further. They walked over the bodies of the fallen mercenaries without care and eventually ended up at the source of Kaelrik's scent; a wounded man laid upon the ground with three warriors charging toward him. It seemed the last hurl of the catapult flew over Kaelrik, and he decided to redirect it with defiance, but why would he bring it down upon himself? Was that how he wound up injured?

They paused as they looked upon the scene with their heightened senses, then contemplated. On one hand, they could let Kaelrik to his fate here and report him as 'killed in battle' to Alistair, but on the other hand, they could save his life. A man as honorable as him would surely remain indebted to them; a debt they could reclaim on a later date when it suited them.

They lifted their mask and blindfold to bare their gleaming eyes to the scene, then cast a roar between Kaelrik and the warriors. They ran straight into it, then slowed to a halt as the air reverberated through their brains and destroyed their ears. Their scream turned from aggression to pain, and Fridgar seized the opportunity to bolt forward with all their runes of speed still active, then brought the blades of their dual axes to the flesh of their decided foes. They approached the roaring air, which also worked to disorient them, but Fridgar was a warrior of unmatched fortitude. Even when the roaring made them deaf and drew blood from their ears, they continued to fight unhindered. Swipe after swipe, the whistling hunger of their ax tore through the meat of the ~uacians, then left them as a pile of broken, bleeding man flesh.

With their opponents dead, they looked to Kaelrik. The roaring of the portal ceased and they dismissed their runes, drawing the ether back into themselves. with that ether, they cast chrysalis and worked to undo the damage to their ears while also reverting their armored scale hide to their ordinary thick, pale skin. "You're quite lucky we were here, Lothar," they said as their body rippled in a single wave, restoring it to normal over the course of thirty trills. "Can you walk? We need to regroup with Dosan," they said as they directed their vicious eyes to the water, where they could barely see the color of fire climbing all around the ship they'd told him to secure. had one fo the fireballs hit?

Their immediate reaction was anger, anger that Dosan had failed his one simple task and anger that Kaelrik had not deflected the catapult fire as he had just now. Only after perhaps half a bit of seething did they realize that Dosan might have been injured or slain on the ship. If that were the case, then they couldn't blame him. He'd have tried his best and they'd have an easy flight home. They looked to Kaelrik again while clutching their blood-stained axes, then stowed them next to their collection of severed heads at their waist.

"Do you need us to carry you too or can you walk?" They asked with little consideration.