#Galdanir

[wynilthyrii]

Cautionary Tales

They took a portal to Dalaran.  Wyn was silent but did not relinquish her grip on Galdanir’s arm as she headed resolutely down the city’s cobbled streets.  The mage wisely held his tongue as they moved swiftly along the broad boulevards lined with handcarts and floating pots brimming with flowers and greenery.  The girl navigated those streets with the familiarity of one who might as well have been a local.  The truth of it was, she’d spent enough time in the city over the nearly four decades of her life that these streets and the stones that built Dalaran were as familiar as the manor where she’d been raised and the city that was her people’s home.

The coffee shop she brought him to was tucked into the artisans’ quarter, dark-paneled with the faintest tinge of pipe-smoke lingering in the air, mingling with the scent of fresh-roasted coffee and baked goods.  There was a warmth to the place, but also a remoteness, a sense of anonymity and privacy. She brought him to a shadowed corner, inclined her head slightly to one of the waitstaff.  The waiter nodded and blinked to the counter, stepping behind it.

She didn’t speak until the man returned, settling a tray onto the mahogany table between them. There was a pot of coffee, two mugs full of the stuff and already steaming, and a small plate of flake rolls, savory and sweet both, artfully arranged into a pile on that tiny plate. Wyn took up her mug, stirred in a bit of sugar, and watched him for a full minute before she took a sip of that coffee.

Once her mug settled back to the wood of the table, she cleared her throat.  “Thank you.  I suppose I owe you a bit of an explanation.”

He answered with an arched brow as he took up his own mug, watching her in silence.  One corner of her mouth curled upward, expression almost rueful.

“I have a history with the Forsaken.”

“Clearly,” he said, tempering his own coffee to his liking before taking a sip.  He leaned back, watching her, and said nothing more.  She met his gaze, studying him, flickers of gold and silver tangling with the last vestiges of fel green.

Then, after a moment and another sip of coffee, he said, “Certainly not those particular Forsaken.”

“No,” she agreed. “No, but I have experienced the tender mercies of ones like them.”  A fingertip trailed along one of the scars around her neck, near her throat, her gaze growing distant for a few moments. “You’ve read my file.”

He said nothing, but his silence was answer enough.  She picked up her cup, took a sip, smiled faintly, her gaze flicking back to his face for a few seconds before she looked away again.

“You know that they held me,” she said softly.  “And now we know that I was in their custody thanks to an attack by the Eye on my family’s ancestral home, thanks to the attack a few months ago while I was there looking at my mother’s papers.”  She idly rubbed at her wrist, at one of the scars there.  It was a small thing, a neat, narrow mark perhaps an inch in length, long healed now though far younger than some of the other marks on her flesh. “Intellectually, emotionally, I knew that I had been tortured,” she said, her voice growing even quieter, as if someone might overhear despite their isolation there in that shadowed corner. “But it wasn’t until a couple of years ago that I really started to remember—that I fought to remember—what had happened to me in their hands.”

There was only the most subtle shift in his expression, though she seemed to mark it.  A moment later, she produced an object and set it on the table between them: a felsteel screw, no more than half an inch long, its point facing up, balancing on its head.  Galdanir eyed it even as Wyn watched him.

“It started with that,” she whispered.  “I was a volunteer to Arthamir Tyrellian’s regiment then, and I was standing in defense of his family’s lands in the marches when the Legion returned.  It was before I joined the Order, when I was still just considering as a possibility.  I was still a mage, then, but I’d come to know Knight-Lord Dra’zar by then and we were friendly.  I don’t know how much you know about Jadoth Bloodreign, but he’s how I met the Knight-Lord. There was a sparring match at one point, probably six months, a year before the Legion assaults started, and the Knight-Lord and I were both watching it.  He could tell I was concerned about Jadoth and I think in some ways he already had a bit of a soft spot for him.  He took the time to reassure me and we got to talking.  We kept talking afterwards and in time, it developed into a friendship that I treasured.”

She was keenly aware of the weight of his gaze but chose to ignore it as she took a sip of coffee, staring at the screw on the table between them.  Then she took another sip, savoring the interplay of sweet and bitter before she continued.

“Anyhow.  There was an attack and I had joined the defense on the walls.  The Legion had made allies of some of House Tyrellian’s enemies, so the forces were a mix of elves and demons and other allies of that enemy house.  There were gargoyles and demons and siege engines and at one point, a trebuchet took out a section of the wall near where I was helping to shore up the wards.  Another of the mages and I were hit by flying debris and I broke my wrist.”  She nodded to the screw.  “That was embedded in the bone and came free when it was broken. Sufficient to say that my friends with the Vanguard and outside the Vanguard were concerned but at the same time, I think most of them didn’t want to think about what it could mean.  I think most of them assumed that it would be too traumatic and besides, there was a war coming—we all knew it—and why reopen healed wounds, after all, especially on the eve of that?”

The ghost of a smile crossed her lips and then was gone, replaced by a determined look and a fire in her gaze as she stared at him.  “No one supported me in my desire to figure out what it meant, pushed me to keep digging, like your father did, Galdanir.  Everyone was afraid that what I would find might break me, or at the very least hurt more than it was worth.  He knew different.”  She reached out and picked up the screw, tucking it away.  “I know he was worried, too.  But he supported me in what I needed to do and gave me the encouragement and support necessary to learn the truth.  I know he worried along with the rest of them but he recognized two things: that he could not stop me and this was something I needed to unravel in order for me to finally truly begin heal.  There were more than a hundred screws just like that one inside of my body. They tainted my magic, affected my ability to wield the Light, and were put there by the bloody Forsaken.

“I was brought to the Tirisfal Glades by the Eye’s adherents and turned over to some Forsaken who promised to extracts the secrets of my House from me.  They promised to break me.  I know now what their ultimate goal was, at least in the attempt to break me.  I still don’t fully know or understand what they were trying to do with the felsteel they left inside of me, but I suspect quite a few things, theories that will be either disproven or confirmed the day I get my hands on the worthless undead that did it to me.  I will never again forget their faces or their voices because I cannot and have not forgotten what the feel of their hands and their tools against my flesh.  I carry more scars than I can count thanks to their ministrations. Someday, they will pay for it—justice will come, whether from my blade or another’s, it will come.

“They tortured me, Galdanir. They used me, experimented on me. For years, I had no real idea what they did and now I know.  I have a journal full of what I’ve remembered, the dreams—the nightmares—and memories from that time.  I would wake in the dead of the night in a cold sweat with a scream trapped behind my teeth suddenly knowing what had happened, what had been.

“I will never trust them.  I can’t.  Not knowing what they come from and not knowing what they did to me and being entirely certain that I was not the only one suffering that way.  The bloody apothecaries do their damnable work on whoever has the misfortune of falling into their hands.  It doesn’t matter who you are, who you were—they don’t care.  All you are to them are a subject for their work.  That is the true nightmare—that and the fact that no one can or will stop them because they are useful and their work is useful.”

She closed her eyes for a few seconds, taking a deep swallow from her cup of coffee.  “My views are unpopular, but they are my own.  I keep them to myself, but no one can force me to believe what I do not wish to believe.  Trust in that, brother, if you trust in nothing else.  Trust in that.”

[Mentions: @darlingknave (for not-Cord), @drimmari, @worst-paladin-ever]

[houseildanan]

A letter to Arius Dawnglory - 2 January

[This letter is written on good parchment in dark blue ink, sealed in navy wax with the seal of Lord Kyvare.  A bundle of books accompanies the missive, as well as a tin of tea, a bag of coffee, and a bottle of mead.]

Arius,

I have started this letter a dozen times over the past weeks and I’ve never liked it, and so instead I’ve decided to simply write it straight-out.  I imagine that you received the gifts for Winter Veil that we sent for you and Elora—I do hope that she likes the doll and the books, though I suppose I can’t be heartbroken if she doesn’t.

Life here has been as one might expect—quiet punctuated with minor crisis here and there.  I imagine that you’ve been kept at least somewhat abreast on the goings-on thanks to our uncles, though if you’ve not, I suppose that I cannot be all that surprised.

I know I sent you the announcement about Fynnegan.  He is a joy and I hope to bring him to see you both soon.  The children seem to be thriving in the Everlight—I bring the twins whenever I can, and Uncle has brought the triplets to live with him at the keep.  Juden is set to begin his training under Galdanir and the rest at the academy, and it seems that as the new year dawns, things will settle into a routine once more. I must admit that the peace has been good.

Gan Dawnrose has been working to rebuild the Wardens and it seems the first crop will undergo their initial rites soon enough.  Just this morning, uncle mentioned something about preparing a Warding rite for one of them, so I imagine such a thing is imminent.  There are at least a dozen of them by my count, though I admit that I only know a handful by face and by name, and fewer still have come to breakfast at the keep.  I do see them running often enough, sometimes in tandem with Wyn’s initiates—and sometimes not.

I’ve not yet found a space I like to build a cottage in the Everlight, though I imagine I’ll come to that eventually.  Wyn recently purchased a parcel of land near the seashore to build.  The year’s end ball was there last night, among the trees. Perhaps someone took snapshots—I’ll have to see.  If so, I’ll forward them on to you.  It was as one would expect, though perhaps a bit less formal given the outdoor venue.

It has quieted down, now, and things have begun to settle I think.  I hope that this letter finds you more at ease and well.  I will admit that I miss you keenly and it still feels strange that you are not here, but I suppose that is not the only loss I feel—though your absence is different, for you’re still here, albeit there.  I should come and visit soon.  Last night we were talking about the days Seni and I spent in Dalaran years ago and it’s made me wistful, I fear.  Seeing the stones and spires again might do me some good.

The enclosed books are copies of some from my personal library—a mix for both you and Elora, adventures and theory and medical studies and the like.  The tea to soothe the soul, coffee to prepare for the day, and mead to warm the nights.

I do hope you are well, brother.  Know that you are loved and missed.

 Yours faithfully,

Tyr.

[korivalthedarkone]

The Deluge of Souls

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: The frozen waterfall to the north of the outpost has been shattered, replaced with an inky river known as the Deluge of Souls. Thanks to Mourne, the late Haden Lightwing and a mysterious Revenant, the Deluge was diverted to southeastern Icecrown before it could wash over the outpost.

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: "Alright. Small force here with the wards, myself, two volunteers? The rest of you will be the flanking attack, up there to the southwest of where I stand. When the enemy is trapped in the wards here, unleash hell."

Nestevon-WyrmrestAccord: Nestevon raises a hand. "I can help you Mourne."

Rethandral-WyrmrestAccord: Raising his hand, "I shall aid you, sir."

Tyrvarden-WyrmrestAccord: Tyr takes a deep breath.  "Think you'll need a bolster, brother?"

Galdanir-WyrmrestAccord: "I'll stand near the gate to manage the illusion and the false breach."

Bakharah-WyrmrestAccord: Bakhara looks at Tyr. "Do you wish me to stay with the menders, or aid Captain Sunblaze, sir?"

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: Mourne nods. "Good, Galdanir. Everyone understand the plan? Unleash hell once they are trapped, be wary of the void-falls, mind the corrupted."

Tyrvarden-WyrmrestAccord: Tyr shakes his head hard.  "Don't worry about staying with the menders.  Hit the enemy and hit them hard."

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: "Sunfall - you are the defense of the flanking group."

Rethandral-WyrmrestAccord: "Aye sir. You'll be safe."

Bakharah-WyrmrestAccord: The orc nods at Tyr and moves off toward the others.

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: "Me? Hah, no, I am bait. Flanking group, go."

Galdanir-WyrmrestAccord: Eyes aglow with arcane magic, Galdanir raises a hand toward the barrier just beyond the gate. "At your command, Champion."

Otrera-WyrmrestAccord: Otrera tugs her eredar skull down over her features, fel green eyes peering through the eye holes in an eerie fashion. "Right. Give 'em hell, hear that Bacon?" The ray does a backflip.

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: "At two minutes after flank group moves. Go. Flank, everyone who is not staying with me."

Bakharah-WyrmrestAccord: Aylora nods to Otrera. "Put as many holes as we can in them. I don't want them able to walk or flee."

Otrera-WyrmrestAccord: "Right!"

Taneisha-WyrmrestAccord: "I'll be going out onto the field.

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: The Deluge of Souls whispers this eve. It weaves tales of oncoming storm, of the truth behind the black clouds swirling above the Argent outpost, of the rites and rituals spanning the frozen expanse of Northrend’s bloodstained shores and all the land between them. Time itself drags at the edges, stretched taut over the unnatural shadowy growths that plague these lands. The snow falls and winds pound, black flakes the frozen teardrops of a madman’s unhinged laughter.

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord:  ~"Prepare yourself, 194th. Sunwell guide."~

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: Night has fallen far too early. It’s not the cool shade of blanketing clouds or the light-framed pool of an eclipse: it’s darkness enduring and eternal, such that day itself might be easily forgotten and that the ill-fated denizens of the midnight hours ascend from their daytime haunts. The snows part around a rider who approaches from the north, hood drawn, his steed black as midnight; his frame marks him Human. He is flanked by two hulking figures, hunched against the elements as their leathery, rune-etched skin is battered by void snow.

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: Mourne raises his arms, starting to alter the wards, as if he is struggling - and yet upping his own power... a tasty lure, a wondrous distraction.

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: The hooded figure projects his voice-- except it’s not louder, per se, only closer, as borne by the winds and snow falling and annihilation with the wards. It comes through muffled. “Wolves of the Pack; Sheep of the Herd. I approach with Julgar, son of Julgen, on behalf of the great Lord of Shadow, seeking terms of surrender.”

Galdanir-WyrmrestAccord: Though he's vanished from sight, a faint shimmer, like heat rising from the asphalt, marks the space along the wall where the magister waits.

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: They crack and surge. "He Who Seeks accepts your surrender. Return my Crown."

Ishkael-WyrmrestAccord: "What an odd fellow..."

Otrera-WyrmrestAccord: Otrera frowns, gun in hand, though her eyes are briefly on the sky, the song. Shaking her head, she grumbles something to Bacon.

Tyrvarden-WyrmrestAccord: Tyr holds up a hand for silence among the ambush team.

Bakharah-WyrmrestAccord: Aylo tugs down her goggles, the lenses whirring quietly as they zoom in on the others.

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: Peals of laughter break on the howling wind, augment it, become it. "You humor the Dark One. He asks only your life, Shepherd, and that of your Wolf-- and one other that can be salvaged another day."

Nestevon-WyrmrestAccord: Nestevon stands, acting as Mourne's big strong guard.

Rethandral-WyrmrestAccord: Rethandral squints at the gathering activity farther down back into the camp and north of it.

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: "You know what I belong to, and it is not you and yours. Fools, apostates. We deny you."

Galdanir-WyrmrestAccord: The wards shudder beneath the constant onslaught.

Taneisha-WyrmrestAccord: The healer narrowed her gaze as she squinted towards the camp. "Light heed me," she whispered.

Aelitheline-WyrmrestAccord: Her eyes are closed, and she awaits the queue to strike. She's dead silent, even her breathing practically gone. She's listening...

Otrera-WyrmrestAccord: "Fuckin' shit..." she stamps her feet in the cold. Something doesn't feel right, and her gut churns. "Bacon, we should've retired back after the Siege..."

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: Still, his own wards rise and crack, his own power roiling. To those who are attuned to shadow, it sings almost sweetly, but faint.

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: "So be it. Ye of thin flesh and limited blood, of great faith and little understanding, rejoice. You have come to our home, now, and your incursion will be spurned." The void snow becomes tidal waves of raw magic, of life essence siphoned and tortured by the encroaching and all-consuming madness of Void. It breaks across the wards, eats, sunders.

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: Mourne's stance shudders, his wards can be felt as they -crack- against the northeast... but then he quickly tries to stem the tide.

Rethandral-WyrmrestAccord: Gritting his teeth, he reflectively closes his right eye against the masses of darkness sweeping upon the wards, his ears twitch back in irritation but still, he waits.

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: It is falling, falling, clearly he seems to struggle now in his fight.

Tyrvarden-WyrmrestAccord: The mender captain is silent and still as a stone.

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: The Void is nigh sentient as it seeks and pries at the cracks in the defenses. Meanwhile, from the north-- just beyond the Deluge of Souls-- a war horn sounds, loud and primal against the winds. "SHADESKORN!" comes the voice, somehow piercing the storm. "CHARGE!"

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: Mourne's wards crack at the northwest now too, starting to crumble. "Damnit, no!"

Galdanir-WyrmrestAccord: There, facing the waterfall; a fracture in the magister's fine spell. The arcane that supported Mourne's Light and Shadow is run through with darkening cracks. It shatters like so much glass, dissolving as it crumbles before the shadeskorn.

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: Chuckling to himself, the hooded rider turns and rides north. His allies follow-- and are crossed by the horde of Vrykul mounted on their shade worgs, those crude amalgams of flesh and magic, chomping at the proverbial bit to sink serrated teeth in the flesh of elves.

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: Mourne skitters backwards, appearing to frantically try to get the wards up. "No, no no!"

Nestevon-WyrmrestAccord: Nestevon raises his own hands, pretending to help bolster the shields.

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: The first worgs crash headlong into the wards-- wards that are not yet *quite* broken and, as such, spur the insurgents from their mounts, where they inhale snow and crack ribs upon landing.

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: "Aqev... aqev- hul bala miz rilakhich..." The wards crack just a bit as each one hits, appearing to crumble.

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: "AZ'HAL ITAR HUL RILATUR NYRGADUUL."

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: The wards that Mourne holds shatter and crack- in the north, at least.

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: The worgs have taken to burrowing at the wards, over and over, until steaming droplets of shadowy blood spill from their eyes and nose, from ears and chest...

Bakharah-WyrmrestAccord: Aylo quietly draws an arrow from her quiver, preparing to help clear the way for those below, when the time came.

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: Another voice, this one very mortal, sounds over the winds. "SHADESKORN, FLANK NORTH!" And so north they flank; some of the riders carry rope bookended with hooks, and it's this they use to toss over the walls and prepare to scale. Meanwhile a veritable

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: army of mounted Vrykul 'cavalry' amasses to north and west, and prepares to move south...

Otrera-WyrmrestAccord: "Ah shit. Are they comin' this way?"

Aelitheline-WyrmrestAccord: Her eyes open as she now hears the chaos, the sound of the beings throwing themselves against the wards, and her hand lifts. Palm closes around the hilt of her twinblade, readying herself to charge. Her body is tense, and a quiver is in her left hand as she grits her teeth.

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: Mourne drops his wards to the north entirely, and erupts like a beacon of shadow, spiraling out towards their enemies. He is trying to make it look like a desperate attack- but really, it's a taunt.

Rethandral-WyrmrestAccord: "We will hold until we get the signal to attack."

Tyrvarden-WyrmrestAccord: "Shut it," Tyr hisses, eyes gleaming.

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: It's a taunt that works, as it swallows two riders and mounts entirely in its wake, rendering them limb from limb and eventually molecule from molecule in Mourne's wake.

Amateo-WyrmrestAccord: Amateo braces himself, reading his weapon and uttering a fervent prayer under his breath.

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: Ribbons upon ribbons of darkness surging outwards to each.

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: The rest charge, and the group flanking south kicks up snow and dirt as riders heel mounts to move north and inward.

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: Mourne continues with the void taunting, drawing them in... in....

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: "What the h--" From one of the guard towers, an olive-skinned and wide eyed Argent peeks out of the window; her curiosity is rewarded with a harpoon through her open mouth that pierces flesh, bone and skin to pin her, dead, to the wall behind.

Nestevon-WyrmrestAccord: Nestevon moves himself behind Mourne.

Aelitheline-WyrmrestAccord: Her eyes watch as the Argent was fallen from a single spear, ears twitching as she muttered. "War brings collateral damage...all that matters is we avenge those who fall..."

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: Now the Vrykul flood the camp, at least two score of them moving three-deep to the gates and through them, now...

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: Mourne is a veritable unholy beacon of shadow, now. "Fuck you and your Nyrgaduul! 194th, NOW!"

Tyrvarden-WyrmrestAccord: "Attack!"

Amateo-WyrmrestAccord] Amateo lets out a battle cry and charges with his comrades!

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: "BLADES GO GO GO!"

Rethandral-WyrmrestAccord: Bringing sword and shield ready as the enemies rushed in, Rethandral joins the surprise attack group in assaulting their enemies with a mighty challenging yell!

Aelitheline-WyrmrestAccord: She moves, as soon as she hears, charging forth and leaping over the wall. She lands, her blade drawn, and ready for action.

[Taneisha-WyrmrestAccord: Taneisha wasted no time and rushed in, Light sparking at her fingertips as she snarled.

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: This is NOT the place for mounted combat, and the Vrykul are learning this the hard way-- their mounts charge of their own accord, often tripping over their own feet as they try to organize and hunt down the elves.

Bakharah-WyrmrestAccord: Aylo moves forward, firing as she goes, dropping arrows into anything that moved against them. Bakharah followed the others over the wall with a roar.

Nestevon-WyrmrestAccord: Nestevon's hands draw up the void, as he begins to get ready to unleash hell onto the incoming enemies.

Galdanir-WyrmrestAccord: Bright as the glow around the Dalaran crater, a six inch thick wall of raw, crackling Arcane rises from the snow, pushing corruption and nature itself aside. The dome closes over the outpost- blazing, brilliant, and unstable.

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: The Worgs find Nestevon and Bakharah, charging them over!

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: Mourne starts to switch the shadow-luring to the wards. Yoink

Galdanir-WyrmrestAccord: In his hidden alcove, Galdanir has taken a knee, the faintest outline of him visible when his focus wavers. His lips move, the spell ongoing.

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: It's pandemonium, chaos-- and now the Blades can truly appreciate the depth of their genius. As the Worgs are physically and magically severed from the Deluge of Souls, they begin to physically disintegrate! Falling, piece by piece, they howl and try to sink their teeth into anything nearby-- Vrykul, Blade, and fellow Worg alike.

Otrera-WyrmrestAccord: Otrera also moves forward with Aylo, shooting at anything not wearing the 194th's colors; Bacron screeches, arcane energy filtering down his form, as he moves to snatch at worgs missing their riders and carry them to doom via gravity.

Nestevon-WyrmrestAccord: Nestevon uses what little strength his body has to try and push back the flooding worgs, of course getting battered along the way

Bakharah-WyrmrestAccord: Bakharah let out a string of orcish curses as the worgs knock her into the snow, using her shield to try and keep them from getting any closer.

Rethandral-WyrmrestAccord: Digging his feet into the snowy ground, he calls upon his Light energy to ward one side of the attack group.

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: Mourne whips two void ribbons around, letting them seep through the snow and impale two unfortunate souls. It glowers darker. Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: The skull buddies will eat well, later.

Amateo-WyrmrestAccord: Once he hits the ground Amateo does not hesitate. He keeps charging forward, impaling one vrykul and hitting another hard in the head with the broad-side of the weapon.

Otrera-WyrmrestAccord: Otrera hisses stumbling down over the wall as a worg comes into contact with her shoulder. "Bad dogs, holy shit--"

Rethandral-WyrmrestAccord: Grunting, a crumbling, disintegrating warg crashes into his shield, clambers over it and savagely bites at his shoulder and armor, before crumbling into nothing but filthy bits. "Accursed creature!"

Bakharah-WyrmrestAccord: Bakharah, still on the ground, snarls as a blade cuts into her leg, pinning her there for the moment. Aylo on the other hand, stands on the wall and picks off two of the attackers, her arrows catching them in the eyes.

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: "PURGE THE HERETICS!"

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: The biggest of all the Vrykul is one whose tattoos span every square inch of exposed flesh and knotted muscle; in each hand is an axe dripping Void and emitting ice aura. He roars, "Shadeskorn, invoke the Dark Lord! He will bless us!"

Taneisha-WyrmrestAccord: Clearly the red head a temper this evening and it showed herself as she withdrew her sword and shield. The mender however said nothing as she rushed towards her first target, ramming her shield into it and then running it through her blade as it stumbled back. Once that hulking nightmare was dealt with she turned her attention to the next and charged at them, piercing the monster's heart before withdrawing with a low growl and assuming a defensive stance.

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: The Vrykul take up a chant in Shath'yar! Their blades ignite with Shadow! One of the Vrykul charges Kiri from the side, swinging an axe for her thigh!

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: Another fires an arrow from the back of the ranks, catching Bakharah's shoulder!

Tyrvarden-WyrmrestAccord: The medic lets loose a spiral of Light and fire at one of the Vyrkul.

Bakharah-WyrmrestAccord: Bakharah tried to rise, until the arrow struck her shoulder. As the Vrykul came closer, maybe to finish her off, the orc kicked out and tripped him, wrapping her leg around his neck as she pulled back on his forehead, choking him out.

Otrera-WyrmrestAccord: Otrera takes aim at the Vrykul that Bacon is harassing; there's a crackle of lightning from her gun, and it hits the creature square in the eye, felling him.

Rethandral-WyrmrestAccord: Flooded by combat against the advancing Vrykul as they became more organized now and attacked as a unit, Rethandral found himself tested as a shieldman, taking hits, slashing, bashing. These were a difficult enemy and they were chipping away at his armor and shield to draw blood here and there!

Galdanir-WyrmrestAccord: A stray arrow nails Galdanir in the thigh, passing through phased flesh only for the magic imbuing it to tear him fully into the physical world. Ow.

Bakharah-WyrmrestAccord: Aylo saw the thrown weapon coming a moment too late, dropping off the wall as the large axe cut into her hip.

Aelitheline-WyrmrestAccord: As the Vrykul charges, she tries to meet it's advancing swing, though she is foolish in thinking her small stature would meet the Might of the Vrykul. Her blade is effortlessly pushed back, feeling the bite of the axe shred through her thigh and sending a hiss of pain through her. A snarl is heart behind her helm as she twists her form, her blade dipping low and arching upwards as she slashed the Vrykuls’ axe arm off, twisting the blade around and then impaling it into the creature's chest, only to kick it into the snow, returning to her stance quickly. A stagger is given from the pain in her thigh, but otherwise, she's still standing.

Galdanir-WyrmrestAccord: Worse still- now he's in plain sight, and the connection between the magister and the wards that encase the outpost has become tangible.

Amateo-WyrmrestAccord: Amateo gets slashed in the arm with an axe, unable to defend himself against the charge. The hand on the wounded arm momentarily loses its grip on his weapon, and it thunks lamely into the snow due to the sudden imbalance.

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: The Vrykul leader notices this interaction between Galdanir and the physical ward and, roaring, charges the Magister!

Ishkael-WyrmrestAccord: Ish'kael launches himself by the staff, soaring for some feet to plant his boot into a Vykruls’ face.  Enough force to smash the nose in too far into the skull.  As a second came towards him, Ish'kael simply moved quick..  And jabbed the foe in the throat with a spark of lightning through his hand.

Rethandral-WyrmrestAccord: Stealing a glance of the battlefield, Rethandral notes someone rather important in mortal danger. He calls upon a shaft of Light and hurls it surely at the giant Vrykul commander. "Take on someone your own size, you coward!" Rethandral shouts, clashing his blade on his shield loudly.

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: The plan was only temporary-- of course the Captains factored this, but it's true all the same. The Void assault on the wards renews from the outside.

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: Meanwhile, vigor renewed by the possibility of coming reinforcements, the Vrykul charge the Blades' lines once more! They still outnumber those standing nearly 2:1!

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: Mourne staggers again when the renewed assault hits his wards.

Tyrvarden-WyrmrestAccord: Tyr thumbs his COMM.  "Can we lock him down, portal out?"

Otrera-WyrmrestAccord: Otrera's head whips towards the wards, ears flattening against her skull.

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: Her exposure at the front of the group renders Taneisha an easy target for one of the Vrykul; with both of his axes he swings, hard, for the Knight-Master's chest. Having seen what Kiri did to what was probably his friend or beer drinking buddy or Cousin Earl or something, one of the Vrykul charges Kiri, shoulder checking her to the snow.

Galdanir-WyrmrestAccord: His eyes trained on Rethandral's foe, Galdanir braces his palms against the void tainted snow, still whispering the words that hold his wards steady. For now.

Taneisha-WyrmrestAccord: An anguished scream escaped the Knight-Master's chest as a massive axe struck her in the chest and sent her falling over onto her back before she sharply cursed under her breath.

Nestevon-WyrmrestAccord: Nestevon doing a good job of missing and being missed

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: "I AM JULGEN, SON OF JULBOR!" roars the massive Vrykul, turning heel to face down Rethandral. He swings both of his heavy axes in an attempt to break the knight's guard!

Aelitheline-WyrmrestAccord: Her attention was all over the battlefield trying to assess, to see where she was --- WHAM! She lets out a loud squeak as her body is thrown into the snow, dazed for a moment as her helm falls off from the blow, and her scarlet locked head lays back in the snow.

Rethandral-WyrmrestAccord: Rethandral had kept his shield up, but the mountain of muscle elf was clearly knocked off his feet and flung sideways into the snow as two cleft marks are left on his shield with trickling blood from cuts of his arm holding it!

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: Julbor is strengthened with retribution by the death of his comrades!

Aelitheline-WyrmrestAccord: Having regained her composure, she quickly leaps to her feet. Her blade is held tightly at her side as she rushes past the chaos, moving to meet Reth's side as she stepped in to take a blow for him. She grits her teeth, though ignores the pain as her fel green eyes narrow, her blade held tight, and her stance strong, refusing to go down.

Otrera-WyrmrestAccord: Otrera shifts in the back, moving to take better aim at Julbor. She whistles sharply; Bacon swoops in from the sky, sharp teeth and arcane magic harassing the Vrykul leader as her void bolt hits his knee.

Rethandral-WyrmrestAccord: "Dawnfury?!" He grits out in pain, then gets back to his feet. "Nice to see you again."

Aelitheline-WyrmrestAccord: "Heh, likewise, catch --- hnnng...up later, right now, ass kickin' time!"

Amateo-WyrmrestAccord: Amateo sees Taneisha fall and nearly panics at the sight. Just before he crumbles, her words before the battle come to him: he must stay calm. He is of no use to anyone if he loses control. So instead, he lifts his weapon with one arm still screaming from the axe blow, and thrusts the pointy-end into the Vrykul leader.

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: Mourne whispers a prayer as he works on the wards.

Galdanir-WyrmrestAccord: A tendril of arcane tears through the snow, lashing out at Julbor from the very ground beneath their feet.

Rethandral-WyrmrestAccord: Checking his shield arm, Rethandral roars out in challenge as he seemed to blaze with light. "You shall fall to my blade!" He rejoins the attack on Julbor, keeping him away from their mage!

Bakharah-WyrmrestAccord: Bakharah shoved the dead Vrykul off of her and rose. She jerks the shortspear from her leg and drives it into the chest of the first vrykul to come in range of her. Aylo tried to stand from where she'd fallen off the wall only to have a large foot slam down on top of her chest, the sharp cracking noise coming from her ribs, alarming.

Taneisha-WyrmrestAccord: Slowly but surely the mender rose to her feet as golden magic sparked at her fingertips and she rushed at the nearest foe, taking off the monster's head before she assumed a defensive stance once again.

Nestevon-WyrmrestAccord: Nestevon thinks he's been useful, throwing fel fire everywhere, he didn't see the Vyrkrul coming after him, taking a spiked mace into the chest. Oof.

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: Julgar roars, slamming his foot down into the snow and sending a shockwave of brutal force outward!

Ishkael-WyrmrestAccord: For all his speed, he couldn't take on too many.  As he dodged one, the other took the shot.  The monk felt a blade cut across his side and rolled away from getting another wound.

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: Meanwhile, the 14 remaining Vrykul surge among the group of soldiers behind those fighting Julbor, swinging axes and causing chaos, the blood of their mounts still hot and steaming upon their skin.

Nestevon-WyrmrestAccord: As Nest tried to get the spiked mace out of his chest, another Vyrkrul swings, taking one of Nestevon's arm off. He wasn't excited about that.

Amateo-WyrmrestAccord: Amateo stumbles backwards from the force of the attack, but adrenaline and pure force of will keep him from feeling the full extent of his current injuries. He grits his teeth and takes up his fighting stance again.

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: Mourne is caught on the side as he held the wards, a smack and a crunch.

Bakharah-WyrmrestAccord: Bakharah jerked the spear from the fallen vrykul and turns, looking for another. As she turned, the vrykul behind her drove the spear into her abdomen, roaring in the face as he did so.

Ishkael-WyrmrestAccord: His backpedalling did no good, one closed the gap and swung hard..  Ish'kael went rolling like a croquet ball.

Aelitheline-WyrmrestAccord: The stomp sends out a tremble, her footing shaky and starting to stumble until she staggers back. Her blade is flipped around, driving the tip into the snow to steady her footing as she retreats behind Reth for a moment. "N - Need to recover!"

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: One oncoming Vrykul swings hard at Tyr upon cornering the Captain, fist connecting with his temple with a brutal 'crack'. He lifts both axes to finish the job…

Nestevon-WyrmrestAccord: Nestevon tried to cast a spell with his good arm, but the Vyrkrul slapped him and he misfired.

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: Mourne swatted at the nearest Vrykul that struck him, then charged towards Tyr- perhaps not as much charged as a shadow-tendril wraith of doom between Tyr and the one who would harm his brother.

Tyrvarden-WyrmrestAccord: The medic goes down hard, seeing stars.

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: The Vrykul attacking Tyr is strangled by the magics he worships!

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: Mourne thinks they both enjoy it a little.

Ishkael-WyrmrestAccord: With a grunt and a jump back to his feet, Ish'kael would not let it get him down.  As two vykrul approached as he leapt back they would get face full of fire.  Flames hot enough to overtake the two.

Rethandral-WyrmrestAccord: Rethandral ducks under the swinging range of those deadly dual axes and viciously slams his shield multiple times into the Vrykul leader, knocking the foul thing on its heels.

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: Meanwhile, the remaining Vrykul-- all ten of them-- attempt to rally, swinging and fighting, but they're being corralled… One of them manages to accost Tanei, kicking her brutally square between the shoulderblades.

Amateo-WyrmrestAccord: Amateo prepares to strike at the Vrykul, calling upon the Light to aid his strike. His weapon sings with golden light, and by all means his attack is going to be really awesome. As he congratulates himself on how cool he looks right now, a stray arrow hits him in the side and completely throws him off. The Light on his weapon winks away and he completely flubs the swing.

Aelitheline-WyrmrestAccord: She watches Reth's assault, and moves. Her form is swift as she darts to the side, skirting the opposite side of Amateo's damage dealt and moving around behind Julgen. Tip of Faithkeeper dragging through the snow before she lashes a strong upper swing to the being's back, tearing a nice gash in his back.

Otrera-WyrmrestAccord: Otrera takes a breath, reaching for the central mechanism on her gun. She twists it, the color of the internal glow changing from red to pale violet. "BACON, FETCH!" Her cry rings out above the din of the combat as she takes aim above the Vrykul leader's head and fires an orb of pure arcane energy. Her nether ray swoops in, gathering the magic into his body. At her whistle, the creature divebombs the prone leader, the magic passing from ray to Vrykul in an electric shock enough to render him unconscious for a good, long while.

Otrera-WyrmrestAccord: Bacon trills. He's so proud. Even if he ripples a little bit like an open electrical wire.

Galdanir-WyrmrestAccord: Once Julbor has fallen, the ground below him becomes a swirling vortex of Arcane. He's pinned on the very brink of passing through a portal into the unknown.

Bakharah-WyrmrestAccord: Aylo stretched, ignoring the pain in her ribs and grabbed her bow, aiming up, and loosing the arrow in the soft part of the vrykuls’ under jaw.

Taneisha-WyrmrestAccord: Well, the Knight-Master didn't seem to be having a good day and it only got worse as one of the giants managed to rush her and kicked her squarely between the shoulder blades, evoking a startled and pained yelp from her before she stumbled face first into the snow only to growl soon after. "I've had just about enough of your crap!" She snapped out.

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: Mourne swoops his arm in a sweeping gesture, more ribbons of darkness shoot forth, aiming spikes through the heads of the two unlucky Vrykul in Mourne's way.

Tyrvarden-WyrmrestAccord: A spear of light stabs out from the medic's outstretched hand, still down on one knee in the snow.

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: Void magic continues to crash down on the wards!

Galdanir-WyrmrestAccord: Speaking softly through gritted teeth, Galdanir brings his comm to his lips. "I can't hold this."

Ishkael-WyrmrestAccord: As one tries to get away, Ish'kael out stretches his hand, striking the Vykrul with red lightning.

Nestevon-WyrmrestAccord: Nestevon, thoroughly fed up, shoots void bolts from his hood and into the face of the mace wielding Vyrkrul. As that one lets go of the mace stuck in the undead's chest to stagger back, Nestevon rips it out and slams it into the side of the Vyrkrul who knocked off his arm before sucking the life out of that one. After he turns and shoots flames to melt the first Vyrkrul.

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: "BROTHERS, COVER ME!" With only three Vrykul remaining, one drops to his knee and draws a diamond-studded dagger from his belt, which he uses to begin carving at his wrist. The other two Vrykul take defensive positions around him!

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: "Stop the one with the dagger!"

Tyrvarden-WyrmrestAccord: "We need an exit NOW!"

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: Mourne holds up an arm- he's going to lightning rod this if he can.

Rethandral-WyrmrestAccord: With a mighty stomp, Rethandral sends a shuddering shockwave of burning Light to engulf one of the vrykul in hungry, vengeful flames!

Bakharah-WyrmrestAccord: Aylo shoved the dead Vrykul off of herself, wheezing in a breath as she snags up the single arrow from the ground. She raised the bow and drew back, her eyes clouded with pain and loosed the arrow, sending it straight into the vrykuls’ eye, stopping him from casting.

Nestevon-WyrmrestAccord: Nestevon grabs up his lost arm, using it as a wand, he swings it out so it is straight, the Palm facing one Vyrkrul who guarded the caster. Void and Fel flames spray out all over that Vyrkrul.

Taneisha-WyrmrestAccord: Taneisha stiffly rose to her feet with a huff. Her hair was a mess and the snow around her was slowly turning to crimson. "....ENOUGH OF THIS!" She screamed as the Light flared at her fingertips and her eyes shone a bright gold as she charged forward and thrust her blade through the monster's heart before tearing it out with a low growl. "Bite me, you bloody fools!" She screamed.

Otrera-WyrmrestAccord: Otrera's eyes have returned to the wards, her ears twitching forward to listen to the song of the void with unease.

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: Mourne glances up at the wards.

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: The Void onslaught continues; from the North, the winds pick up and carry... but the Shadeskorn are slain.

Galdanir-WyrmrestAccord: The arcane that shields them thins, weakening by the moment. What had been nearly half a foot thick at the start now stands at mere centimeters.

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: "194th, rally at center- we may need to evac! Argents, positions to center!"

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: The onslaught rages, roars, broils and surges from the north.

Rethandral-WyrmrestAccord: "Rally in the center!" Rethandral calls out loudly, spreading the message to others near him.

Amateo-WyrmrestAccord: Amateo takes a step forward and winces at the arrow in his side. He grits his teeth and snaps off most of the shaft of the arrow before obeying the command.

Aelitheline-WyrmrestAccord: Being told to Rally, she tries to take a step, only to drop to a knee panting. The pain in her thigh aches, causing her to need to take a moment to rest. Her blade stabbed into the snow and leaning into it as she grunted.

Nestevon-WyrmrestAccord: Nestevon puts his arm on his belt, like it was a sword. Moving towards the center.

Rethandral-WyrmrestAccord: "Up you go Dawnfury." He sheiths his blade and pulls Kiri up with his right metal arm, helping her to the others.

Bakharah-WyrmrestAccord: Bakharah grinds her teeth together as she struggles to her feet. She snaps the spear shaft off, close to her body, leaving it to be dealt with later as she moves slowly to the other.

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: "Galdanir, the portal holding Jubal- take us to the garrison courtyard if you can, go go- ARGENTS, ALL PERSONS TO THE CENTER FOR EVACUATION!"

Otrera-WyrmrestAccord: Otrera whistles for Bacon, holding out her gun to him. He smacks his fin against it, and the magic seems to get absorbed back into the weapon.

Amateo-WyrmrestAccord: Amateo does a double-take at Nest and decides his injuries aren't so bad after all.

Bakharah-WyrmrestAccord: Aylora cradles her ribs, hunched over with her bow dragging through the snow behind her.

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: Mourne calls out through the his shadows that whip through the entire garrison now. "ALL PERSONS TO CENTER FOR EVAC GO GO GO!"

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: From the North the Deluge of Souls begins to roar, to shift, to grow... to expand, clearly prepared to swallow the entire region if not somehow halted, if not stopped or stymied.

Galdanir-WyrmrestAccord: Galdanir's fingers sink into the snow. Magic crawls up his arms from the leylines below, coiling about his shoulders, his throat, all of him. The portal beneath Julbor consumes their captive. Its shores expand, a growing pool of untamed magic.

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: And our heroes begin to feel their chests tighten and strain, their vision fade-- only slightly at first, but it's sourced in the waterfall, as though their very souls already belong to the Deluge.

Tyrvarden-WyrmrestAccord: Tyr begins to murmur something under his breath--cleansing.

Aelitheline-WyrmrestAccord: "W...We're retreating?" She grunts, leaning against Reth as she is still out of breath. She feels the tightening of her chest, and panic begins to rise in her as she clutches the Bulwark at her side, now trembling. She doesn't know what's going on...

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: Whip-SNAP. The Arcane magics that Galdanir's channeling are broken and turned against him, cracking across his chest like a maul.

Amateo-WyrmrestAccord: Amateo presses a hand against his chest as if to keep whatever is inside him contained. The uncomfortable reminder of his first day here tests his resolve.

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: And still, our heroes' life essence is drawn north...

Taneisha-WyrmrestAccord: With a pained grunt, Taneisha returned with her other comrades, stumbling as she fought to keep her balance. "...Light heed me, protect us. Guide us in this darkness," she whispered, as golden sparks began to dance around her fingertips and she moved to Amaeto's side. "Steady...resist whatever this."

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: "Shields UP!"

Otrera-WyrmrestAccord: Otrera frowns. "Don't have a shield..." Bacon darts in front of her, making a soft chirrup.

Galdanir-WyrmrestAccord: The wards fall, the portal glows bright as the sun and winks out. All trace of the Arcane vanishes when Galdanir collides with the wall behind him.

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: The voice that comes now is female, and it is somehow unaffected by the wards. "You need not fear, my children... there is only one way to preserve your lives... you can heed my word or flee, and have result give way to my truth..."

Rethandral-WyrmrestAccord: Rethandral growls against the mounting dread within him. Pulling upon the Light, Rethandral forms as strong as a shield as he could for his brothers and sisters.

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: Mourne dashes over towards Galdanir.

Bakharah-WyrmrestAccord: The orc drops to a knee, keeping close to the group.

Otrera-WyrmrestAccord: Otrera tilts her head, frowning, as she pushes Bacon out of the way and steps towards the north, first one step, then another.

Nestevon-WyrmrestAccord: "The only way to preserve my life is through Ichor and thread." He'd look at the arm strapped to his belt and sigh.

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: "Come, children, and drink from the waters that shall tether."

Tyrvarden-WyrmrestAccord: The word comes simply, firmly.  "No."

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: "Then perish, and know that I will weep for your loss."

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: Mourne tries to scoop up poor Galdanir.

Galdanir-WyrmrestAccord: Galdanir doesn't stir again. Luckily, he's at least not noncompliant.

Aelitheline-WyrmrestAccord: "Heed her..." Ears twitch as she falters, looking to the group, and then towards the north. "...who's voice...?" She's so confused, and growing weary. Without Shorel'belore giving her the strength she was used to, the fighting was taking a toll on her. She didn't know how much longer she'd be able to stand.

Rethandral-WyrmrestAccord: "Do not heed this new voice of enticement and witchery. It only leads to your doom Blades." Rethandral glares and winces at where the shattered Waterfall was.

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: And Mourne carries him over to the group.

Taneisha-WyrmrestAccord: "If you think..." Taneisha began soon falling prey to a vicious coughing fit as crimson slowly trickled from a corner of her mouth before she wiped it away. "If you think we're going to fall, you're wrong!" She screamed with fire in her voice.

Otrera-WyrmrestAccord: "No, I think we should." Otrera's voice is quiet.

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: Their life essence siphons, draws as though their forms are sieved.

Aelitheline-WyrmrestAccord: "...I'm already weak. I'll take the chance...Reth, take me over."

Rethandral-WyrmrestAccord: "I will -not- take you over to that thing!"

Otrera-WyrmrestAccord: Otrera just starts walking off north. "No. I'll do it."

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: "You must all... drink... of the waters..."

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: "No, get back here."

Aelitheline-WyrmrestAccord: "Reth. I'm already weak and at this point at my limit. If this voice is right, --- no, you're a better fighter than I. If this is wrong, you lose more if you die than if I do."

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: "Come... to the Deluge... of Souls..."

Rethandral-WyrmrestAccord: "By my strength and the force of the Light, whatever fiend you are shall not claim a single Blade this day!" Rethandral shouts at this 'voice', unsure of where it was coming from beyond everywhere.

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: "Ki'var get back here before I break your legs!"

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: Now the world begins to drain of color for each of the Blades; it's all greyscale.

Otrera-WyrmrestAccord: Otrera just starts -- running off north, Bacon following her.

Amateo-WyrmrestAccord: The soul siphon and his injuries chisel away at his strength. Soon he must rely on his ranseur as a support to stay standing.

Nestevon-WyrmrestAccord: "Well, I for one could use a drink." Nestevon winks but none could see it. "I'm just joking."

Bakharah-WyrmrestAccord: Aylora clicks her comm and wheezes. "GET THE FUCK BACK HERE! THAT’S AN ORDER!"

Ishkael-WyrmrestAccord: Ish'kael looked back seeing Aylo is lagging behind.  Despite his own wounds he rushes for her, not caring about anything and picks her up.  

Aelitheline-WyrmrestAccord: Now growls and tries to push herself off of Reth, using her last of her strength to mend the wound in her leg just enough so she can run after Otrera. She's not letting that one die alone, if at all.

Mourne-WyrmrestAccord: "Right, if you can, hearth out of here, rally at the old garrison.”

Rethandral-WyrmrestAccord: "Kiri, get back here!" Rethandral staggers but follows after that stubborn woman.

Taneisha-WyrmrestAccord: Taneisha wasn't about to let Amaeto fall and she gingerly tried to settle his arm over her shoulder. "Stay up!"

Bakharah-WyrmrestAccord: Aylo lets out a pained groan as Ish'kael picks her up.

Otrera-WyrmrestAccord: "Go -back!- Take your light magic and your nice -- shiny Blood Knight tabard and go -back- where you came from!" Otrera is still running towards that waterfall!

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: As the grey deepens...

Rethandral-WyrmrestAccord: "I'm taking the two of you with me if it's the last thing I do! Your sacrifice is not worth it!"

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: The heroes make their choices…

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

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

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

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: The Deluge of Souls is an oasis of night in the storm: the river runs pure black, and white essence froths at its surface. The faint chattering of myriad voices is lost to sloshing seas and foamy, murky depths. Standing on the other side of the river is a figure impossibly beautiful and horrendously evil, such that her potency is undeniable. She wears a simple gown of black silk that matches her waist-length black hair, in stark contrast to skin pale as snow and cold as ice.

Otrera-WyrmrestAccord: "Ah-- holy shit..." she comes to a stop just before the water, eyes wide. "It's actually her." She seems a little overawed.

Rethandral-WyrmrestAccord: Rethandral slows his heavy run after the two and stares at the chaotic scene around him of the flowing river of void. His attention is drawn to the figure upon the other side of the black river and quietly mutters an oath of protection to himself.

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: Full lips curve upward in a smile. "Your friends' souls are now rent from this world; only an offering both willing and deemed worthy by the Dark One can suffice to keep them tethered to this world." She glances among the three.

Aelitheline-WyrmrestAccord: She comes to a stop behind Otrera, her hand moving for her blade once more as she grit her teeth, staring the woman down. She knows in a fight she'd be at a huge disadvantage, but she's ready to defend the Huntress. Her eyes never leave the woman, narrowed as her stance readies. She isn't going down without a fight...and she will fight to make sure the three of them get out.

Otrera-WyrmrestAccord: Otrera doesn't want a fight, or perhaps, she knows taking on the creature with her gun would be useless. She sits the weapon down in the snow, shooing Bacon away. "And there's no way to save 'em? They -left-, they're not even in Northrend any more!"

Rethandral-WyrmrestAccord: Putting a hand upon his blade, he steps to the edge of the river and calls out "There must be some other way to retain the souls of our comrades." He barks out in anger.

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: "You can drain this river and kill me," she purrs-- no, lilts, and her eyes are black chasms. "But, should you fail, all of your allies who tread these snows this eve shall perish in your foolhardy attempt. Or, you can allow a choice that has been made long ago to take place."

Aelitheline-WyrmrestAccord: "Think I'd take m'chances cuttin' you down..." She snarls, ready to charge past Reth, but she's waiting. She's searching for some sort of footing. Some sort of opening...something to give her the queue to strike.

Otrera-WyrmrestAccord: Otrera briefly contemplates whether or not that would be possible...and then realizes she's not actually sure how one would drain a river of void, and is certain that would kill all three of them. "Then what's this big huge sacrifice?"

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: "An eye for an eye," the woman says simply, hands splayed to convey honesty. "You tipped the odds one way, and the Deluge would see them restored."

Rethandral-WyrmrestAccord: Rethandral looks to both of the women behind him, then to the women before him across from the river. "If it takes a willing sacrifice to save all of the Blades from whatever doom you have placed upon them... as a Shield of my brothers and sisters, I will take that as my duty." He lowers his hand from his sword handle and plants each hand on his waist instead.

Otrera-WyrmrestAccord: "No, I-- Sunfall, you'd almost certainly lose your Light. Let me do it." She says it immediately.

Rethandral-WyrmrestAccord: "No."

Otrera-WyrmrestAccord: "Well, tough tits, because I'm doin' it."

Aelitheline-WyrmrestAccord: "Like hell will I allow that, Reth! I'm the least experienced, and the one who would be less remembered. Fuckin' let me do it. The Blades lose more if either of you fall."

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: "Only one of you is worthy," The woman says simply.

Otrera-WyrmrestAccord: "Then which one is it?" That seems the simplest question.

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: "You," the woman says simply, smiling and stretching her hands. "Come, my child, step into the river and know my name: Styxaria, Matros of the Seventh Eye."

Rethandral-WyrmrestAccord: Rethandral glowers at the two behind him, then takes his steps into the flowing black river. "I willingly offer myself to save the remaining brothers and sisters, Styxaria, Matros of the Seventh Eye..."

Otrera-WyrmrestAccord: Otrera looks at the others. "Let me do this," she says quietly. "Please. Y'all have so much, the Light -- and everythin' -- I don't have that. I just have this."

Otrera-WyrmrestAccord: Otrera is marching after Rethandral, not even waiting. Like hell she's letting him go alone. She reaches for his free hand, grabbing it in her own.

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: Styxaria extends a hand to Rethandral-- and it turns into a serrated blade, an extension of her arm that shatters Rethandral's armor and pins him to the snow; a pool of his blood forms under him.

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: "Futile," she purrs.

Otrera-WyrmrestAccord: "Ah shit--"

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: Styxaria looks up to Kiri. "Go, now, flee and tell your comrades what fate awaits the Wolf and his Pack... before you damn them all."

Aelitheline-WyrmrestAccord: She watches Reth stepping forward, her attention turning to Otrera, and then Reth. Two comrades...one she has known a while, the other she has only begun to meet tonight. Ears wither as she pictures losing them...and she doesn't want this. Her teeth grit, and a voice speaks in her mind. "Flee. Regroup...you cannot accept this." Ears twitch, and she begins to falter in her steps. She takes a step back before the sight before her, watching as Reth is run through. "Damn it..." she mutters, frozen in her spot. (Run, Kiri...) The voice tells her, and Styxaria's voice is what brings her to life. She grits her teeth, turns, and bolts.

Rethandral-WyrmrestAccord: Rethandral thumps into the snow with a gurgled gasp as the serrated blade pierced flesh and penetrated armor with ease. Gasps come as his body tries to breath and then slowly ceases. The glow of Light ever present from his right eye slowly fades out.

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: "Come, now, child." Styxaria beckons. "Descend into the Deluge of Souls, and embrace your fate."

Rethandral-WyrmrestAccord: A pale wispy soul of the one-armed night seemingly raises from the slowly cooling husk of a body, turns about to regard the two women quietly, nods, and descends into the depths of the Deluge of Souls. To what fate, who knew….

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: And now Otrera is pulled, too, willed...

Otrera-WyrmrestAccord: Otrera looks up at Styxaria, ears wilting. So many things -- so many things she wants to say. To run, back to Dazen -- she's been stupid, the fevered heartbeat in her chest tells her as much. But the world is grey and strange, and whether it's illusion or reality, the man next to her is very, very -dead-. She whistles -- one last act of defiance -- and Bacon soars in, grabbing at Rethandral's body and dragging it back towards the base, back towards helpful hands who can maybe save him. Before she glares at the Matros and marches straight into the water.

Galdanir-WyrmrestAccord: There's a high pitched whine. A sudden, mechanical hum, a bright flash of artificial light that consumes Rethandral's body from boot to brow. Mourne's teleporter is visible on the fallen soldier's chest for only an instant before gravity takes hold...pulling his body inevitably through the portal that's formed below him.

Drimmari-WyrmrestAccord: The waters of the Deluge of Souls run white, high, powerful before they give way to a single wisp-- flecked in black-- that follows Rethandral through the portal. They're a brilliant and effulgent white for several moments, and for that span Styxaria's appearance shifts-- her ears lengthen, features narrow-- before she disappears, too. Eventually, the Deluge runs black once more.