---

November 18, 1:25 AM
North Eastern Watchtower

Lawrence arrived at the wall with both of his weapons loaded. The battle had already begun as the Engineers and Fifty Eighters clashed. Lawrence raised his rifle at the head of a Fifty Eighter who had fired his shotgun into the gut of a young Tier II, the poor bastard. Lawrence steadied his aim, took a breath and pulled the trigger. The gun fired and kicked back a little, a feeling Lawrence had forgotten since he had settled back into Voldoa. The bullet whizzed past and hit the man in the left shoulder, blood and flesh erupting from the new hole in his body. Not enough. Lawrence pulled back the bolt lever and let it slide forward again to load the next bullet, he moved his aim slightly up and left and fired again, the bullet hitting the enemy in the head, rupturing the brain and skull as the body crumpled to the floor. Lawrence nodded, satisfied as he pulled back the bolt lever again and moved to the next target. A few more died by Lawrence's hand before he had to reload and move position.

He took cover behind a rock, crouching by another Engineer. "What have we got?" Lawrence asked as he slung his rifle onto his back and pulled out the revolver. "Fifty Eighters are attacking this perimeter, we need to hold it and defend it by any means necessary." The Engineer explained. Lawrence nodded in acknowledgement. "Better get shooting then." He said with a coy smirk before looking over and firing his revolver at the large mass of Fifty Eighters approaching. They needed more than this to hold them back.

---

“Well it’s… definitely safer.” Thomas replied half-heartedly, “Instead of being out there. Vulnerable to the elements. I don’t know how my father does it.”

The animate mushroom returned with the new beers. He set them aside and Coltrane happily began drinking his, as well as Marcello. It was an obscure thought, but Thomas had no idea if alcohol was even appropriate for a fungus to drink. Especially given Marcello’s continued contribution to Coltrane’s experiments, but… oh forget it, he dropped the whole thing right quick.

Thomas pushed aside his own drink, though. He didn’t want to seem ungrateful but, he hadn’t really acquired the taste for the stuff yet.

“How’s your work coming along?” He asked, moving along the conversation.

---

---

Dane passed his gaze over Lillian for a brief moment before he blurted out, "The fuck is that thing on about?"

Kantus pressed the needle against the man's skin, drawing some blood out of him. He kept it up as he spoke. "None of that is important. Answer my questions."

"I… am not, telling you SHIT, you FUCKING BIRRRRRAAAAGGGHHH-"

The needle went a little deeper.

Kantus removed it and, like before, the wound closed up. Whatever was coating the needle was making sure the man would be well sustained. To keep him going for the long run. To eventually spill everything. The Lord of Owls paused for a moment, watching Dane pant. Then he fixated his eyes on the needle, again only for a moment, before he spoke again.

"You speak with him for now." Kantus said to Lillian, tossing away the needle and heading towards the door. "I must check on the status of the conflict. I will return shortly."

He left, and then it was just the man and the fairy.

---

Speak with him? The tiny woman didn't get a chance to comment before the owl left to check on the ensuing battle. It was a subject she didn't want to think about. Sighing softly she moved and landed on Dane so he could see her better.Thankfully the man was restrained else he could crush her easily. As small as she was he would barely feel her walking closer to his face. "I'm trying to make this easier for you, Dane. But I'm not going to be able to stop them from hurting you."

Dane did not respond. He just shook his head, recovering from a short coughing fit. He reared his head back and gave Lillian a quick look before shutting his eyes, trying to rest them.

Giving him a little time she eventually continued. "I know you don't believe me. That I'm Lillian, but it's true. I left you a note about spotting some Nymphs and that I would go after them. You were my backup in case I didn't..."

"Just-" Dane cut in quickly, "Just shut yer fucking mouth, stop-" He started panting again, then he started yelling, stamping his feet repeatedly, trying to break free of his binds. After a moment, he gave up the attempt, and settled back down. He was on the verge of tears.

Empahy was never a skill of Lillian's Her job had required her to be tough as nails and to shrug off anything. Dane's tears would have prompted her to give him a quick slap to the face to snap him out of it. But fairies were keen to emotions. It drove them and guided their actions. Now she was feeling the desperation and fear of her former commander. Tears began to roll down her cheeks before his. "S-stop. I can feel it. I can feel what you're feeling and I can't take it." Covering her face with her hand she wished to block it out but couldn't. "Dane please, it hurts. It hurts... so much." Collapsing her hands gripped the cloth of his shirt, tugging slightly.

---

Kantus stepped back into the room through the corner door, happening upon Dane still seated and still, and Lillian sitting on the tray, head sunk. Both of them looked as though they’d been recovering from fits of crying. Kantus didn’t comment on the scene. He merely approached Dane and picked up another needle.

“Are you ready to answer my questions now?”

Dane let out a few more low, drawn out breaths before he slowly replied, “Check… check the bloody, fuckin’… the hat…”

Kantus turned his head towards the hat, still lying on the tray with the feather on top of it. He set the needle aside, as well as the feather, and picked up the hat. He turned it over and examined the underside of the crown. There was pouch tucked within the crease. He reached inside and poked his finger through it, pulling out a small, folded parchment. He set the hat back down and unfolded the paper, revealing an officiated map of Europe that had been covered in red lines and marks, haphazardly scattered in random areas of the continent. On the back were rows and columns of jumbled letters and diagrams.

“Encrypted.” Kantus said, looking back at Dane. He folded the parchment back up and tucked it into his coat. He stood there and just… stared at the man. He got what he wanted. Rather easily, at that. There was no need for this Fifty-Eighter anymore.

“Leave us.” Kantus said to Lillian, “You shouldn’t see what comes next.”

November 19, 1:28 A.M.
Overlook

Morgan retrieved the item he'd been searching for as he reached the blaze, seeming to release a dam as a torrent of smoke rushed from his neck, a thin coat of it covering the ground as he came upon the men still reeling from the blaze. As his hand emergeod from that pit, a large zwiehander emerging. The sword seemed splintered and spiderwebbed with cracks, a multitude of lights pulsing along the cracks, 24 shimmering bulbs all traveling an infinite loop through the steel instrument. Morgan took a moment, enjoying watching these men and women of civilization scrambling to get some semblance of order back.

In his distraction, he hardly noticed as one of Fifty-eighters raised a rifle, only broken from his revelry as the bullet glanced off his armor, focusing his sights on the man who was readying for another shot. Morgan's eyes widened slightly as he urged his steed towards the offender, raising his blade as he neared, little flourish in the move but simplicity held a primal elegance in itself. He almost pitied the man as he saw the reflexes and discipline was displayed, lifting his rifle to block the blade. His stance was practiced, the rifle placed to merely glance the blow off the instrument. It would allow him to use the momentum from the strike to angle his bayonet into the horse, while protecting his body. Truly a sign of a prodigal soldier in the making.

The Valkyries would surely welcome him with open arms.

As Morgan's blade met the man's rifle, his eyes widened in disbelief when there was no resistance from the blade, the cracks throughout the blade expanding where they met the rifle, the pulsing lights dancing where they touched the gun before continued their journey through the cracks as they reformed on the other side of the gun, Morgan's swing neatly cleaving through the man's torso, the leathers he wore offering little resistance to his blade.

Morgan's path took him a few feet placing him in the thicket of Fifty-eighters. A few seemed to finally be regaining their senses now that they had a clear target. Morgan snapped his blade to the side, cleaning the blood from his blade as it soaked one of the riflewomen nearby. He ready his blade for the next act of this battle.


________________________________________________



November 19, 1:24 A.M.
Arboretum->Walls

A deep growl issued from Garm as he was roused from his slumber, trying to see what had unceremoniously brought him to the world of the walking so soon. He raised his head as he listened in the distance, trying to stand and failing as he felt something grab his arm. Wild-eyed he looked back at the offending appendage, memories from the night before returning in a rush. Ahh yes, The young, sleeping water nymph clinging to his arm having been his latest assignment from as "A hard working Hand of the City." She had been a new addition to the city. They'd asked him to show her around, and he may have let slip there were rumors of hunters infiltrating the city, and he'd be happy to keep an eye on her if she wanted. The rest had simply been a warm welcome to the city.

Garm grinned as the nights revelries. He hadn't been lying, there was always some rumor floating around concerning some hunter or other, but Garm always found dead ends with them all. The sound of gunfire brought him back to the present, prying the sleeping girls arm from him, checking the direction of the noise as searched the meadow for his clothes. He got dressed as he walked languidly, following his ears as went to the commotion, following the wall once he hit it till he found one of the towers, staring up the steps as he debated heading up, pulling up his pants as one of the Engineers rushed past him holding a rifle in one hand and sheathing a short sword with the other. On the one hand, there was a very willing water nymph still expecting him back in the meadow, a very enthusiastic nymph.

"Damn Fifty-eighters, I swear they've more rifles than brains among 'em,"

Garm sighed as the other hand showed itself, his mission overriding the welcoming arms of a waiting nymph... "Ah well, maybe I can have her play doctor for me after tonight," he said to a confused Engineear as he began climbing the steps, "Hell knows she'll have a better bedside manner than the old bird," he finished as he threw on his shirt, though from the screams and smell of gunpowder he doubted he'd keep it long.

The mention of Fifty-eighters had peaked his interest, urging his motives that night. His informants had told him that Tarnish had been in contact with the Fifty-eight recently, if he was lucky and quick, he might have a chance at grabbing the leader and finding a location.

First, though, he had to find the leader. He rolled his eyes as he caught sight of his fellow Hand Baldwin jumping from the parpets, before making his way to the Engineer Baldwin had finished traumatizing, placing a hand on her shoulder to gain her attention, "Now, I know your a bit busy at the moment ma'am, BUT," he said, breaking off as he pulled her head down as a bullet passed overhead, continuing with hardly a pause, "I don't suppose you could grace me with a breakdown of current event, you know numbers, munitions, any leaders they might have," he said, grabbing her spinning around as another volley came by, smirking as he looked down at her, "quick as you can dear pup."

---

Baldwin's body seemed to move on its own as he snapped and sliced, stabbed and gored every Fifty-Eighter in his path. His bone-white body becoming covered with more and more red to show his efforts. There were a small group of humans that had occupied Baldwin's attentions for the time being. Armed with rifles, nothing like the torches and pitchforks of old, he felt as the projectiles pierced his form with white-hot pain assailing him as he neared the group. He gunfire was beginning to put a damper on his ability to move and fight, if he didn't end this conflict now, he would soon regret it.

He sunk his spear-like appendages into the snow with increasing speed, shifting from a slow advance into a full charge. The screams sounded out as they always did as he drove his snout into one man's chest, pushing him into the ground, deeper into the snow. He squirmed and scrambled, bashing upon the hard hide of Baldwin's snout in an attempt to escape. That is until Baldwin ground into his torso, pushing his face into the man with a chewing motion until he breached through him and emerged into the snow again. With a great heave, Baldwin lifted his great reptilian head into the sky, uttering a growl as he felt the blood running down toward his eyes and along his neck in rivulets. With a great flex of his jaw, Baldwin's mouth opened to let loose a great roar and the Fifty-Eighter split cleanly in two with a final scream.

The others stepped back, attempting to make a getaway, but with a leap Baldwin latched onto one of the fleeing men and pushed him to the ground before squeezing with his spider-like limbs. What was once a man was now a red stain in the snow as he exploded from the pressure of the great reptile-spider's vise grip. Another screamed as Baldwin's spine-like tail pierced his lung and thrashed him into one of his compatriots. Baldwin took advantage of their fallen position and drove a leg through the both of them, skewering them like a shishkebab. Only one trooper was left, cowering in the snow.

Baldwin lifted himself from the gore before looking over to the last survivor, clicking and mewling as he approached slow. The smell of fear was heavy upon this one, as it whimpered and scrambled back. It smelled of dirt, alcohol and smoke. It was a woman. He paused for a moment, massive form looming over her for a moment as she mumbled incoherently. It have him pause, but only for a moment.

"Please! Just let me g-"

He snapped down on her head, jaw unhinging to encompass her head and a significant portion of her torso with a multitude of sickening crunches. Like a dog with its toy, he shook her until she ceased her squirming and finally spat her out into the snow. His breathing was heavy and laboured from the long bout of activity. It had been a long time since he had been in any sort of physical dispute, so his physical fitness, while significantly more than the standard human, was questionable compared to his younger years.

'Was the conflict over now?' He thought as he looked around at the path of red he had carved from the walls to this point.

---

---

The gurgling and sloshing was right on top of her now and the presence of the wandering slime creature was almost stifling to act witness to. It found her behind the crates and she cowered, curling up into a ball so tight she feared she might have compressed herself out of existence. Her eyes screwed up tightly, threatening to seal shut forever. Then the voice came, and from the dark of her hood she stared out. No malevolent creature could hold such a voice so soft, so concerned. She uncurled from her fetal position and rose ever so slightly to look over the crates at her pursuer. She stank of dirt and blood and damp as she peered over her own bloodied fingers and was met with a slime-covered skull. She screamed rather loud. A warbling, reverberating sound that shook her chest and made her head ring. It was a short moment before she found herself out of breath and listening to the... female slime, talking as if she hadn't just alerted half of the city to her presence.

This creature, one of the horrors that mother had told her so many stories of, was showing what seemed like legitimate concern for her. Mother always warned of the ways of strangers, but she only ever erred caution when it came to the matters of men. Jacqueline looked down at her hands, pale skin almost covered with red and brown. The pain in her hip barked at her, as she tried to adjust her position and face the slime properly.

"I... I am hurt."

A very astute analysis on her part, as her words came slower and slower, brain struggling to find some avenue to take that would get her to safety. She fumbled and dropped her rosary, and scrabbled for it as an idea lit up in her mind. Luminous eyes stared out from the shade of her hood as she inquired to the slime, in reply to her offer for help, after all she hadn't been eaten yet so how terribly evil could this thing be?

"Is there a place that- I mean is there a certain place that brothers and sisters of the cloth are held? Those of the faith? I would like to go there."

She held out her rosary with a blackened hand. A small holy symbol dangled from the end of the chain.

"A place where this symbol holds sway. I wish to go there."

@t2wave

---

Well the hope not to scare the girl too terribly did not seem to go so well. The scream could likely be heard several town blocks away. Staying still she waited for her to stop. Raising one hand to her own face her loosely formed hands became firmer and more defined. Most of the time such a thing was not really needed or worth the effort. Anna had not quite gotten down the ability to give her form more definition for extended periods. One of her new fingers were held up where her lips would be. "Shh, it is late. Some people sleep at night." Leaning back a bit her hand became more gelatinous again.

Other than her form the slime girl did not have anything resembling eyes. Because of that it was hard to tell what she was looking at other than where she turned her head. Thankfully she still had many natural mannerisms and faced Jacqueline as she spoke. Clearly she was still frightened and was trying to gather her words. Perhaps she is new here.

Some of the things mentioned seemed to bring up vague memories. This happened from time to time she she experienced new things. Once she found that she knew how to sew after after seeing someone else making some clothing. Could that be what was meant by brothers and sisters of the cloth No, there was something much deeper to it. At sight of the rosary it seemed to click. "I know this symbol. But I do not know from whom." Someone that met their fate in the pit was part of this order. Carefully raising her hand she passed the slime over the trinket and pulled the dirt and blood off it. "I am not sure if there is such a place sister. But I am only a trash collector. I can find out though." Getting back to her feet she offered a hand to help her up. "You should find some shelter. There is a place I stay at times when I need some rest."
@Horrid

---

---

Since taking action against the Fifty-Eighters others arrived and began to clear the group. As the announcement said no one must escape else they will reveal the secret. What happened to the den will happen here. The swarm of humans would march to the drums of war and destroy everything in their path.

As more of their lives have been extinguished some began to retreat. Most were not getting far though she they were essentially surrounded. Humans were slow and were no match for many of the faster and more nimble monsters. At least not in this environment. Koarin made sure that anyone attempting to flee was cut off. They dwindled until there seemed to be none left. Making another sweep from the air she scoped out the side of the mountain.
@SepticGentleman

November 19, 1:45 A.M.
North East Gate

Morgan sighed as he saw fear (and caution overtaking the few men and women remaining, a few stray shots ringing out in the night from the retreating forms. Morgan watched, a look of unchanging disappointment as he strode through the forest after them, a few flicks of the wrist dispatching those who'd stayed back to cover the others retreat. The sharp whiny in the distant followed by a scream signaled another of the 58 being trampled by his warhorse, having dismounted early into the battle, although that may be to generous a term for this skirmish. This would be over soon, he could already see the Engineers and Hands fanning out to catch any stragglers. He could feel the lights of life going out all through the forest, and turned back to the walls of the city, shaking his head as he made his way to the gates. With it's purpose fulfilled, he returned his blade to it's resting place, a small shiver passing through his body as the lights finally entered with the rest of the blade. They had gathered at the hilt, as if running to escape the grasping tendrils of smoke swallowing the blade. The short burst of euphoria passed quickly, placing his head back, the armor dissolving into the nigh air as his familiar suit took its place. The screams seemed to be growing further between each other, he doubted it'd be an hour befo-

A loud crash broke through the night, glimpses of a bright flare seen through the limbs of trees.

Make that half an hour. He could make out the lanterns of the scavenging groups he'd asked for in the distance, the Cat-kin punctual as always when profit was involved. He'd meet with them back at the tavern later this morning. He wasn't sure how much they'd be able to get before the cities "cleaning crew" made its way through the carnage. It always surprised him how a creature that seemed to move so slow could always arrive so suddenly when needed. It didn't really matter in the end, it was all free profit whatever they pulled in.

Morgan gave a nod to the passing Engineers that were going to collect the wounded, his horse appearing with little sound beside him, the scales and bone gone now, a normal, if large, black Clydesdale idling along side him. And so another night passed in the city of Voldoa.

________________________________________________



November 19, 1:38 A.M.
North East Wall

"...nd so far as we can tell there are at least 15 in the woods, perhaps mor.." and on and on the Engineer rattled, Garm sighing as his foot beat an ever increasing beat, already regretting asking her about the battle, so far confirming only that they were under attack, and no leader had been spotted as yet. Groaning as his impatience reached critical mass, Garm's hand snapping forward as he covered her mouth. He grinned disarmingly as she stepped back, a look of dismay covering her face at the act.
"My apologies dame, but honestly, ya drivin' me up the wall," he said pulling his hand back and removing his shirt quickly and handing it to her, "so what I need from you, is to stay alive, and hold these cause I'll be needing them later," he said as he freed himself of his pants, dropping them in her arms, an affronted gasp coming from her. He gave her a grin before backing up a bit, crouching a bit, a snapping sound emanating as his limbs deformed, the ever present smirk stretching into something much more sinister, smoke escaping from the now gleaming fangs, a dull red glow quickly filling his eyes, the strange changes continuing as he took off at the wall, a small leap taking him off the wall and hurtling towards the ground, and into a storm of bullets.

____________________________________________

November 19, 1:40 A.M.
Surrounding Forest

A creature the size of a small horse raced through the forest, the glow, bypassing the forms of men and women in a single minded pursuit, a dozen or so bullet wounds oozing a black ichor, hardly slowing his chase. Frustration was taking over as he continually failed to find anything resembling a leader in this pack of fools, another dead end looming as the group was beating a retreat. He was starting to despair of any gain, but a sudden flash of red caught his attention, the only Mark of rank in this thrown together militia, and the scent of horses detectable over the constant barrage of gunfire, blood, and fear. Garm crept forward silently, observing the cart in front of him.

"I'm telling ya mate, he's fucking gone, one sec' I'm hearin' tha bastard screaming orders fer more ammo, I come back and he's gone, and everythin's gone ta hell, wit tha demons to match, we need to git ba-" the man was suddenly cut off as Garm burst from the thicket, a torrent of flames escaping from his mzzle, two more bullets tearing into him as the canvas covering the cart caught ablaze.

Garm groaned as he landed, from left leg buckling as he found himself unable to move it, the bullet having lodged itself in his shoulder, but that could wait. He turned to face the two men on the cart, only to see their retreating forms, crouching to take after them before the smell of gun powder igniting filled his nose, eyes widening as everything went white, feeling ribs crack as he slammed against a tree, the world fading from sight.

---

Jacqueline watched with wide eyes as the girl's hand washed over her rosary and lifted the filth and grime from it in an instant, returning it to its previous cleanliness. She gasped surprise quietly and drew the rosary back into the folds of her robe, into the dark and closer to her skin. This girl, she was nice. Unfortunately born a demon, but she would suffer the beast to get to safety, if that is truly what she offered. Maybe this was a sign from the lord? Maybe he had sent a messenger in disguise? How could she ever think to grasp at his workings, so far above her understanding and knowledge. And what other choice did she have? She had almost frozen to death by the time she reached the walls, and if she deigned to stay out here in the streets, she surely would not survive the night.

It was decided, before she had even met this girl-creature. She took the hand, cool and wet as it was, to help her to her feet.

"I... thank you. I am- I mean my name... My name is... Constance."

She used her mother's name, just as her mother told her. She was not about to trust someone she just met with her identity, that would be foolish. Beneath her robes, Jacqueline shifted and shifted and shifted her weight, attempting to find a comfortable standing position with her injured leg. She stood on a slant, hunched over with her hands at her stomach. Her robe hid everything but her eyes as she looked at Anna.

"Please... lead the way."
@t2wave

---

"The field reports say it's over, Master Tarblatt."

Hugo and his adjutant stood before the scene of the attack, surveying it.

"I want a detachment of any available Tier Ones and Twos to head out and make sure the surrounding area is cleaned of bodies and signs of battle."

"Yes, Master Tarblatt."

"And get me the confirmed kills and casualties report as soon as you can once that's done."

"Of course."

The adjutant turned away and began walking back towards the northeastern passageway. Hugo, however, remained. He stood there and looked at the bodies, of both Fifty-Eighters and his own Engineers. Many Tier Twos were at work collecting the bodies to be disposed of later, and tending to the wounded. A good few Voldoans who had come to assist in the defense effort were also present. He'd have to commend the lot of them for the act.

As he continued to scan the scene, an unsettling thought crept into his mind. This was perhaps the largest attack on the city ever, and he still wasn't sure if any survivors were left. In the past, they'd always been certain. But now...

He dreaded the thought of enacting the only contingency he knew of. He knew what it would mean for Voldoa and its people, human and otherwise.

In this moment, he was trapped in a cloud of uncertainty. But he knew one thing.

He had to keep this city safe.

He had to keep it hidden.

---

November 19, 1:53 AM
Northeastern proximity

Lawrence sat atop the rock he took cover behind for most of the battle, checking his rifle and loading it, holding a bullet in his mouth. That was one of the most brutal battles to be close to Voldoa, what's worse is that it was just outside the city Lawrence vowed to protect. He took the bullet out of his mouth and loaded it into a magazine before looking down, the man he just fought with laid dead with a caved in skull as a fifty eighter laid on the ground nearby with a type of weapon that had bludgeoned the engineer. Lawrence walked over and looked for any sort of identification on the Engineer. After searching his pockets he found a golden locket kept in his chest pocket. Lawrence flicked it open and found a picture on each side, a women with brown hair on one side and a young girl on the other with similar hair. Family... Lawrence sighed as he put the locket back neatly where he found it and then turned to the fifty eighter. Lawrence had to scan closely and checked vitals to see if his shot had killed the man, and fortunately the revolver bullet met it's mark. A vengeance for the Engineer. Lawrence looked up and scanned, noticing a familiar face. "Hugo Tarblatt." Lawrence commented as he walked over. "So what brings you here?" He asked. "I thought you'd be pouring over reports and statistics about the fight?"

---

"Those reports haven't exactly been made yet." Hugo responded to the young Tier... One, from the look of his badge.

Hmm.

"Off duty?" Hugo inquired. "Yes sir." Lawrence replied, "Well... I guess, not right now."

"You may wish to consider taking up your rounds again soon. Unless you would prefer to stay in the city for quite a while."

Hugo did not wait for a response from Lawrence and continued forward, further surveying the scene. The wounded were being taken back inti the city to be cared for in the proper facilities. He would remain there until his adjutant returned with the reports.

He wanted to get some perspectives from the battle's participants, perhaps from some of the Voldoans. The more he knew of the possibility of survivors, the better.

"It is good to meet you Constance. Are you new here? I haven't seen you in Voldoa before." Taking her hand gently she began to lead but stopped when she noticed that she was having trouble moving. Turning back she leaned closer. "You are hurt. Let me see, I can stop the bleeding for you. Or let me carry you there." While she spoke one of her slimes moved closer. It not taking steps it was much quieter.
@Horrid

---

It wasn't long after the fighting had ended that a small army of slimes began to move out. Their gelatinous mass unimpeded by even the wall as they slipped through cracks in the mortar. Rolling and sliding across the ground they picked up the remains and continued moving as they dissolved. For as unassuming as they appeared they were frighteningly efficient. Slow as they be swords, bullets, and bombs were of no consequence. While not winning any lans speed records movement and fire were the few advantages that humans had against the semi-sentient blobs.

It wasn't often that Anna as a whole had the chance to gorge on so many corps. Sadly some were burned or damaged but the number was sure to add to her knowledge. She probably would be questioned for anything useful attained from the process.

---

Only a couple others were caught in the retreat. The hasty and chaotic flight made it hard to tell who, if any, got away. Swooping over one of the slimes she dropped the two still living humans onto it. Their screams were quickly silenced as the slime enveloped them. As the dragon woman understood the living ones held the most information. Not staying for the helpless struggle she flew back out once more.

But the darkness did not give up its secrets. However she did spot Garm fallen by a tree. Making her way down she retrieved him and brought him back to the wall. His wounds were pretty serious. It would hurt, but the bleeding needed to stop. Her clawed hand began to glow and became heated. Placing it against where the bullets entered she cauterized the wound. Might as well have placed a hot iron against the skin.
@The Fox Without

---

Ten minutes had past. She could essentially feel that her gave up, at least for the moment. Looking up at him she could see it his eyes. No matter what she said or did he wouldn't believe her. Lillian? No, she was a monster. There was no way she would believe anything that she was saying either. Hitting an emotional wall she left the room quietly.

Huddling in a corner she held her knees. This body, she still wasn't used to it. Everything was huge in relation to her size. How she actually looked she still had yet to see. Noticing a mirror she got up and lighted near it. All her strength was needed just to tilt the reflective surface down. Finally giving she fell briefly before getting back up. What she saw was inexplicable. She was unlike anything she'd ever seen. The sensations she felt during her transformation came back to her.

Her life was over. Leaving wasn't an option. Outside she was alone and would be killed by her own people. But even here, if people found out who she was, what she did, they wouldn't hesitate to kill her either. Kantus promised her asylum. But her life was in his hands.
@SepticGentleman

---

The door clicked open and Kantus stepped out of the room. Behind him, the faint glimmer of a lit furnace lingered, until he shut the door and locked it. His neck was stretched outward and unfurled, displaying his gaping mouth full of jagged teeth, all covered in blood. His eyes didn't appear as big as usual, as if they'd shrunk some.

And he had this unnerving, subtle twitch about him.

He passed by Lillian and approached one of the utility sinks. He turned the water on, craned his neck forward, took a rag, and began individually washing each of his teeth of the Fifty-Eighter's blood.

This carried on for a couple minutes. Once he was done, he slowly retracted his maw, ruffled his feathers a bit, and brushed his attire. His eyes returned to their normal size, and the twitching ceased. Looked as though he hadn't laid a hand or tooth on anyone.

He passed by Lillian once more, but this time, he spoke to her in a bit of a hush.

"You should rest."

---

"Get him over to me!" Martin yelled, a certain quality to his voice that turned heads in his direction and demanded authority and respect. Nessa herself was stunned, Martin was never this... authoritative about his work. Not too far away a few engineers were assisting three others who seemed badly injured. One far more so than the others. "Nessa, help them out moving him over here." he stated, moving off to his left to gather a blanket from other passing engineers. As the badly injured man was placed in front of him on the large blanket. The man's leg was in terrible shape. He had caught a bullet at the knee. The leg would never function without terrible pain again.

Martin used one of his long thing fingers to cut off a corner of the blanket, and then wrapped it around a stick. Then he passed it to Nessa. "Have him bite down on this. Then come back around to his leg. I'm going to need your help." he said. He then lifted his eyes to one of the engineers from earlier, who had returned from the medical evac. [color-ebebd2]"You! Come around to his head and hold it. If he starts struggling, pacify him."[/color] he said.

Nessa moved around to the man's head, and motioned for the other engineer to kneel down and hold his head upwards by resting it on his lap. The man was in shock, it was easy to tell based off of the glazed look in his eyes. But he was alive and looking around. She carefully opened his mouth for him and placed the cloth wrapped stick in. "Bite down on this." she said as calmly as she could. She was freaking out internally. She had never seen or done anything like this before. However, Martin seemed to work well under stress and knew what he was doing. He did work for Kantus after all. "Wait, what are you-" the other engineer began to say, only to be silenced by a glare from Nessa herself. She then moved back around to her friend's side.

"We'll need to amputate it. Then cauterize the wound." he said simply. With his finger he cut off another strip of cloth and tied one end around a stick, then wrapped it around the man's injured leg and began to turn it. The man cried out at the pain as the cloth tightened painfully around his leg, but was held down by the other engineer. There was a silence for a moment as Martin held the tourniquet before grabbing Nessa's wrist and placing her hand on it. There were no words exchanged, she knew to hold it tight.

Martin then went to work. With the sharp side of his finger he began cutting around the man's knee, avoiding the bone of the femur but going through the muscle and tendons of joint like a knife through butter. The man screamed bloody murder, foam rising from his mouth. His cries sounded around their area and no doubt beyond it. "Shut him up!" Martin yelled, prompting the engineer to wrap his arm around the man's neck and begin to choke the man until he passed out. Soon his cries fell silent, but his body still needed to be restrained. There was a sickening sound as the man's leg hit the ground- departing from it's body forever. With his free hand Martin pushed it off to the side. "Nessa, give me your other hand." he said, causing the demon to offer the hand that wasn't being used to hold the tourniquet together. Her palm lit up red hot as she drew from her powers and Martin grabbed her wrist, burning the flesh of the stump to prevent him from bleeding to death. The terrible smell of burning flesh enshrouded the three.

"Hold the tourniquet, I'm going to remove the rag from his mouth." he said, prying open the unconscious man's jaw and removing the stick and rag, along with any splinters that had broken off from him biting down on it. "On the count of three, we're all going to lift him and get him to the medbay. I'll get his legs. You two get under his arms." he said as he walked around and took hold of the tourniquet from Nessa and lifted his other good leg. Nessa, seeing this as her prompt, took her place at the man's torso.

"Watching his head. Three... two... one... lift."

Another man's life was saved that day.

November 19, 1:48 A.M.
Northeastern Proximity

A rolling growl like thunder in the distance issued from Garm's throat as he was somewhat violently brought back to consciousness, aware only that someone was jabbing what felt like a rather large, burning sensation. The memories of the night came rushing back with the various aches and pains of his little romp in the forest. His last memory was the sight of the fifty-eighters rushing into the night as a barrel of gun powder blew in front of him. Panic tried to take grasp as the thought of the 58 taking him prisoner, eyes snapping open with a blazing red light as a feral look crossed his face, lunging clumsily free from the grip of whoever held him, shoulder throbbing in protest from the movement. He released a gout of flame at the form that held been holding him. The few short moments as the flames licked the form within gave Garm a moment to calm down, noticing his surroundings as his eyed dulled to a light glow, seeing himself surrounded by Engineers looking at him with a look of horror, sighing as he looked at the burning figure. He started looking about for an exit plan as he waited for one of the Engineers to make a move towards him. The sight of something moving in the flames grabbed his attention as they died out, laughing in relief as he recognized the creature. He'd been lucky this time.

"Ello there Koar*, sorry 'bout lighting ya up there," he said sitting on his headquarters and looking about, "don't suppose you'd seen a cute lil' red headed dame carrying a pile o' clothes have ya," trying to finder the Engineer he'd left his clothes with. He was doing whatever he could not to look at the now cuaterized bullet wounds, dreading the thought of having Kantus open them back up to dig out the bullets . He could see Horace taking reports and doubted it'd be long before he'd have to talk to him, but he felt no rush to give his report.

*pronounced like core

As the one she was carrying came to he struggled briefly before breaking away. The first response was unexpected but inconsequential. Flames surrounding her she simply stood in it for a time before stepping forward. Garm had by this point regained his senses and addressed her. "It's fine, Garm. Flames are my element as you know." Glancing at Horace she started that way. "Even though the humans are slow and weak you cannot underestimate their craftiness and tenacity. My kind made that mistake and we all suffered dearly." Her gaze was distant for a moment before she huffed some heated air.

As established Horace was gathering reports. Approaching Koarin folded her wings behind her. "I caught two more attempting to escape down the mountain. My sweeps didn't find anyone else." This kind of activity the dragon woman had tried to put behind her. Sadly it was ultimately a fool's dream to believe that she, a fighter of many years, could just hide from the onslaught. Voldoa was likely the last stronghold for them. There was no way that they could avoid conflict forever.
@SepticGentleman@The Fox Without

---

There was not a deep enough corner for her to hide in. The fairy didn't know what to do and simply sat there. What intense emotion coming from the other room eventually ended. Was it over? Did he pass out? Turning around at the click of the door the sight of Kantis caused what little hope she had to die. Her heart dropped into her stomach. Dane was gone, eaten by the witching creature before her. Her senses dulled followed by a ringing in her ears. The instinct to run was overpowered by shock. Gazing into space she barely heard the mention of rest.

It did however sound like a good idea. Crawling out of her hiding place she attempted to stand but her legs or wings didn't have the strength. The smell of blood finally hit her and it was revolting. Not familiar with her new biology she was suddenly introduced to a particular detail. Meat was not on the menu and the smell of blood made her sick. Heaving a couple times she lost what little nuts and berries her kin had given her. Rolling to the side she whimpered a bit before bursting into fun on tears. Broken described her current state well. Exhausted she slowly drifted off to sleep while whispering to herself. "Wh...why? K-Kantis please..."