[i]"My name is simply Ceann, your grace. I came here because the wandering way I lead has brought me here and because a great injustice and tragedy has befallen you and this realm, if we can assist with that, we will."[/i] --Ceann, Page 2. [b][center]Amazonia Imperiia[/center][/b] The two Amazonian women look at each other momentarily, a pair of sly smiles exchanged between them. An outsider challenging them? Amusing. One of them, however, was confused by the joke. The one on the left quietly whispers, asking what a gun was. The one of the right shakes her head. [b]"Boomstick, Elyssa. Point at someone, pull trigger, violent death. Slavery scum are fond of them."[/b] Elyssa nods, getting it after it was described to her. Between the two, she was the younger and shorter one, only inching in at five foot eleven inches, unusual for most Amazons who usually exceeded six feet in height. Still. There was no barrier for her as she stepped forward to take up Ethyssa's challenge. [b]"I accept your invitation. Mira, weapon."[/b] Mira, her older compatriot, smirked as she brushed past Ethyssa to get a small buckler and staff. She purrs in appreciation. [b]"You're a strong woman. Most who come from the outside are not so... Toned."[/b] Having grabbed both articles, she proceeds back to Elyssa, handing her the buckler and staff. Elyssa wears the buckler over her left arm, and wields the make-shift spear in such a way as to indicate being left handed. She was likely used to fighting solo; it meant that fighting in formations would require her back to be facing another's back, a weakness in most situations for spear formations. [b]"The first move is yours, since you issued the challenge."[/b] Elyssa says with a small smile. Between the two she also seemed to be the calmer type, again, unusual for an Amazonian. ----- [b]"WHAT?!"[/b] One of the guards exclaims in great anger. The two guards look at each other before nodding. [b]"I will investigate this personally."[/b] The one on the left remarked as she grabs her spear tightly in her hands and leaves the pair to investigate. That left one guard at the tent. Luckily for Kraith, the spar that was about to begin and the diplomatic dealings had the attention of nearly all the remaining Amazons, meaning that aside from the three standing outside the queen's tent and the two inside the princess' tent, nobody else was around. Nobody at all. How convenient... Almost too convenient. ----- [b][center]First Blow[/center][/b] Thailen, being the first to act, was the first to the top of the hill. The quick ascent through the fog went undisturbed save for two things: The sight of the undead gecko just ahead of her, almost seeming to lead the way, and the sounds of a small battle just ahead. A few seconds further into the fog and she was near the top of the hill, the fog breaking away for a few hundred feet in each direction to reveal a rather depressing sight. Atop the hill was a large, dead oak tree, upon which hung the recently slain corpse of yet another Liverian witch hunter to a magical tether that was likely made to prolong her suffering. Her gaunt expression and very thin frame however suggest that the life was drained out of her, the only identifiable thing left being her short blonde hair... Luckily for Thailen and the others, however, a few feet away, a [url=http://i.imgur.com/GyL6xez.jpg]woman[/url] rolls into view, and instantly matches the descriptions given for Wren Vesper. Though she had lost some of her youth and was and breathing hard, the strewn corpses of several undead much like the ones they had fought earlier at least indicated that age had not dulled her senses, or her blade, which shimmered with a dark and unholy light. Wren spots the group and manages to give an affirmative nod before rolling out of the way of something large, and fast... Something Thailen would recognize instantly from her Liverian background: A Gargoyle. A piece of inanimate stone brought to life and given organic form, though with a tough outer shell that mimics the appearance of organic looking skin. Not invincible, but very tough to kill, it would require coordinated effort. This one in particular had a set of vicious looking fangs, likely implanted by the Lich after the fact to make it a more effective killing machine, despite the pain it was likely in every moment with how they protruded from its mouth. Even as its heavy wings beat with enough force to flatten the grass several feet underneath it, its attention turned momentarily to the new arrivals. With a bone chilling voice, it breathes out one sentence: [b]"More skin to sew unto my glorious frame..."[/b] Behind Maher, he would hear the now familiar shambling of the three undead. It seemed that whatever had stopped them from continuing their attack had ceased, though thankfully they weren't too fast, it wouldn't be long before they caught up and got into the fight. Thus, if they chose to fight quickly, they could, with great risk, potentially take the gargoyle down before being attacked again by the three remaining undead. If not, well... It could get interesting.