Leonidas took a moment to breath as the Orc forces turned to retreat looking back over the walls Leonidas gave out a cheer before taking a moment to focus on his broach holding it in his hand while bowing his head and closing his eyes almost as if he was in prayer. "North walls under control. Enemies retreating. How are other fronts? Where am I needed next?" he sent the message to the linked stone that Balthazar carried. "Sewers are secured. West Gate almost under control. Sent Acrius and one other to East Gate for assistance. Return to War Room or East Gate." the reply soon came. Raising his head Leonidas turned to Zatana and Naysein "Things are going well, Zatana, Nan two have done enough, feel free to head back to the keep to rest." He said to the two trying to give them a warm smile. "I'm going to go reinforce the Eastern wall and ensure we make it through this last push." He said before turning and making his way to the eastern gate.

Leonidas would stay on the walls for his trip watching and looking at the enemy forces in the area. Leonidas' presence was quickly realized as he approached as guards announced his approach and a quick boost of morale was felt amongst the troops. A quick survey of the battle showed things were going well for the most part except for the pesky troll at the gate. And although Manald was doing a great job at distracting the troll from destroying the gate the troll's regeneration was keeping him from finishing the creature off. Leonidas quickly commanded the guards to ready a pot of boiling oil. As things were getting prepared he looked out. "Manald, Faira you have done enough we will take it from here! Retreat!" Leonidas yelled out to the two on the ground as the final preparations for the oil were finished. As soon as Manald was clear of the troll the oil would be pored onto the troll as well as a pair of ropes being dropped from the walls giving the two on the ground a way back to the wall. "Acrius hit him with a fire arrow!" Leonidas then shouted the order pointing at the troll flailing in pain from the oil. With the troll hopefully dealt with Leonidas would pick up a bow and help cover Faira and Manald's escape.

The fight went well, more so than he had hoped. Rudolph quickly cut down another goblin just before he found himself coughing and recoiling due to an unbelievable stench, a gas of sorts curling its way around the ground for a brief moment before dissipating, soldiers and goblins alike were caught off guard by this. Rudolph then heard the voice of the so-called goblin warchief, it had survived the skirmish, and now intended to flee.
"Shoot the warchief! Don't let it escape!" Rudolph barked toward the few ranged soldiers that stood away from the fighting. A few shots were sent, but to no avail. Damn he thought as he witnessed the creature escape.
Turning back to the fight, the majority of the goblins had been slain, and some of them were attempting to escape also, but these few had less of a chance compared to their master. For the most part, it was over. Rudolph soon gathered a few soldiers with him as they went about cutting down the hooks.

Rolling an orc's corpse over the wall, Zatana retrieved her dagger as the body dropped. Wiping the blood away with a bit of cloth she had cut free from a dead guardsman the dark elf watched as the orcs were chased from the walls. The men about her cheering their victory, though Naysein's song wore off and the reality was simply put before them. War was messy. It was brutal, and the bodies of friends, relatives were scattered about before them with grievous wounds in various stages of dead or dying. Bodies were being carried from the wall, wounded men helped to where their wounds would be tended to, those who didn't see the horror took trophies. Had these orcs been of any real note, Zatana might have joined them. There was nothing wrong with a trophy to remember a worthy enemy or to take proof of the kill.

Moving to shadow the Prince, the dark elf arched a brow as the paladin called the bard elf 'Nan'. An odd familiarity if she was any guess. Though her brows snapped together with a glower from the shadows of her cowl when the Prince suggested they return to the keep to rest. Did the boy listen to nothing? Her only task was to keep him alive and well and now he was running off into more danger! Exasperated and feeling as though she understood her grandfather's dislike for excitable people, Zatana bounded along the wall after the Royal Prince. Sliding her daggers into their sheaths, she watched as the Manald was savaging a troll. Drawing her bow form her back, she snatched a few arrows from a guardsman as she passed the soldier. Her bow quickly drawn as she perched on the battlements and took careful aim at the troll. Firing when she thought she could without hitting the wolf-man and to cover his potential retreat. Absently she hoped the wolf would hear the 'oil' part of Leonidas's plan.

“After you,” Drana thanked her god that they were leaving this somewhat awkward encounter. She made her way to the battlefield with Acrius without speaking. She was deep in her own thoughts, wondering how she was going to play off being in the sewers of some far off city without having to explain the ‘undead’ issue.

Her brief respite had done her well physically, but magically she only had her domain to rely on. If she used her staff too much she would risk permanently draining some of the crystals. Best to keep it to one more arcane spell. The rest would need to be cantrips or spells she could cast without the need of the staff.

It was no sooner than they had arrived that the prince himself made an appearance. Drana was so obsessed with tending to wounded men on the wall that she failed to notice the importance of the matter. She made her way to Acrius, seeing that he was one of the few archers with enough stamina to sustain fire. As the pot of boiling oil was prepared she made her move. Touching Acrus’ shoulder, she commanded her magic. “Nomag dout cha'sid qe steady lae wux regipre wer irlym vi marfedelom persvek ixen.” No sooner than she had finished speaking than the arrow Acrius had notched radiate in an unnatural fire that did not harm him. His hands glowed with a faint green wisp, and steadied significantly.

Drana kept her hand on Acrius shoulder, concentrating to keep the spell active. She was relieved to hear a voice other than her own command Acrius to fire his arrow. If they could end this troll then she could see to the wounds of any who were here. More importantly, she would be finished casting spells. She was tired, she had not had to cast this many spells in a single day since she had completed her training.

Acrius' continuous barrage helped whittle down the hordes. The boy, as usual, targeted the goblins that were in critical positions or were easy pickings. His barrage would continue on for tens of minutes before he stopped to take in the battlefield and stop for a breath. The battle was theirs, the winds shifted in their favours and, as such, it was only a matter of time before the Bergkoff military won over the invading army. The Crowned Prince soon appeared on the Eastern Front, suggesting that the other Fronts were likely under control or won.

Leonidas' familiar voice rang throughout the walls with a singular command;

"Acrius hit him with a fire arrow!"

Orders were orders, after all. It was just another order from the crowned prince, though he couldn't hide his grin. His arrow suddenly ignited with an odd flame as Drana touched his shoulder and whispered a spell. The unsteady shaking of his bow-arm came to a halt as a green wisp encircled his tattered glove, it was another one of Drana's unusual spells. It helped his aiming greatly- odd yet welcome all the same. The orange-eyed boy nodded at Drana in thanks. "MANALD!" Acrius' own voice rang throughout the battlefield, "Careful not to get your fur singed."

With held breath the nock was released from the string and the arrow flew. It whistled sharply as it cut through the air and shallowly pierced the troll's skin; the oil ignited and the flame crackled and slithered throughout the troll's body as it engulfed it wholly. It wailed in pain and fruitlessly tried to pacify the flames.

With that, his task had been completed. Acrius continued firing into the hordes but glanced back at the Cleric, " 'ppreciate the help, Cleric Drana," He said, recognizing how weaker she appeared to be, "Though it may not be my place to say, you best take a rest. Can't have your order blame Bergkoff, right?"

Co-GM IC:

West Gate

---

The stinking cloud soon dissipated, leaving both sides to see the aftermath. Without their commander, the Honor Guard was disorganized. As skilled as they were, they simply cannot withstand an assault like this. They quickly fall to the combined efforts of Rudolph, Merik, the guardsmen, and the marksmen. The end of the battle is marked by half-hearted cheers-- most men present are simply too disoriented and revolted by the stench that still permeated the battlefield. Nothing a thorough bath won't fix, however.

Thankfully, the goblins are now in full retreat. With no sign of their Warchief, and no more siege weapons or grappling hooks present, it is safe to assume that the attack here has been fully repelled! As men begin to count the wounded and dead, a silence sets upon the battlefield. Now, all there is to do is to report back to the War Room.

East Gate

---

As Faira dealt with the Goblins in front of the gate, Manald leapt towards the Troll, his claws digging deep into the giant's eyes. With the troll now blinded, the beastman manages to hear reinforcements arrive, the Royal Guard sprang into action. The creature shouted in pain as it fumbled around without sight, which let Zatana cover Manald's retreat. Now clear of the area, this allowed Leonidas to pour boiling oil upon it without much issue. Drana's magic helped empower Acrius' aim, and Acrius dealt the finishing blow, his flaming arrow setting the oil alight like a giant wick. The troll screamed in agony as it was immolated, its natural regeneration simply not fast enough to counteract the fire. The giant collapsed on the ground, now thoroughly dead.

With their champion felled, the Goblins that remained quickly moved to retreat. The men on the walls cheered-- they had won the day! If the Prince and his retinue were here, then that must have meant that the battles on the other fronts have been cleared, too! Perhaps they could see the end of this siege and return to their lives sooner than they thought. Perhaps now, with the battle completed, they could rest for the day.

Time to report to the War Room.

So that was it...

The troll ? Burning to his well-deserved death!
The goblins ? On the run, leaving behind countless instances of dead comrades!
Himself ? Tired and plagued with the uneasy knowledge of this fight having had its close calls. This could have ended in other ways, too.

The lycanthrope, now lacking prey and the need to fight, felt the animalistic aspect draining and fading away. He did not even try to hide somewhere before shifting back, but just delayed the action long enough to be certain that none of the enemies would turn around and backstab him while the process took place. Many soldiers, albeit having fought for the whole time, still had the necessary energy to watch with great interest as bones turned and twisted, flesh shrunk and skin adjusted to wrap tightly around a much smaller body. It probably had been a good decision to shift back while still on the ground in front of the wall for the ropes that had been lowered from it looked like they were designed for humans, not for Manald.

Halfway naked, the man retreated into the guard's tower just like he had done when shifting into his wolf form. He had stored his clothes there and had not the slightest interest in losing them to the logistics of the city guard. Manald decided to put the insignia of the royal guard on open display this time. Some of the soldiers had laughed at him just before the battle had begun. Would they be laughing, still ?

He decided against finding out today and opted for getting some rest and nourishment instead. His stomach reported some goblin meat that must have found its way past his throat during the battle, but neither was goblin meat of particularly good quality nor was it enough in this instance. During the fight, Manald's priority had been to just bite his enemies to death. Anything more than that had been a mere accident! The lycanthrope trodded past the riflement and onto the steps leading down the wall and into the city. He did so more dragging his feet than lifting them properly, seemingly being either very tired or just not feeling the need to pay attention to things like this. The truth was he was both.

In the barracks, Manald dropped into his bunk right away.

The battle was dwindling to a halt. The monster's ranks were retreating in a disorganized and messy fashion- if you could call it that. It was more of an 'every man for themselves' ordeal; the goblins stomped and pushed each other aside with no reservations for their fellow goblin. Acrius scoffed at the rather pathetic sight; they didn't even bother defending themselves and were on a full on retreat. The swordsman's fingers were red and raw and he could feel it pulsate with each passing moment. Acrius hadn't stopped firing after the troll had been doused in fire; he had almost gone through three quivers since his arrival. With an exhale slumped his body against the battlements as he dropped his bow.

Acrius' eyes caught the Prince and Zatana at the walls. "Prince Leonidas!" He called out in an unsightly manner, still in his sitting position, "I figured you should meet Cleric Drana." He would stick around for the introductions before reporting to the War Room as he still did feel a sense of responsibility for Drana. That and Acrius felt like he should be around her with how Bergkoff military had treated his fellow 'royal guard', he wasn't certain how they would react to a complete stranger in their walls. He was glad that he actually informed Balthazar, knowing the old man, he would do something about it.

The orange-eyed boy also figured that Drana being introduced and acquainted with Leonidas was the best course of action or, atleast, not the worst course of action he could think up. Acrius silently cursed Balthazar for putting him up to this; he definitely wasn't the type suited for this sort of thing.

Zatana studied the battlefield below the wall from her perch. The swaths of the dead were pilled high as the dunes along the Dread Coast, tossed by the tide of battle. Soon soldiers would go below and sort the living from the dead. The enemy and friend. One would be giving a proper burial, the other? A pyre was likely. The dark elf sighed and tried to ignore the reek of burnt troll. They smelled foul in life, in death it wasn't much better. Zatana was of the opinion that burnt troll smelled worst of all. Turning back the wall, content that Manald was within the safety of allies she studied the strange woman with Acrius. A very light woman, she looked to have been marred by the fighting.

They were all marred by fighting, Zatana amended to herself. She was hardly unscathed and Acrius looked in dire need of a rest. Though from the title Acrius gave her, the woman was a cleric. A welcomed thing in this bloody mess. Stepping from the merlon, the dark elf moved to a less conspicuous position where she had a full range of the battlements and could easily move to cover Prince Leonidas if it was needed. 'Merely because the battle is won, does not mean my guard should be let down. Was I an assassin I would wait until the enemy was assured of his victory and then strike.' She was an assassin, a spy. It was her job to think like an enemy and thus keep the Crown Prince of the Empire of Man alive and well. Two crotchety old men would rip her to pieces if she failed after all. Stringing her bow, Zatana put the weapon back it its place and checked her knives. Loosening them in their sheathes in case she needed to intervene. Though, as she studied the healer, it appeared the young woman looked tired and thus less of a threat. Of course, it was best to never assume anything other than everything was a lie.

Zatana spared a quick glance towards their fleeing foes. She wanted to go after them, strike the head of the snake from the body. Her own fight, however, had ended that thought. There was no point in sending a tired assassin to assassinate and thus make a mess of things. She already had her minute by jumping off the wall. There was no need to further stain her reputation by getting herself thrown into a goblin's stew pot.

Merik Roak

---

The enemy was in full retreat their chief dropped some foul liquid and ran in the chaos. Merik was quick to close his nostrils but kept going in his primal state. Few goblins escaped him his rage still burning and his teeth still chomping black blood dripped from his jaws and covered the front of his armor. Finally the beast could breath as the cloud dissipated.

His deep breaths helped to calm him down as the few stragglers were either killed or ran off back to the forest. Slowly the large lizard sat down on the stone wall his head easily able to see over it. The soldiers cheered and the goblins disappeared. Triumph slowly turned to exhaustion and dreary quiet. The humans now had their dead to take care of even Merik still had a couple jobs to do. Slowly he stood and stretched, the injured were being cared for or taken away and the able began to pick up bodies and debris.

The goblin bodies were unceremoniously thrown off the wall while the humans were lined up along the sides of the streets. Merik knew that the humans took special care of their dead and he knew to be respectful of it. Even if to him what was dead was dead and the spirit was gone leaving just meat and personal effects. The Lizard folk retrieved his sword from the wall making his way down towards where one of the large stones had landed nearby. The area it hit was damaged but he was able to roll the stone up to the gate and leave it against it. He only did this with one more stone as a way to help brace the door.

Either out of fear, exhaustion, or respect he no longer heard the men whisper about him they simply made way for him. It was an effect he had seen happen to many other humans who doubted him then fought alongside him. Action and honor spoke volumes more than some royal sigil ever could, as Acrius would say, seeing is believing. Merik still didn’t quite understand what was meant by it but was able to grasp the basics.

He lingered for a little while longer at the gate to assist with moving fallen debris or move the wounded. Only calling out to his friend after most of the dust had settled and the sounds of distant fighting turned to silence. “Ruduf, Merik go check rest of wall. Merik see you again later.” With a wave the Lizard trotted off down the wall looking for any trouble along the way. He might have been tired, sore, and he was sure that at least some of this blood was his but he kept going. with a full belly he showed off his immense stamina and desire to continue the fight. As he jogged off toward the south end of the town.

Drana smiled the entire fight. She was a cleric that constantly met the battlefield with an open mind. While she was not happy for the death that surrounded her, it was an involuntary action that had been picked up among the fields of dead that were often trying to kill the living. She did not realise that she was smiling. The only escalation she had seen was Manald’s savagery upon tangling himself with a troll. She made a note to find him later and make sure that he was not hurt.

Drana felt eyes fall on her as Acrius introduced her to the prince. ‘So this is the man I have heard so much about.’ Drana’s demeanor was unchanged by her fatigue. Blood covered her clothing in a red and black mess that sullied her holy garments and fair skin. Her staff remained pristine, absent of any sign it had been on the battlefield. “Prince Leonidas,” Drana did not bow, but she instead inclined her head slightly. “It is an honor to meet you on the field of battle as an ally.” The drain on her stamina was catching up with her, and she wanted to inform the prince of who she was and where she came from faded quickly. Hunger gnawed at her belly and sleep called her by name.

Drana felt the subtle pull of her domain’s magic as her two knights, Gordon and Stephan, wished to return to the world she was in. Drana straightened herself in front of Leonidas. “I have fought with Acrius beneath the city and here on its walls. I am the Sacred Order’s Cleric of the Dead.” She used a full title, unsure if the prince knew the weight that it carried. In truth, Drana did not understand the weight it carried herself.

“Forgive me, but I must find my knights. I will meet you for a proper introduction in the war room after I-” She hesitated, briefly forgetting that most people assumed her clerical art to be necromancy. With quick thinking, she feigned being tired. Her smile softened with embarrassment and she laughed awkwardly. “I need a nap after this.” She said with her usual informal candor. She needed to find a quiet place to bring her knights back from the aether. With a second dip of her head Drana turned and started for the path down the wall. She needed to ‘find’ Gordon and Stephan before she returned to the war room. She needed their help to explain why she was here, as well as who she really is. Though more than that, she feared for her own skin without their protection.

She was too tired to realize just what she had done.

Leonidas stayed on the battlements directing the men until the goblin forces were out of range. It was only after their retreat that Leonidas would let himself rest a little. He took a little time to check his wound from earlier making sure he didn't end up opening it again since his bit of patch up healing. "I should of really payed more attention when they were teaching us those healing magics instead of just how to use magic to hurt others more..." he thought to himself as Acrius came up to him with a woman whom Leonidas had never seen before. Although she was introduced as a Cleric she moved with an air of nobility which in itself was a bit of an oddity many born into a noble house wouldn't adopt the practices of a Cleric willingly. Even the way she greeted the prince was reminiscent of the way many nobles had in the past so he assumed she must have some noble blood and greeted her in kind, "The Honor was mine Lady Drana, due to your help our young Acrius was able to quickly fell that troll." He said to her with a grin complimenting her help, although he knew full well Acrius could of used his own magic to light the arrow he wasn't going to bring it up now especially seeing the shape she was in currently. After mentioning her knights that were lost in the sewers Leonidas gave his dismissal letting the cleric go on her way and even offered Acrius as a guard to her until she found her knights if she wanted or needed. After that Leonidas would return to the war room with Zatana following behind. "I don't know if I'm ready for the chew out from Balthazar about getting injured, even if it is just a little scratch... You want to talk to him first?" He said to Zatana in a joking matter as they walked back to the Keep.

As the day went on there were more waves of attacks, nothing nearly on the scale of the morning's attack and after giving the members of the Royal guard an adequate amount to rest they were cycled to the points of battle to help keep the balance in the defender's favor. All in all by the end of the day men were tired and worn out moral was good because of the victories but wavering as it seemed these orc and goblins had unending numbers. The fear and unease was what plagued Leonidas and Balthazar the most so the two decided to work out a deal with the Duke. It wasn't long until what was normally the trade square was abuzz with life, Leonidas and Balthazar were able to convince the Duke to roll out the fine wine and ale he had been storing in the keep and open it up as a means to thank and celebrate with the men. The commotion had also brought out some of the food merchants and even common folk and amidst this siege there was a celebration within the city.

Leonidas sat at a table among the guards with an ale in his hand. Although he wasn't in his full battle regalia he still wore a light suit of armor as "you could never be to careful" or so Balthazar had told him while Leonidas' arm was being patched up. But he drank with his men on this night not above them as their prince but with them as a warrior. The square itself had been quickly decorated and aside from the impromptu bar that had been set up multiple food stands had also made their way around the square providing food and drink to any who wanted to partake. Naysein had found herself a few competent musicians and was using her talents to provide song for the party singing tales of heroism and bravery lightening the mood.

Following the clean upon the walls, Rudolph would soon enough help out with the moving of the dead, dying and wounded, despite being relieved of his position on the wall to go and get rest.
He noticed the big lizardman leave the battlements, and gave a simple wave and nod toward him.

A couple of hours pass before Rudolph accepts his fatigue, and gives in. Along the way to the barracks, he bumped into Fullar, who apparently had been wounded during the siege. "Hey Rudolph." the man nodded somewhat disgruntled. "They finally got you eh?" Rudolph replied, somewhat teasing.
"A bit of armour would of helped ya." he followed smirking.

"You know I fight better without it." Fullar scoffed. Rudolph chuckled and gave the man a pat on the back, "Just be careful you silly bastard." he finished before turning to continue onward. Fullar simply waved him off as he did.
Rudolph managed to get some rest, but decided he'd join the festivities, he could do with a break.

The event itself, albeit last minute and cobbled together, was actually fun. A rare side of Rudolph came out at occasions like this, where instead of his usual grumpy exterior, he is now open and welcoming. Some of the soldiers that knew of him and his reputation were taken aback by his sudden change of persona. He spent much of the time sharing stories and jovial banter.
Though Rudolph had finally relaxed, he was partly still on edge. He occasionally looked around him and watched as people went about their business. He was expecting there to be some sort of orc surprise attack, or something else entirely that he had to watch out for.

-=Somewhere inside the walls of Bergkoff=-

A group of 9 hooded individuals gather on an empty side street. "Alright everyone has there targets correct?" One of the individuals said to the group and a second spoke up. "Why are we helping orcs? What is the master thinking." A second spoke up and was quickly hushed. "Don't question the master's wishes just do your job." The first snapped back. "Alright if no one has any real question then move out." A third spoke up. And the group quickly broke up into four groups. Two groups of two took to the roofs heading to their targets while the remaining 5 individuals broke into a group of 2 and a group of 3 each moving in different direction through the city.

Zatana watched 'Sacred Order's Cleric of the Dead', a very interesting name, as the woman left the battlements. There was something there that bothered the dark elf, and she was sorely tempted to follow the woman to uncover if a simple rest was all the woman was after. If she had not been set on seeing the Prince back to the safety of the keep, Zatana probably would have followed Drana. Tired or not, that was information she could pass onto her grandfather and use to get into Balthazar's good graces. The lack of trust from the old wizard was entirely understandable from a professional viewpoint, though it was incredibly irritating to her sensibilities of wanting to do her job well. The clashing orders of keeping the Prince alive, gathering information and then following any other orders she was given was a thankless task. One that Zatana would succeed in and complete to the utmost of her ability and achieve the outcome desired. It was merely a question of whose outcome it would be.

The city itself was recovering from the first of the siege's waves. A tide of enemies that would come and go and crash against the walls until they receded for good or the walls buckled to their onslaught. A thing of beauty when it was read about and terror to behold. Her thoughts were puzzling over the poetry of war and mysteries that she had yet to solve when Prince Leonidas spoke, his tone joking. While he might not have expected a reply, he was given one. "Of course, Your Highness. I shall inform him of your injuries, including the gash to the shoulder and the stab wound to your forearm. Along with diverting your protection to covering a orc with a heavy weapon and thus leaving yourself exposed." The dark eyes locked onto Leonidas as the drow gave a polite smile that befitted the crueler of her race. It was horribly rude of her, Zatana knew, to speak thus to the Prince but she was sorely tempted to take his hammer and beat it into his skull that she was his protector. Yes, she would be whatever was needed at the time, but his safety was of the highest consideration in all of her instructions. If she had to countermand orders to be assured of it? So be it. "Unless, you would rather-?"

The trade square had been given over a party, and Zatana had perched in the shadows and listened in amusement when the Prince and Balthazar wore the Duke down into hosting a celebration for the men. It was needed, the dark elf admitted, but it was not a place for one of her kind. Bergkoff's residents did not care for the drow and when they were full of drink and a siege sat on their doorstep? They would have swords and sharp opinions close at hand. Her presence would only cause problems, and Zatana was loath to sit on a roof and listen to the festivities. Surrounded by so many soldiers, what harm could the Prince come to? Her mind filled with possibilities and Zatana couldn't but grimace at what her imagination could drag up from the depths. Having remained in the war room, Zatana had attempted to allow herself to doze while listening to the absent chatter. A simple trick of catching cat naps here and there to keep yourself reasonably rested in a warzone. Her weapons cleaned and checked for when she next would have to hurry off to intercept some form of trouble. If there was any trouble, the news would reach the war room and Zatana relatively quickly. The center, the brain, of an operation was exactly where the rogue wanted to be. One dark eye opened as she surveyed the room as she shifted restlessly. This fight was not over and the enemy was still out there.

Acrius' ears perked up she mentioned the knights and her order. Cleric of the dead? Knights? The boy thought. He figured it must've been his fatigue getting to him but he was almost certain that those knights didn't make it after the tunnel's collapse. It must've been his fatigue getting to him, even though he still felt particularly spry. If nothing else he may just mention it the next time he sees Balthazar.

The orange-eyed boy tread back to his quarters to catch a bit of rest but was stopped by one of the chambermaids when she noticed his red and bleeding fingers. Acrius didn't even notice the small cut and, if he did, would've just cauterized his fingers if need-be. His eyes shifted to his fingers as blood slowly trickled on the pristine cobble floors. "Apologies, I didn't notice-" The chambermaid practically yanked him to a chair and started bandaging up his fingers, She must really dislike blood on the floor.

Acrius stared at his overly-bandaged hand. The maid was overreacting but he really couldn't say anything. On his way back he also bumped into Celeste, who had a sour look on her face before she saw Acrius, it seemed that she was getting reprimanded by one of the sergeants for not strictly following orders. She enveloped him into another hug before laughing at his overly bandaged hands. The two talked about the battlefront and what had happened in their fronts, the two didn't meet each other as she was stationed on the Western gate and was exclusively an archer. She was grinning widely as she described an arched shot that targeted one of the commanders. Acrius praised her skill and regaled her with his own adventures on the sewers.

---

---

The Bergkoff celebration was in full swing. The town was practically dancing and moral rose due to the earlier victory. The party in the square planned by the Duke, Balthazar and Leonidas was clever, in all honesty. It helps the citizens (even the soldiers) keep their mind off the taxing siege. Celeste opted to stay in, as she was tired and didn't have Acrius' non-exhaustive stamina. Acrius donned a tunic and had a shorter sword hanging from his waist. It was similar to his garb he wore during his nightly excursion as Arthur.

Acrius himself was eyeing the different foods offered by the merchant, he had enough money and he was curious enough. The smell that filled the plaza was almost mouth-watering. Aside from fighting, he did have a liking towards food. This was because he never really ate properly during his childhood- he had to eat what he could to survive, so now that he had gold he could do what he wanted. It's not like he spent it on anything else.

Acrius walked up to different stalls and tried out different foods while keeping an eye out on Leonidas' table. He would join later, after the ale's depleted, because he knew that someone on that table would force him to drink again.

He'd rather not relive what happened when he did get drunk.

Merik Roak

---

The wall had been a bit bigger than he thought it was but the giant lizard carried on until he was almost to the southern gate. it seemed that the resistance here proved to be enough and kept the intruders at bay for the day. The guards on the wall were tired and some were injured but they were alive. The wall was still standing and now it seemed like the battle had ended for now and they were victorious.

Merik left the wall soon after realizing this and walked through the city. Everyone seemed to be breathing a bit easier the people still kept their distance from him but that didn’t stop the oaf from moving heavy debris and waving at some of the citizens passing by. He even assisted a little old lady that seemed to be stuck outside her door and probably had something cooking because she was trying very hard to open the door. Merik simply reached over and popped the door open letting the old lady scamper inside then she shut the door quickly. Some people were sure in a hurry.

Merik could only assume why humans were always fast paced sometimes you just need to slow down and enjoy life. For example Merik took advantage of the city streets growing more and more energetic with food and people and alcohol. Some had even forgotten about the food left out on their carts. The lizard was able to get ahold of several types of fried fish, some weird bread that was sweet and crumbly, a bowl of stew, and a couple loafs of sweet bread. What a time to be alive with so much free food.

Alcohol was never really something he was interested in. Merik did not enjoy things that clouded his mind or made his body feel numb. Well except getting caught in a sunbeam during winter at the palace, that warmth can put this beast to sleep no problem. In his wandering he hadn’t realized that he had returned to the central keep, “Oh old man is in there.” He spoke to himself and entered the gate. The guards almost stopped him until they realized the black and red color of his clothes were not intentional and he was still covered in blood. That with the royal sigil still at his hip made it so the guards just stepped aside.

The one thing he was missing dearly all day had been the small pond next to the keep. It was just deep enough at the middle for him to submerge himself. He took the opportunity to set his things down next to the pool. Wearing his armor and leaving the few things he had not eaten and his sword the lizard waded out into the pool then slowly began to swim around. Twisting and turning to clean off his armor the clear waters slowly turning tinges of black and red. Soon he stepped out of the water walking on all fours and shook like a wet dog. His armor didn’t hold onto water being mostly stone and leather and the water simply dripped from his large frame.

After gathering his things Merik headed into the keep, most of the servants were away getting the dukes alcohol to the people and most of the others avoided him other than the ones cleaning up what little water dripped off him. He knew his way around just by scent, the old man smelt of mystery and things he could never quite make out to the point where he simply registered the scent as ‘the old man.’

Merik finally reached the war room and attempted to step inside but the brute’s sword decided that it wouldn’t be easy. After trying again he stumbled into the room only to see the quiet elf and no old man. “Elder sleep?” looking around for a moment and nodding, “elder sleep.” Seeming to answer his own question he stepped up to the elf and gently placed a loaf of sweet bread on her lap. Other than where he had poked through the paper wrapping with his claws the food seemed to be in good condition. Merik quietly set the rest of his food down in a corner of the room with his sword resting against the wall next to it. He attempted to bury what he had by moving a rug over it then stretched and yawned.

Returning to walking on all fours the Large Lizardfolk circled the elf in her chair once. If she was sitting against the wall he would move the chair off the wall so he could move around it. Stopping for a moment to nuzzle the friendly elf and rub his face against her head, “Elf elf elf.” He spoke with a cheerful tone. Almost like a large cat or dog he circled her twice more then settled down on the floor next to her. His head was resting near her right hand but his large frame nearly wrapped entirely around her with his tail finishing the circle and then some. It didn’t take him long to settle in and get some rest. Obviously whatever had transpired today left him in a very good mood as he was not normally this compassionate or friendly, it was almost loving in his own way. The elf was a good teacher, a good friend, and really good at playing hide and seek.

@LadyRunic

The remainder of the day was, thankfully, not nearly as eventful as its beginning. Any further attacks made by the enemy could be easily repelled at this point, and it was only a matter of time until the enemy threw in the proverbial towel. A good general knows when the battle was lost-- that the scales have tipped too far in the favor of the enemy, and that it was time to retreat. The tactician who was currently advising the invaders must be competent enough to realize that much. After all, a simple Orc Warlord would not have been capable of such tactics.

Thus, the rest of that day consisted of Balthazar doing paperwork. With his Record-Hunters at his side, he could easily churn out enough orders and reports to ensure all fronts were updated on the situation at hand. When the fighting had subsided, he and the Prince worked to try and convince the Duke of Bergkoff to open the possibility for a small celebration to raise morale. Although Balthazar would take no part in such festivities himself, its effects on the attitudes of the city's citizens and soldiers were undeniable.

Of course, he would not have advocated for this if the siege were to be protracted, or if there was a shortage of food, but if all went well, Siegfried and his reinforcements would be here to help break the siege of Bergkoff and turn things around on the enemy. Thus, as the townspeople and soldiers moved to enjoy a pleasant evening within the town square, Balthazar would retire to his quarters. The thing he would do next required... privacy.

"M'lord." A soft voice said from behind the door.

Balthazar took a moment to confirm its authenticity, before opening it. "You've grown to be a capable courier, Miss Mary." He commented as he took the envelope from her hands.

"It's no trouble, m'lord." The maid smiled. "You've treated me very well so far."

"So I hope." He reached into his coinpurse and placed a Sovereign in her palm. "Do enjoy the festivities tonight, Miss Mary."

Shocked at his generosity, she stammered out words of thanks as she bowed deeply. "T-thank you, m'lord! I won't forget your kindness."

Balthazar merely smiled and waved her off. She was a useful asset within the castle, and although she had no connections to speak of, she could prove to be a valuable source of information within Bergkoff in the future. When she was gone, the man locked the doors to his bedchambers and began to read the contents of the newly-delivered envelope.

"Drana Turash..." Balthazar mused openly as he compiled the information he knew into several sheets of parchment.


Balthazar yawned as he glanced at his pocketwatch. It was not particularly late, and it seems the festivities were only just beginning. He looked out the window to observe from a distance, packed his pipe full of tobacco, and enjoyed the solitude as best he could from the comfort of his room.

Zatana had been dozing, one ankle resting on her other knee. Her cowled face leaned back against the wall, before her eyes opened at the noise of feet moving across the stone. Wary about why someone might be coming to the war room, Zatana pulled herself towards wakefulness. It was not easy, the dark elf needed her rest after the battle and her little stunt. So upon seeing that it was Merik, Zatana wanted to sigh in relief. The lizard did not seem to have sought her out with news as he seemed rather more interested in where Balthazar had gone. "He went to his rooms." Which she would need to find and search at some point, but not now. For all she wanted to excel, Zatana was all too mortal. Her needs were just like any other, despite what the citizens of Bergkoff might think. They most likely had all sorts of fanciful tales about her kind. Rolling her shoulders to keep them from stiffening up, Zatana was about to uncross her legs when she saw the loaf of sweet bread Merik had placed there.

The offering shocked the dark elf, though she thought herself a fool. Merik was a simple creature and did not seem to possess the innate distrust that certain others had towards her. An unwise thing, but she could not find it in herself to dismiss the bread and thus spurn the lizard. Her fingers moved and picked apart the loaf, eating it greedily. She had eaten here and there, but a full proper meal was not something she wanted at the moment. In battle, a full stomach could lead to complications. On watch, she had seen soldiers content and lazy. Hunger was a fine sharping stone to the attentiveness of those who needed it and Zatana was officially not on watch.

Her surprise was soon turned to stunned disbelief as Merik nuzzled her head. Mussing the locks of pale hair, her hand fluttering up to fix the slight vanity she had after the lizard was done making a fool of them both. Watching him circle the chair, she frowned in disapproval. "You do realize I may have to get up in a hurry? You are altogether entirely too friendly for your own good, lizard." Her voice was stern, an attempt at being disapproving. Yet there was a softness to the clipped delivery and gratitude in the words. "I do appreciate the food." Absently, she wondered if he had drugged it. She looked over a piece of bread in her hand and then ate it. Merik, Zatana thought, had no reason to drug her or try to poison her. Plus, the lizard was in an incredibly odd mood. One she would ride out and use. The dark elf considered the lizard man. Her training would have had her use this time to attempt to pull Merik closer to her in his loyalties. Zatana was sorely tempted to heed her natural state as a spy and do her duty. Yet, where would that duty be if she was too tired to act in a situation where she was needed tomorrow? Merik was a simple being and a useful one. If she moved too quickly it was likely that Balthazar would notice and the old wizard would take issue with it.

That wizard was nothing short of trouble and as much as Zatana wanted to, getting rid of the man would be next to impossible. Worse? She had the suspicion that if she did get rid of Balthazar she would get a reaming about her grandfather losing a potentially interesting opponent when- if she returned to the Dread Coast. That was the problem when old men liked to play games where their kind was rare.

Drana made a quick exit as she felt the magic swirling in her chest. She was lucky that her knights had been caught in the collapse of the explosion as there was no doubt Acrius would have seen the knights form beneath their armor. “Lady death, let this day hold no more surprises.” She said to herself as she made her way to the streets behind the walls. She had no doubts that the old man she had met was not going to overlook her sudden appearance, though that could wait for a time when she was awake. Leonidas had offered her the assistance of Acrius, but the boy had left with other thoughts on his mind. Drana could not blame the lad, and in truth was thankful he had not followed her. ‘Maybe I should tell Acrius first, if I do not tell someone the secret will spill itself like it always does.’ She thought wearily.

Drana found a quiet spot in an alleyway further into the city. Here she took her staff and scratched a small symbol into the mud that covered the cobble. Calling on the spirits that served her, she began to speak the draconic words of power needed to call them forth. “Confn ekess ve, schakri katimai di marfedelom. Wux tepoha ti chiilipena dout geth. Wer tairais ihk ssifisv tepohaic zulf udoka vur jaka wux zklaen lleisgar tenamalo.” The two knights rose out of the thin mud as though it held a depth far beneath the street. As they climbed out, the skeletons were bare and without weapons or armor. As they stood before her, the rune in the ground glowed and their armor and weapons faded into existence around them much like an apparition on a dark night. “My lady, you are exhausted. You must return to the war room and request shelter as soon as possible.” Gordon spoke as though he had not left her side. Drana laughed quietly at her knight's concern, having missed it upon the battlements. Stephan remained silent as he usually did, offering nothing more than a hollow stare as he made sure his armor was fastened properly to his form. “Sir Gordon, I-” Drana did not finish as the magic had pulled the last of her power. Luckily, Her two knights were capable of taking care of her.

Drana arrived at the war room near the evening with the two knights. The guards at the gates had stopped them, but moved to let them pass as Gordon explained their situation. The guards gave them instructions to the war room.

Stephan held her bridal style as she slept in his arms. Her hand remained fastened around her staff despite her unconscious state.. The two men were dressed in full plate, and without magic were easily heard approaching the war room’s open door. Gordon was met with the sight of Zatana and Merik. They stopped at the door, though Gordon’s deep voice soon filled the room. “Good evening, might you know where I can find a bed for Lady Turash?” The two knights stopped side by side. Drana was easily seen in Stephan’s arms, covered in grime and goblin blood. The two knights did not have any grime on them aside from where they had assisted Drana. “I do hope we are not interrupting anything.”