Location: Uhladein, Eastern Marches

---

There is a certain kind of beauty in disaster -- in watching a grand edifice come crumbling down to the earth, leaving only dust and ruination -- in the crackling of flames as they devour everything in their path -- in the creeping of darkness that swells and surges in the fire's wake -- in the momentary flash of striking lightning, and in the anticipation of the coming thunder. And with that beauty, there is a certain clarity -- for when that blinding bolt lights up the sky, suddenly, even in the darkest of storms, even through the driving rain and howling wind, one can see as clear as day the true state of the world around her. There is quiet. Stillness. Peace. A single instant, frozen in time, the raindrops all hung suspended in the air like glassy beads of dew upon the strands of a spider's web. Then comes the thunder, and all is cacophony and madness once more.

Ah, the tempest -- the sweet, sweet tempest -- a symphony fit for devils, composed within the blackest pits of hell! How it roiled and sang, how the lightning flashed and the fire crackled and the rain chilled one to the very bone -- how the beasts roared and the people screamed and it all came crashing down. How little it mattered who lived and who died -- who fought and who fled -- who was good and who was evil! Yes, indeed, beneath that brilliant beam from the heavens, all were of equally little consequence -- mere pieces in a game played by gods and fools and understood by neither.

The stroke of a sword was much the same. The mounting tension, the blade upraised -- then descending in a flash to cleave whatever sorry fool happened to lie beneath it. That single moment of resistance -- of exhilarating struggle -- and then suddenly all would give way, skin tearing, muscles rending, bones cracking, blood spilling, voice screaming -- was it her enemy or her who cried loudest? Meaningless. For the deafening thunder came, and the world's madness once again took hold. That beautiful instant was gone forever, and mere memory could never do it justice. Another! Another flash of lightning! Another brilliant light to provide meaning once more to this blasted wreck of mud and dust! Another masterful stroke, another foe to slay -- onward, stumbling over the fallen, the weight of her blade leading her ever onward, deeper and into the darkness that she might cut the very night itself apart! Higher, higher still -- there were yet mountains to be felled, were there not?! A brighter flash and a louder din, that she might once again taste the sweet nectar of victory -- that gorgeous moment when all was made silent once again.

Ah, how her body writhed with hunger. How her throat clenched with thirst! A dull, aching pain that spread from her core to her arm and from there to... what exactly? That unknown weight that pulsated and tugged at her unseen strings. What was it again? Ah, yes, her partner.

"...That... way?"

Another tug, more urgent, more insistent. Her muscles unraveled and coiled like a thousand serpents, the massive crimson thing drawing her onward as she shambled desperately after it. She must have been fighting for quite some time, she supposed -- otherwise, she would never have felt so tired. It was strange, though. There had been others with her when she started, right? She had been ordered to protect something... Right, the ferry. The people... they needed to get to safety. Father was... No, Master Fray was counting on her. But then what were these beasts? Where did her comrades go?

"The flowers... Master...? Everyone is gone..."

...No, rather, they had all been gone since a long time ago. Once again, she'd been ordered to sacrifice herself to protect others. And once again, she and she alone had survived.

The haze of battle was fading, and a different kind of clarity began to take its place. The beat of her heart, and the heart of her partner, began to slow, clearing the adrenaline from her addled mind.

The southern front had already collapsed. She supposed that any survivors must have retreated to the keep -- to the hearth. Those towering, shambling forms she could see writhing over the walls, and the unearthly howls that carried even to the blasted, blood-soaked crater in which she alone stood among the mangled, half-chewed husks of her prey suggested that the strongest of her foes were now doing the same, hot on the heels of whatever allies she might have had left.

Then in that case, her -- no, their course of action was obvious, wasn't it? Wherever Fianna the Bloody went, disaster would follow. And wherever disaster arose, Fianna the Bloody would cut it down. Those massive beasts, perhaps, could sate the hunger that seethed within her bosom. Merely thinking of what she would feel as her blade sank into their tender flesh sent shivers down her spine.

And so, the pale maiden, still soaked in the blood of the slain, shouldered her vicious blade, and shambled towards the keep, all too eager to meet whatever cruel fate awaited her there -- for all she could see was the flashing lightning, all she could hear was the booming peal of thunder...

Yes, indeed, there is such beauty in disaster -- all the moreso for an inconsequential Hunter with nothing left to lose.

Location: Uhladein, Eastern Marches

---

The cold rain fell.

Cold enough to chill the blood in the veins. Cold enough to sluice away hope. Cold enough to clot the soul.

The small figure atop the keep stared out at the screaming, roiling mass as they seethed through the southern front. The rain hammered down hard enough to nearly knock her breath away. It was loud for sure. But not enough to blot out the terrible sounds of the Void, nor The piercing scream that had emerged from within them, cold as the falling rain. Zecimia had gone to ash defending the breach. Uhladein was next. The Hunters within the walls were the only ones left that could stanch the endless tide. She flicked her eyes to just behind her, to the fading, wavering of the Hearthfire, and then down, to the group of pyromancers that clustered around the crystal. The tide wasn't endless. But it wouldn't stop until the rain did. And she had her doubts about which would come first; the rain's end, or theirs.

She took a deep breath. The world around her was frigid. The darkness was lit up only with the flashes of lightning, marking time through this nightmare dreamscape, and the fitful flickering Hearthfire behind her. But despite the cold, the air that she breathed hissed down her throat with painful heat. And though the swarm beneath her was loud enough to drown out the pouring rain, it fell away before the roaring furnace of Undying Light beside her face. With ease born of long practice, she quickstepped around the perimeter towards the entrance of the tower. Stretching out before her was the end of the world. The roaring was nearing fever pitch. She could feel the fire that it surrounded swell as it gorged itself on her inner flame, and she bared her teeth in a soundless snarl. Almost ready. Almost time.

After this, time would be precious, and every wasted moment meant she crept closer to a final death. So this shot had to be as powerful as she could make it. Her jaw creaked as she clenched her teeth, the pain in her soul intensifying. She pushed ever harder into the fire. She gasped out an involuntary breath as the pain redoubled. And somewhere within her, she felt something deep and fundamental break.

Ah. There we go.

The metal was searing hot as she pressed it to her cheek. She steadied herself. She aimed, taking sight on the grim ocean beneath. And, heedless of any audience, she gave vent to a harsh, grim death rattle of a laugh.

Click.

The entire battlefield was, for a brief moment, bathed in a light like the sun as as a cascading torrent of flames bloomed from her cannon like a flower, and the crash was louder than any thunder. Where it struck, Voidflesh sizzed and burned before the rain doused it. sending forth a cloud of foul-smelling steam above the scorched earth. The laugh only grew louder. And though the ebb in the tide was filled again in the space of a moment, her blood still burned with satisfaction.

In the absence of the cannon's roar, the sounds of the Void and the frigid rain filled her ears once more. She paused, her laughter stopping as she heaved in a breath through clenched teeth. With a sound like lightning striking stone, an incandescent crack of golden light seared across her chest for a moment before fading away. Her breathing grew jagged, and the furnace began to stoke once more. She gave Undying Light an affectionate stroke as the hot metal began to vibrate with the as-yet-inaudible force of the nascent soul-fire within.

Then beneath her, she saw a massive Void beast slithering its way through the dread all around them. Her eyes widened, and a vicious knife of a grin spread across her face as thoughts of duty and protection fled her mind. She backed up, retreating until she felt the paltry warmth of the fading embers at her back. The flame continued to build. She could hear the roar now, could feel it swelling. She slammed as much magic as she could into it, one more time.

Then she ran for the edge and catapulted herself into space.

The fire roared. The cannon burned. The rain fell. And beneath her, the world once more blazed white with staccato cracks of lighting, highlighting the horrifying faces of Voidlings and the grim determination of hunters alike. She hurtled towards the colossal thing, howling as she went with rage, pain, and glee. The fire roared. The rain fell. The Void screamed back at her. And, as she plummeted—cannon pointed straight beneath her—Quinnlash laughed.

"And choke on it!" she screamed, the laughter mangling her words, "Choke on it, you bastards!"

Her fall ended.

The flower bloomed.

Location: Uhladein, Eastern Marches

---

The large silhouette was dwarfed by the shadow of the void, and yet it stood firm as the latter reared its ugly head. The rain was a blessing for the hunter, mixing among the sweat that beaded down her face and soaked the clothes she wore--a cool relief against the flames licking at her body from within the Forge. The Forge was covered in the void's cursed black blood, its heftiness making for one hell of a weapon. At least until now, Lexann realized as she stared grimly up at the void before her.

Grim, but cool, as she exhaled and rolled her left shoulder, it aching from carrying most of the Forge's weight. The fingers on her opposite hand flexed and closed as she drew in another breath, the woman otherwise silent. Lexann's jaw tightened as she braced against the pain and plunged her arm into the flames of the shield. Not a noise she made, but it was a wonder her teeth didn't crack against each other as the smell of seared flesh filled her nose. The fire chewed on her flesh, blinding her senses--she could never discern exactly what happened within the Forge. She could only wait until she felt something solid pressing against her flesh and bone as her nerves lost their sense for anything but pain in the fire.

Finally, she yelled as she withdrew her toasted arm-- gripped in what was left of her hand was the color red. Red, bloody flames that survived against the rain that fell, fueled by the blood sacrificed. The fire flared dramatically, bright against the storm before dulling slightly and taking on its final form: a farmer's tool.

Stunned out of the pain, Lexann stared at the sickle in her hand. She gave it a twirl, testing its weight. It danced deftly about her fingers even as they healed against the damage the Forge had inflicted. It was small and awkwardly shaped for the job ahead, but it would have to do. Lexann planted her shield into the ground where she stood and stepped forward to meet the Void as its appendages lunged at her.

Behind her, her hair danced liked ribbons--almost graceful for her size--and she slashed the little sickle up and down, left to right against the void. Not a movement was unnecessary, too wide, or slow. Each twitch of her muscles was deliberate and controlled, perfected by her years as a warrior. The strange weapon moved like a short extension of her arm, and each attack was fast and strong. The burning blade turned the rain to steam and the void to ash-- the confrontation over in moments.

Lexann's head tilted up toward the wall, green eyes squinting against flashes of lightning that illuminated the work still cut out for her and the other hunters. She did not smile, and she did not release the blood and flames in her palm.

Location: Uhladein, Eastern Marches

---

It seemed the battle had already reached the city's keep by the time the blood-soaked huntress arrived at the foot of its walls. One of the gargantuan Voidspawn attempted to scale the rampart, only to be immolated by a shrieking blast of fire from the pinnacle of the citadel, while another was ripped to shreds by a small figure that she was pretty sure called her "granny" for some reason. Well, whoever the brat was, they were at least right about one thing, though -- she had neither the time nor the inclination to dawdle here and let her prey be taken by another.

Seeing as the tiny huntress who'd called out to her had already launched herself into the midst of those enemies still on the ground, Fianna instead turned her bloody-minded gaze towards those that were now fleeing from the eviscerated husk of their fellow, scrambling desperately up the wall and out of reach. She exhaled faintly, her breath condensing into a cloud of vapor in the frigid air as, absentmindedly, she clenched her off-hand into a fist and raised it to point towards the beasts on the wall.

A disgusting series of loud pops and squelches split the air like gunfire as the air pockets within her knuckles suddenly expanded, the bones of her fingers erupting from within and launching themselves like so many tiny darts into the bodies of several of the Voidlings -- piercing them through with surprising force as tendons of muscle drew taut in their wake, reforming her mutilated fingertips into wire-thin tendrils that, with a mighty tug, ripped her victims down from the wall, and into the waiting blade of her sword -- cleaving five of the abhorrent beings with a single blow. Their bodies sloughed off the blade like water, dripping upward back along her "fingers" and into the stump of her arm, which swelled up like a balloon, muscles re-knitting together and their surface hardening into a chitinous shell, from which all too many digits extended like the legs of a centipede.

Glancing back, she noted that whoever had called out to her looked to be handling the remaining voidlings at the base of the wall just fine on her own. She opened her mouth, fumbling momentarily as her battle-clouded mind tried to recall how to properly form words.

"Leave these... to you."

Raising her newly improved arm, she shambled up to the edge of the wall, then brought her gargantuan, misshapen limb down like a hammer, plunging its many legs into the stone. They writhed and skittered, piercing like pitons into the cracks between the bricks and "walking" upward, while the apathetic huntress dangled below, until she reached the top and dragged herself up as, with several snaps and cracks, the many sharp limbs condensed themselves into a more recognizable, albeit still-clawed facsimile of a human hand, joints splitting, merging, and warping into four "fingers" and one "thumb."

What voidlings had avoided being picked off by her earlier attack or by the girl at the base of the wall, she quickly finished off with a few deft strokes of her sword. Their oversized mandibles couldn't even pierce the hardened armor of her shieldlike arm, and, as they had offered no danger, also offered no real sense of reward as she saw them crushed to dust beneath her mighty blade. More... she needed something more. And so, she began to stalk along the wall, searching for a foe that could truly remind her she was alive...

Location: Uhladein, Eastern Marches

---

Quinnlash leapt backwards, breaths coming fast heavy. The flames dropped from her hands and feet as she hopped up on a shattered-off piece of the tower, taking a moment to survey the fight. It was going...well? Or if not well, at least it was going predictably. The Void was encroaching, and normal humans were falling back and taking shelter. Whirls of blue flames and ice spat from the rooftops, alternately torching and freezing flying Void in its wake. It moved smoothly, quickly, as though gliding. That would be the Hunter with the spear and blue hair, she thought. The one that held herself like she was some kind of special. The one that looked at Quinnlash like she was better than her or something. She twitched, and her lip curled up in a sneer.

In front of her, the paltry remnants of a guard patrol ran from the army of Void goblins, and the enormous ogre-shadow at their head. Between the two of them was the little one, the small Hunter with the angry eyes. She radiated heat, steam rising from her constantly as the rain poured down. Her claw-talons, the ones that Quinnlash had thought were inefficient weapons, were blazing white-hot. Perhaps not inefficient at all. But certainly painful. As she watched, the girl rushed to meet the mass of Void, shearing through them with ruthless savagery. She left molten footprints as she went, the stone itself yielding to the immense heat before the rain darkened it once more. Quinnlash snorted scornfully. We've only got five and one's a Melter. Of course. Thanks, Maker.

She hadn't seen where the tall pink-haired Ldranti had gone, but from the horrifying sound of a Void creature being butchered and bellowing in pain coming from around the other side of the keep, she could probably guess.

And, of course, along the top of the wall was the only Hunter here that she knew personally. As usual, her body was some degree of twisted, and the metal...meat...sword...thing that twisted out of her arm gave Quinnlash a chill that few other things could. She'd had the...dubious pleasure of working with Fianna a few times. Midnosian Hunters both, after all. And every time. Every time. It always ended up with her dying. Sometimes once or twice. Sometimes over and over. She growled deep in her throat, and her cannon growled with her.

There was a grating shriek from above and she snapped her head skyward in alarm in time to see a blast of fire explode from a tower window. The Void had taken hatchlings from a roc, seemed like, and they dipped to strike at the pyromancers that tended the Hearthfire crystal. Their mother couldn't be far behind. As skilled a pyromancer as Galeil—it had to be him, she didn't respect any of the other idiots up there—seemed to be from that blast, the Void was far more than he could handle, or else the Hunters wouldn't be here. A half-forgotten memory of a voice whispered in the hidden recesses of her mind: You are a pyromancer. Pyromancers like us are the final line, and have the final say. You must not shirk in your duty. You must not leave the fire. And you must not abandon your comrades. We are the final line. We have the final say. All of us. The phantom memory galled her, and she waved it away with a snarl and a swear, spitting foul-tasting Void blood and dry ash from her mouth in disgust. "Fine! I'll go! Now fuck off!"

With a few deft steps, she bounded over broken chunks of masonry, bouncing across crumbling, rain-slicked fragments of stone towards the wall. Crazy or no, molten-hot or no, that girl wouldn't last long against a horde like that. She was a Melter, after all. Mostly cannon fodder. But the longer the cannon fodder lived, the easier the real Hunters' job would be. She moved like a wildfire, burning without stopping through any Void in her way, until she topped a steep pile of rubble where she could have a moment to aim and unslung her cannon.

She pressed it to her cheek, pointing towards the lone, white-clawed figure that blazed incandescent within the swelling Void sea. She had a much better angle here. Wouldn't risk immolating the guards if she twitched. The world was lit with the cold white glare of lightning, and with an abrupt exhalation, she pulled the trigger. Another tremendous explosion burned through the night as she unleashed a blazing pyre upon the ogre, careful to catch the other Hunter out of the blast radius. Or at least only slightly within it. The ravaging inferno consumed the enormous beast and anything even remotely near it in golden radiance. It certainly wouldn't die from that. It would take at least two or three fully-charged shots to bring one of those to its knees, let alone kill it, and this was far from that level of power. She could tell it was in pain, though, and the burning goblins streaking through the air like little meteors brought a smile to her face. She gave a casual salute towards the girl. Least she had some breathing room for a couple seconds until more came to fill the gap.

Thunder rolled in the distance, and just like that, the smile winked out. She couldn't spare the time to really enjoy it anyway, not before the anger flooded back. With a few more nimble leaps and some well-applied bursts of pyromancy, she topped the wall, staring out at the endless Void ocean. In the lull that followed the last crash of thunder—the comparative lull, at least, only the hissing of the rain and the horrifying sounds of the Void—she turned and shouted at Fianna with a sharp and loud voice, another lightning-harsh sound accompanying another golden crack and another soul-deep pain as she reloaded. It took some doing, breaking the crazy woman out of her battle trances, but she was still the only Hunter here that Quinnlash was familiar with, and as much as she hated to admit it, the only one she could even moderately trust. At least as far as she knew. But that didn't hold if she couldn't even think. She needed her to listen and talk. Now. "Hey! Freakshow!" She kicked a fist-sized rock at her, smacking her in the back of the head. "Snap the fuck out of it, dumbass! You—"

She broke off, whirling a high kick at a Voidling that came scuttling up the wall. As it connected, a burst of flame surged out of her booted foot, launching the sickening creature back into the rest of its kind with a chittering scream. Three more followed and she gnashed her teeth. The enormous barrel of her cannon was suddenly wreathed in ethereal flames and she swept it back and forth like a warhammer, slamming it through their chitinous shells and sending them flying as her pyromancy consumed them. She glanced down and saw a swarm of the insectoid creatures skittering up the wall at her. Her cannon wasn't charged very much, but it was more than enough for this, and so she brought it to bear and it poured out a curtain of blazing light, knocking them from the stones.

As the swarm collapsed, it let out a sound like ten thousand knives on ten thousand stones, and this time she beamed, throwing back her head in a laugh of absolute euphoria and letting the freezing rain dull the pain, if only a little, as it washed the ash and ichor from her face.

When her joy abated, she huffed out another heavy breath and stood straight again, tossing her sodden braid behind her. She turned to Fianna, Undying Light resting on her shoulder and still leaking remnants of the pyromantic flare. The searing light flashed again on her chest as another soulflame nestled into the core of her cannon and began to swell as fast as she could grow it. In defiance of the rain, the familiar pain surged back stronger, carving its way through her whole body. Her eyes darted skyward at the boiling rainclouds overhead. Who knew how much time the pyromancers in the keep had left?

"You all up shit's creek down here, or can I head up?"

Location: Uhladein, Eastern Marches

---

The hunter kicked some ash aside as she retrieved the shield she had left in the ground. In the middle of the storm, her figure was dark save for the red glow of the sickle still in her hand. It hurt, hot against the skin since the flames had burned away her leather glove; but it didn't hurt as much as the inside of the Forge. Far more effective against the Void than the shield alone, she decided to hold onto it for as long as she could. As she picked up the rectangular hunk of metal, its back opened up to illuminate her figure once more. Lightning flashed as Lexann looked around, green eyes searching for a new target.

As the most recent clap of thunder rumbled away, screams of pain and fear found her ears. The Stormbrew didn't hesitate. She ran toward the chaos--as fast as she could manage, anyhow. Between the weight of her armor, the heft of the shield, and the rain soaking into her clothes, she was slowed down considerably. Though in her defense, the average soldier could not dream of even lifting the Forge with a single arm, much less run with it. So it was no surprise to her that she wasn't the first hunter to arrive at the slaughter. Lexann blinked and squinted against the rain.

Was that a hunter?

Among the army of void goblins, a flurry of hair and claws wreaked havoc. Not much bigger than the void she was tearing apart, she could be an animal herself. The only confirmation for Lexann that she was indeed watching another hunter was that despite taking as much damage as she was dealing, the little freakshow persevered and healed through it.

Lightning flashed again and Lexann's attention was drawn to the largest mass-- it was a shock to her she didn't notice it first. Twice her own height and maybe bigger, drenched in the void. An ogre, she realized, an empowered puppet for the void to use against the soldiers. And hunters.

Lexann watched as it turned away from a fresh corpse, its attention gripped by the flurry tearing apart its minions. Its gross, nailed hands came together to make a large fist. Raised above its head and high into the air, it looked like he had a hammer for arms. Of course it would crush a few bugs to get the hunter destroying them anyway. The ogre's fists descended upon the flurry of blood and ash.

"Watch it!" she yelled out, stepping forward. That one step became two, then three, then four-- as many as she needed in an instant. The fists came crashing down against her shield aloft, but she did not budge. With Lexann suddenly in the fray, the tiny hunter was not the only target for the goblins anymore. Lexann gripped the sickle tightly and slashed desperately at the little bastards around her.

Location: Uhladein, Eastern Marches

---

Blood and vile black ichor steeped the stones of the inner wall as the grey huntress carved her path. Voidlings scrambled over the ramparts, only to be crushed in her massive fist or hacked and hewn asunder with a few quick blows of her massive blade. The wind howled, the beasts cried, and Fianna hunted.

And yet, another noise reached her over the din -- screams of a decidedly human nature. If they were coming from inside the courtyard, that meant the main gate must have crumbled... ah. That explained why her prey had suddenly decided to make itself scarce. With a new, easier route into the citadel, they were rushing in through the ground level to get first crack at the helpless townsfolk cowering inside the walls.

What an utterly pathetic farce. These were truly the strongest monsters in history? And yet they ran cowering from her, accepting their defeat in exchange for prey that couldn't so much as lift a finger to defend themselves. Such a blatant display of mediocrity could only remind her of her old life's enemies -- the cowardly nobles of Midnos who hid behind their wealth and armies and oppressed the weak with impunity -- and the unwelcome memory threatened to sour her good mood.

...Then a rock hit her in the back of the head. She lurched forward from the impact alone, but didn't even seem to notice the cracks in her skull as they sealed themselves shut again. A faint trickle of blood ran down her scalp, staining her silvery hair in crimson, but she felt nothing, and ignored it. Turning instead to the source of the unexpected projectile, she raised her blade to cut it down, only to be disappointed even further when she recognized what -- or rather, who -- had thrown it. Ah. That explained everything.

"That was... unnecessary, Quinn. As is your offer of assistance. If an enemy is inside the keep, then..."

She exhaled slightly, a fog of mist forming before her mouth and obscuring the expression she wore for a moment. Yet, the faint, uncharacteristically shrill giggle that she gave meant that her face could only have worn the brightest of smiles.

"Then I'll get to enjoy another delightful hunt."

She spread her arms wide, the weight of her massive sword counterbalanced by the weight of her equally gargantuan mutated hand. Then, she took a step back --

-- and tumbled, grinning madly, off the wall and down towards the courtyard below. The wind took her, and though her numb skin could hardly feel the gale whipping around her as she fell, her hair, skirts, and flowing sleeves trailing behind her like the tail of a comet, the sense of free fall helped her to imagine what it must have felt like, and how exhilarating this would all have been were her humanity still intact.

But that joy was lost to her now. Right... there was only one thing that could make her heart beat anymore, and it was waiting for her at the bottom!

Halfway down the rampart, she kicked off the wall, twisting in mid-air and throwing her entire body into a corkscrew spin, throwing everything she had behind the weight of her sword. Below her stood a towering figure -- a gargantuan behemoth of black ichor and pure rage. Her prey. Like a hawk diving upon an unsuspecting fieldmouse, the blood-soaked comet descended from the sky, just as the giant beast recoiled from being deflected by the shield of another combatant upon the ground. An ally? She had no time to consider such things, so if there really were Hunters yet holding their ground at the entrance, she'd leave the defense to them... and focus entirely on this one strike!

With the force of a thunderbolt, her blade connected, sparks flying as the tar-like coating of its infested body hardened to the consistency of diamond. The jagged edge of Amaryllis tore along the surface of its shoulder and back, but though she ripped through its outer shell, she couldn't reach bone -- much less its heart. Her strike deflected, she slid down its back, carrying through the remainder of her slash's momentum -- reduced though it might have been -- to deal a long, shallow scar down the length of the creature's entire torso. But if this hindered its movements at all, it didn't show it, as it turned and wildly slammed down its fist repeatedly, not giving her any time to recover her bearings from the impact of her landing. The first swing, she turned aside with her blade -- though her knees almost snapped just trying to stand under the mighty impact -- forcing her to roll aside as the second strike landed home. Furious now, it gave a loud roar and took a new approach -- spreading its palm to try to encircle and grab hold of her, so as to crush her like a particularly noisome insect. Without enough time to recover her balance -- a difficult task, given the bulk of her limbs and her precarious, muddy footing -- she instead resolved to meet this attack head-on, and extended her own massive arm in response. As the ogre gripped hold of her, so too did she grasp firmly onto it, grappling with it like a sumo wrestler as it tried to force its weight down upon her.

More flesh, more power -- liquid life flowed from her arm down the rest of her body, and even as she was forced to the ground, her already deformed arm swelled up even further -- muscles bulging, skin tearing, bones stretching to their limits and beyond -- then burst like an over-full pustule as she brought down her sword-arm to sever it cleanly from her body, squirming once more from the giant's grasp like a lizard shedding its tail to escape.

It wasn't as if the ogre had time to worry about catching her again. After all, that limb had been made from the bodies of the spider-like creatures she had slain -- and when it exploded, it had released every last bit of their venom -- enriched and refined with a little bit of help from Amaryllis -- drenching the beast's entire arm in sickening yellow-green bile. It howled once again, trying in vain to grasp her -- only to lose control of the appendage entirely and end up swinging its twitching, afflicted limb every which way in a frenzy as the tar coating it, then its very skin began to violently wither and necrotize.

Fianna rose to her feet, and giggled to herself, grinning as she lurched from side to side, her body's balance readjusting to the distribution of her weight once more being localized entirely on one side of her. Slowly, methodically, she raised her sword once again, and stared down the ogre.

Well, they both only had one working arm now, so it was still a fair fight, right? Thinking that way, this had only gotten more and more exciting! She could already feel the familiar madness taking hold, and she embraced it wholeheartedly.

Don't think. Don't stop. Just hunt.

Location: Uhladein, Eastern Marches

---

"Fucking lunatic," Quinnlash muttered as Fianna did...well, Fianna things. Maker, the woman was goddamn creepy sometimes. Still, she'd told Quinnlash what she needed to know. Everything was at least nominally handled down here; she could get herself back up to the tower and do her best to stop those pyromancers from letting everybody die horribly. She turned her wary eye away from the Void all around her, squinting against the blinding rain to look up at the arched window that Galeil's fire had splashed against and through. It certainly wasn't a big target, all told, and it would be unfortunate if she missed. Still, her cannon had been building charge for a bit now, it should be okay to—

Her thoughts were cut off as a sky-ripping cry echoed from above her and she looked up in time to see the shadow of a fully-grown roc, corrupted by the void, cast in harsh relief against the clouds by sweeping lashes of blue fire. Her eye widened fractionally for a moment. That was the blue-haired Hunter again. She wondered for a moment how she managed to get up there before a grin spread across her face. Didn't matter. No way she was letting her have all the fun. Just because she was headed into the tower didn't mean she couldn't make a detour along the way.

She stared up a moment longer, calculating distances, trajectories, running through backup plans. The explosion would be too big to drop it on the ogre without injuring Fianna, the Ldranti, and the melter, so best not do that. Then, with another bellowing laugh, she jumped outwards from the wall, towards the endless Void.

Just as she was about to hit the ground, she slammed an almost fully-charged shot into them, leaving a hole thirty feet across. As the shockwave blew painfully through her, she blasted skyward towards the roc, howling with mad laughter. The remnants of fire from her cannon seared across the sky as she went, a meteoric tail as she rocketed upwards, already charging another shot. She directed herself with small, powerful bursts of pyromancy; rotating, sliding, getting herself in place as she shifted herself around and twisted backwards, placing herself firmly between the enormous void and the Hearthfire keep as she neared the apex of her flight, only perhaps fifteen feet beneath the massive corrupted creature. From here, she could see the iced hole in its wing, could see the azure hair of the Hunter on its back, could hear her crazed laughter so familiar to her own. Her smile spread wider. "Heads up, Ice Queen!" No more than a second later, she blasted it with another explosion. Though it was of course weaker than the last, it was enough, with gravity's help, to send her bolting towards the window. One more course correction with pyromancy, and—

A roc hatchling, its cry like a knife scraping against a sheet of steel, dived towards the opening itself, drawn to the glow of the Emberstone within. With a deft movement, she slammed into it as she fell, catching it between her legs. It snapped at her, clawed at her, but she just smiled harder as she sailed through the window, crushing it between her thighs with one last burst of applied pyromancy. It let out one last strangled cry as it split into two, the halves crumbling to ash and falling to the ground just a heartbeat after she landed ten feet from Galeil with a thunderous crack and a madcap grin. "Sorry I'm late!"

As she straightened up, she tossed her rapidly-failing braid back behind her and gave an offhanded salute. "Hunter Quinnlash Loughvein, reporting for duty!"

A moment later, as she watched the pyromancers staring at her, her smile vanished, replaced with a stormy frown. She gestured angrily at the apprentices. "What the hell is this?" More confused looks.

She flung an accusatory finger at the apprentice just clockwise of Galeil, which steadily traveled around the circle and pointed to each in turn. "Your form is completely wrong! Your focus is clearly almost completely shattered! Your form is off too, even more than hers is! Your form is off too—do you people have no idea how to channel a Hearthfire?" Sparing a second or two, she adopted a mock channeling stance in front of the crystal, though of course a Hunter couldn't actually channel into it. "Like this, morons! Head up, back straight, legs evenly spaced, shoulders back, arms fully out in front! How long have you been doing this, three days? And all of you are too nervous! Your arms are trembling so much they can barely channel at all, let alone properly!"

Another Void rocling screamed through the window, and without stopping her rant or even looking, she thrust out a hand, roasting it to an ashen crisp with a jet of scorching flame. "Galeil's clearly needed in the defense effort, since he's the only one of you that's at all competent. So you need to be able to hold this without him! Maker help us if this is what's supposed to preserve the Hearth! You need to ignore this shit! Don't be afraid of the Void!" She lifted her cannon to her shoulder and reloaded it, pointing it threateningly at the kids. With any luck, the golden flash of light and the sudden sharp report would get them properly intimidated of her. "Be afraid of me if you don't calm down and fucking FOCUS!"

That said, she whirled around and stalked to the wall, leaning against it, but keeping her attention sharp. Whatever happened, she needed to be ready. These stupid kids got Void anywhere near them, and the Hearthfire was probably doomed. The cannon in her hands, ready to fire at any moment, began once more to rumble and roar. It was louder now, with the rain and Void outside muted by the thick stone walls. She rent her soul into four more pieces and flung a hand wide, placing an everburning soulflame within each of the windows. She hissed and swore as the pain redoubled before she spoke one more time. Aggravation dripped from her words, masking the pain in her voice.

"You super-special kids have a full-fledged Hunter here for the sole purpose of keeping the Void off you. So focus up and do it right."

Location: Uhladein, Eastern Marches

---

The ogre's fists crashed upon the shield and Lexann blinked against embers that fell from the depths as it shook under the force. As her other hand cut at voidlings, their claws and teeth irritating more than deadly to the hunter, she lowered the shield. Settled on the ground between her and the ogre as it recoiled from her block, her eyes turned back on the wild haired hunter--for just a moment as Lexann's attention was pulled elsewhere. If Lexann was pleased with herself or to see that the other was okay, it didn't show: her frown remained stiff and her brows furrowed in focus against the enemy. She rolled her shoulder in relief from the Forge and twirled her burning sickle in preparation of the ogre's counterattack--

Monster.

The word flickered through her mind as a white haired hunter descended upon the ogre. Lexann wasn't one to hesitate, but as the ogre and monster hunter exchanged blows, she couldn't spot a single moment where she could confidently lend a blade. Horror gripped at her heart as she watched the woman's body transform, grotesque and inhuman. Lexann's mind couldn't even quite comprehend what happened as her arm exploded into poison, the substance eating at the ogre like fire on parchment. And nevermind the horrific sight, Lexann's nose wrinkled against the smell as the hunter stood straight as the ogre wailed in anger and pain.

"What?" she exclaimed just as the smaller hunter did. She glanced to her again, relieved not to be the only one dumbfounded. But then fire erupted where she stood and Lexann raised an arm to protect her eyes from the bright heat.

The hunter was fast and brutally strong, fueled by the flames. Lexann watched as the she tore into ogre flesh with her bare hands. The fight was bright against the storm and Lexann could see every movement the hunter made against the ogre. It wasn't as frightening as watching someone's arm explode into poison, but it was no less ferocious and effective. The woman fought like a wild animal until she nearly disappeared into the ogre's chest. One would think having an entire person shot into your body like an arrow would kill the thing. Nope-- the hunter was pulled from its body, and Lexann thought the blackened skin and hair was the void trying to consume her until the ogre threw her into the ground.

Lexann still gripped the sickle in her hand, and she realized the obvious. It wouldn't do. She opened her palm and the tool disappated into the air, flames and blood extinguished, leaving her hand to shake in relief at the coolness of the rain. With a clench of her jaw, she doned the Forge again and its back opened into its heart. She didn't immediately get the chance to reach for her next weapon, though--a few void goblins remained. Confident against the small fries after withstanding a blow from the ogre, Lexann slammed the shield down to the ground with a crouch, turning one into a pool of ooze. Her hand, free of a weapon, shot out to grip a poor goblin's neck as she stood-- and she paused a moment before throwing the creature into the Forge's depths.

"Hm," she hummed when nothing obvious happened. Then she plunged her arm into the flames. Again, the fire tore at her flesh and blinded her senses to the world around her. There was only white hot pain as the fire destroyed her nerves and her body fought to rebuild them. Until, finally, she pulled her arm free.

Despite her luck, her frown deepened. The warhammer was a glorious choice against such a foe; its rounded cylinder larger than her head and its length safe-- but the usual red gleam of a Forged weapon was darkened by the sludgey goblin she had tossed in. It had a hefty weight as well, unique against the dozens of weapons she had pulled, and she had to leave the Forge in the ground again to properly wield it. Both her hands burned as she adjusted her hold on it and her gaze refocused on the void ogre. It would have to do for a practice swing. "Hey!" she yelled at the beast as she ran forward.

The void ogre, injured and angry thanks to the other hunters, turned on her with a wide swing of its fist. Lexann responded by dropping to her knees and reeling the hammer back, her kneeguards helping her slide across the stone as she continued to yell. She felt the void ogre's arm barely miss the top her head and she swung her new weapon at its legs with a satisfying crunch; thunder echoed the sound in the sky. Lexann paused where she crouched to watch the beast fall before raising her hammer again. She would crush its ugly head and finish the fight in a blow--

But she was too close after sliding into home like Babe Ruth, and the void's guard was up against 3 hunters. The ogre only had to swing its arm again and she was knocked aside, suddenly rolling against the stone ground. She braced as she rolled, allowing the momentum to put some distance between her and the enemy before she pushed herself up and onto her two legs. "Damn," she cursed as she rolled her shoulders.

Location: Uhladein, Eastern Marches

---

Evenly matched though they might have been in a vacuum, neither Fianna nor the Ogre was alone. While she'd originally intended to rush right back into the fray to push her advantage, it seemed that her allies decided to take this moment to intervene, even as she had already begun to dash towards her prey once more, rapidly closing the distance. The tiny hunter who'd called out to her before launched into the beast in a flurry of slashes and flames, and when she was at last caught in the beast's grip and hurled back down to the earth, the shieldbearer joined the fray as well, smashing the creature's legs and bringing it to its knees.

Her every instinct wanted to fling her upon the fallen beast -- to rip and tear its flesh away and feast upon the power within. But what little remained of her sanity held fast to the frayed thread of her consciousness, steering her away from this melee. If she dived in now, both her wounded allies might get caught up in her rampage -- and the last thing she wanted to do was fell a fellow Hunter -- particularly not those who were acquitting themselves so valiantly against such a mighty foe.

So, instead, she leaped into the air, kicking off the fallen ogre's shoulder and jumping over it, towards where the retreating survivors of the guard platoon were desperately trying to drag themselves out of the fray, still harried by the half-dozen or so void goblins that remained. Retreating as the guards were, they weren't likely to get in her way... and while these lesser creatures were hardly prey that could sate her hunger, they'd be ample fodder to prepare her for her next tilt at the ogre.

One of the goblins was mid-leap at a fallen guard when a shadow fell over it, and a massive blade skewered it cleanly through the torso. Its ribs cracked and caved inward as the flesh ran off them, liquefying and all collapsing inward towards the blade that had erupted from its body. By the time she landed, it was already little more than an emaciated husk that crumbled into dust as she continued to follow the momentum of the hefty blade affixed to her arm, landing on the tips of her toes and hopping forward with each swing like a crane above the surface of a lake. It was an uncanny, yet graceful dance -- more the movements of a bird of prey than a human being, as her whole body followed behind the weight of her weapon.

One goblin turned, and was reduced to a fine red mist as her massive sword carved through its upper body. She stumbled forward with her momentum, but hopped upright once again, turning a full circle to decapitate two more enemies attempting to flank her. Their black-tainted blood gushed like a fountain into the air, even as she raised the blade high overhead, bringing it down like a guillotine to split her next victim vertically, before lunging through the crumbling halves of his body to skewer a fifth foe hiding in his shadow. Her birdlike pirouette ended, and her blade came to rest on the flagstones below, drinking deep of the blood that now soaked them.

A cry split the air as the final goblin leaped at her from the left, its jaws opened wide as it lunged at her throat. She didn't even turn to face it. With a squelch, a greenish-hued "arm" erupted from her empty socket, its ten-fingered hand clenching around the goblin's head mid-leap. The creature's cry died in its throat as its skull popped like an overripe grape, and its headless body contorted and ruptured, its bones compacting and muscles twisting as it was sucked into a vast, toothy maw that opened in the palm of her new hand, devouring the creature in a single gulp.

That took care of the petty distractions, then. Which meant all that remained was...

A sickening squelch split the air, and Fianna blinked in momentary surprise as she turned to see what exactly had caused it. It seemed that the ogre, not to be outdone, had used its own head as material to summon a replacement arm of its own, either severing or liquefying the corroded limb before grafting on a black, shadowy appendage that dripped and oozed with unnatural ichor. It seemed that in depriving it of one arm, she'd only given it the means and the inclination to replace it with a significantly more deadly one. Perhaps this was how her own enemies felt... Well, not that it mattered.

After all, each of them had two arms again -- so it was still a fair fight. Or at least, it would have been... if the creature was paying any attention to her. Unfortunately, its focus seemed to be entirely elsewhere -- specifically, on the still fallen young Hunter who had set it ablaze just moments before. Her wounds must not have healed yet, and, laying prone as she was at the bottom of a small impact crater, she was a sitting duck.

Well, whatever. Weaklings died. That was nothing new. While its attention was elsewhere, she could strike its already-wounded back, and perhaps even reach its heart this time. The girl would make a perfectly suitable diversion for her to achieve a quick and decisive victory, and then she could feed. There was no time for hesitation or sentiment, so --

"Shut up."

She sprinted at the ogre faster than her thoughts could be twisted, giving a loud roar to draw its attention as she slid between its legs and coming up on the other side just in time to raise her sword. Its shadowy arm came down, claws extended, ready to rip the girl behind her to shreds -- only to find those same claws deflected by the crimson form of Amaryllis as she trapped them in one of the large grooves along the weapon's dull spine. Bracing her newly regenerated off-hand against the back of the blade, she wrenched its first strike aside with her newly increased leverage, even as a large tendril of goblin flesh erupted from her tailbone, coiling itself around the body of the young Hunter behind her and tossing her clear of the crater.

Then the ogre's other hand struck home, and where once had been standing a white haired huntress, there was just a spray of crimson droplets and a few twitching pieces of meat and bone. A crimson sword, still attached to a sticky mass of gore, was ripped free by the resultant explosion of viscera, and flew high in the air, spinning end over end before sticking sideways into the wall of the tower overlooking the courtyard -- where it hung motionless, the "limb" still grafted to its handle flapping limply in the wind...

Location: Uhladein, Eastern Marches

---

The kids apparently did not appreciate the little lesson she attempted to give them. Looked even more scared, actually. Fucking cowards. And Galeil also didn't seem to happy. Ah well, at least he recognized that they were her lessers. She gave an exaggerated shrug as she asked her to directly channel into the crystal herself.

"Oh, don't me wrong, I'd love to. Maker knows you need it up here. Problem is, my magic's real strong and real wild. I try to channel a crystal, it goes crack-pop-boom. And I assume you're not looking for fireworks in here." She gave him a half-grin and tapped her eyepatch. "How do you think I lost this eye?"

Still. As much as she joked with him, she was kinda pissed. She went to all the trouble to give those pyromancers a lesson and this was her thanks? They fucked up harder and now their teacher was angry with her? If there was a problem with their form and focus, it's because he didn't do a good enough job training them. Incompetent. But hey. She knew when she wasn't wanted. This wasn't any fun, anyway, and her cannon just hit full charge. Another exaggerated, theatrical shrug, at odds with the focused frustration in her voice. "Still, looks like I'm not needed here after all, right?" Her eye flashed a blazing yellow as she ripped a soulflame from one of the windows, hopping up into the frame and preparing to jump down again.

You must not shirk in your duty. You must not leave the fire. And you must not abandon your comrades.

"Maker damn you, Mom," she muttered. No matter how much Galeil had galled her by not training his stupid students well enough, they were still the pyromancers keeping them alive, and they still needed protection. It was her duty as a pyromancer of Midnos, and as goddamn annoyed with them as she was, she wasn't quite mad enough to ignore what she'd been taught and leave them to their own devices. It wasn't their fault Galeil hadn't trained them properly, and it wasn't really Galeil's fault that they needed to be coddled as much as they apparently did. A flash of memory flickered against her mind and she shut it down with a snarl.

So instead of leaping down like she so desperately wanted to, she remained in the arched window, sighting along her cannon just in time to watch Fianna the Bloody turn into her sobriquet's namesake. Her sword exploded into the air until it embedded itself in the keep wall. Quinnlash smirked. "Least I'm not the first one to go this time, Freakshow." She'd be back soon anyway. Death wasn't really a big deal for her. Well, it wasn't a big deal for Hunters in general as long as it didn't come too often, but it was an even smaller deal for Fianna. The blue-haired woman with the long spear was falling towards the city, still gripping the back of a dying Void roc. No point shooting that one anymore. The Ldranti with the huge fuckoff shield had gotten slapped to the side, and the melter was...still alive, actually. Quinnlash raised an eyebrow. She expected her to be a stain of charcoal on the ground by now. Seemed like this one was made of tougher stuff than the others she'd seen. And she'd just ripped the ogre's chest wide open, revealing its pulsing innards as she exploded on it.

"Goddamn. Not bad," she said absently as she sighted up her shot. The angry kid had been tossed far enough that she wasn't too close. The Ldranti had been knocked a good distance away. Both of them could still move, so neither was too much in danger, and Fianna was currently a red stain on the ground. They were mostly out of the splash zone. It wouldn't be a big explosion anyway, not like the previous ones; her soul was pretty fragmented, and she could feel her magic weakening substantially. And she was really, really bored. So, as the cannon roared beside her and she felt the burning metal blistering her skin, she belted out over the twin storms of thunder and Void in a voice that would carry for a mile:

"SHOT GOING DOWN! WATCH YOUR SHIT!" She waited for a moment, giving time for people to move out of the way if they wanted to.

And then, a whispered "Boom."

With an enormous smile on her face, she let the shot fly. A burning fireball hurtled forth, rocketing down to the ogre at tremendous speed before detonating. She'd aimed for its chest cavity, but she was high up enough that she honestly had no idea where it'd gone. It had been even smaller than she'd anticipated, honestly. Guess she had the four flames she'd ripped out of her a minute or two prior to thank for that. But the sound lit her up inside nonetheless. She leaned back slightly and called into the crystal chamber, "If you need me, I'll be up here. Keep channeling, Galeil. I'll deal with it if you need defense."

Another cracking sound. Another reload. And as she waited for the charge, she turned her attention inward, fire dancing along her fingertips. Wouldn't do to make that promise and not keep it, after all. And though the soulflames in the windows should help, one never did know, and she should never shirk her duty.

Maker damn you, Mom.