Location: Uhladein, Eastern Marches

---

Lexann took a step forward with a flashy twirl of her hammer, but the ogre suddenly began to change. She held her breath against the awful smell and her glare sharpened against the creature as it twisted into an abomination. It was a terrifying creature, but fear slid off Lexann like the rain on her skin. She opened her mouth to yell at the void ogre, to capture its attention before it chose an easier target; but thunder clapped in the skies above, drowning her war cry out. So it continued at its first target, the small hunter who tore its flesh apart once already.

The monster hunter was suddenly between the ogre and its target: a formidable ally that stopped Lexann in her tracks. The last thing she wanted was to get in the way of that. She watched through the storm as the white haired hunter deflected the ogre's first attack, in the same time growing an extra limb to toss the other hunter aside. And then-- she was gone. Lexann blinked, her eyes following the sword as it stuck itself into the tower. Things like this were bound to happen on the battlefield, Lexann knew that. There'd be time to be shocked and sad later. For now--

“Eyes open big girl!”

Exactly. Though what she thought was a call to action, Lexann soon realized was just a call to "Oh, oh, look at me! Watch this." Lexann braced herself against the white heat as the woman blasted fire into the creature. And then--

Boom!

A gasp escaped Lexann's lips as she was thrown off her feet by the power of the explosion. As her back hit the ground, though, she swung the weight of her feet up and back. She flipped back to stick the landing, using the hammer's weight to counteract the movement and stand straight. It hurt more than taking a hit from the ogre, but she was better off than the small hunter who shot like an arrow into the stone and dirt.

Lexann shook her head as her senses readjusted. The ogre was down, and it was time to finish the job. Though it was one thing after another working with other hunters: she looked up at the tower as someone shouted down to them. She had thought only pyromancers were up there to maintain the ember against the void. But she blinked as another fire grew and suddenly shot at the ground. Luckily, the first explosion from the other hunter had distanced her away from the target and Lexann only needed to raise her arms against the blast to stand against it this time. The wave of heat pushed at her before she lowered her arms and paused for a moment, waiting for the next flashy thing to happen.

But there was a sudden calm as the ogre finally disappeared into ash and the claps of thunder became quieter rumbles. Lexann lowered her shoulders, letting out a tired sigh. It seemed like the parade of crazy things had ended.

"Eh?" Or not.

A woman riding a Roc dropped from the sky, using what was left of the flesh and bone as a steed. It disappeared into dust and the blue haired hunter gracefully flipped onto her feet, giggling as the rain cleared. Lexann looked up at the sky, then back to the woman, puzzled but entertained by her descent. Lexann opened her mouth to greet the other-- but suddenly hesitated, remembering the poor hunter who was thrown to the ground for maybe the 3rd time in just one battle. The hammer in her hands disappeared as she turned away to jog over to the wild haired hunter, reaching to take her hand and help her up.

"That was-- er, loud. And bright!" she commented uselessly. Her somber expression had melted away completely, though her voice was still loud. "That was incredible, how do you do that? Are you a pyromancer? That would explain the friendly fire." She laughed at herself, clapping the other on the back a little too hard.

Despite her question, she didn't give the other a chance to answer. "Wow, you're healing quickly! I guess I'll check for other survivors. I'm Lexann, by the way-- Shit!" She stopped babbling suddenly and looked around. Between the dozens of explosions, the Forge seemed to have been misplaced. "Sorry, I gotta go," she said, finally letting go of the woman's hand to search for the missing forbidden weapon.

Location: Uhladein, Eastern Marches

---

hurt?

no.

empty. cold. like always. wanted to move but nothing was left to move and nowhere was left to move to. why? where did it go? couldn't remember. rainfall. heat. burning up. flame inside, flame outside, only there was no inside or outside left. where did it go, then?

Heartbeat. Not hers. Different, but familiar. Warmth flowed down her arm. Right, she had an arm, but there was more there. An elbow that could bend, head and shoulders, another limb, a spine to tie them all together... and a brain to think with.

Now it was starting to make sense, but it was still too complicated. Like trying to solve only half of a puzzle. Too many pieces missing. She needed more, but she was empty.

Hungry.

Heartbeat. Hers this time. Embers sputtered and choking ash burst from the drooping shell of her severed arm, and slowly, steadily, the blade lodged in the wall began to shudder, a high pitched, keening whine emanating from its resonant edge as the stones surrounding it began to crack.

Still dark. Couldn't see. Eyes. She needed eyes. She still had some of those left, right? Not hers. But they'd do. Where did they go again? Ah, it hardly mattered. What mattered was that she could see -- and what she saw filled her with the most exquisite sense of regret.

That one had been her prey. Her feast. She was so hungry, and yet, she hadn't been quick enough. No, rather, she'd allowed herself to be distracted, and now that moment of clarity was forever denied to her, its brilliance fading like the dying echoes of the distant thunder. And now, what was left? A meagre helping of leftovers, hardly enough to whet her appetite... Ah, where were they heading, anyway? The tower? She'd been trying to protect that, but couldn't recall why. Her brains were still mostly smeared on that wall over there. If only she could sate this unbearable hunger, maybe it would all make sense again...

The stone cracked. The sword fell. The arm still "holding" it tensed, as the eyestalks sprouting from its severed end retracted back into the blade, and were replaced by an amorphous, swelling mass. Bone and flesh and flesh and bone and stone and blood and teeth and it all came crashing down together. All as one. All as one.

As a small group of voidlings pushed their luck, taking advantage of Lex and Rain's distraction to sprint for the entrance to the keep, a shadow suddenly fell over them. They hardly had time to raise their heads before a vast indescribable thing fell upon them. The ground shook. The void vanished within a cloud of dust that turned to steam, and the sickening smell of rotten flesh boiling from the bone filled the air.

It wasn't enough. Her prey -- gone. Her body -- incomplete. Her hunger -- endless.

A writhing mass of muscle tissue burst forth from the cloud with all the speed and force of a serpent striking at its prey. A ribcage adorned the end of this hideous limb, opened wide -- then shutting around another voidling like the jaws of a beast. Its body swelled up as the bone "jaws" dug into it, crushing it and dragging it back into the swelling cloud of steam and fetid miasma. Then another tendril burst forth, and another -- countless writhing arms shooting out with all the swiftness of a bullet and the precision of a hawk.

A burbling sound came from within the fog as the steam and vile odor began to clear. Something massive, well over five times the size of a human, could momentarily be seen, silhouetted by the flickering embers that danced amidst the smoke and ashes of the battlefield. That burble split into what sounded like several voices all at once -- some human, others impossible to determine. One by one, this unnatural chorus died out, until only one voice remained -- the voice of a woman who laughed as tears streamed down her face, and she stepped from the fog, sword in hand -- or rather, hand firmly placed within the grasping coils of her crimson sword. Though her old attire had been completely destroyed, she yet remained clad in a ragged mantle -- no, not a mantle, but rather, the skin of her own back, flayed almost entirely beyond recognition, its trailing bulk draped over her shoulders like a sickening, fleshy cloak.

Crying eyes wide and bloodshot, she scanned the battlefield with twitching pupils, as drool dripped from her mouth, and she slowly, numbly, raised a hand with far too many fingers to wipe it away. When she drew back her hand, her lips curled upwards in a smile.

"More."

With a gentle tug, the sword affixed to her arm led her onward. Yes, onward, deeper and deeper into darkness; for though the mightiest peak had already fallen by the hands of another, there were yet mountains to be felled, were there not?

Location: Uhladein, Eastern Marches

---

How far could it have gone? Lexann remembered exactly where she had stuck the massive block of metal in favor of her two handed weapon, but it had been blown away. She came to a pause where the ground was scorched black from the flames and heat of the hunters' attacks. Her gaze wandered after its possible trajectory, but the void entered her line of sight. The explosions had blown the remaining goblins aside, but they had most recovered and were attacking again in full force. "Ah..." she hummed, looking down at her empty hands as they formed into fists.

Her head tilted, releasing some tightness in her shoulders and neck with a quiet pop. Lexann's gaze focused, a frown relaxed her lips, and she raised her natural weapons. Down she swung with a yell against the enemy, fingers opening for just a moment as she grabbed a void goblin by its head. Under her hand, its head popped into black tar against the stone. A spiderling's mandibles snapped at her, but she was already reaching out for one of its legs. Another war cry erupted into the air as she raised, swinging the spiderling over her head and dashing it against the ground. Not a moment to hesitate, her other fist was swinging at another as she stood from her crouch. The jabs alone wouldn't kill the void, but could keep it just at bay as she grabbed another victim.

It was far more exhausting than fighting with a weapon or even the Forge on her arm: if she wasn't breaking their bodies against the ground and stone, Lexann had to tear them apart, stabbing her hands into their bodies and pulling in opposite directions until they split like a watermelon under a bat. She could feel her ember burning hotter and hotter against the fatigue, but she couldn't stop, not yet. The hunter yelled again, determination refueling, and further into the fray she went.

Even in her state, Lexann was paying attention to where she moved on the battle field. She had made a guess on which direction she lost her shield to, and she was slowly but surely moving through the void towards it. A glint of metal caught her eye, distracting for just a moment as the void raked claws against her face. Crying out in pain and anger, her fist shot out to return the blow to the goblins face. As it dropped, she stomped her boot down at it and used the power she sent into the ground to suddenly dash. She brushed blood from her eyes and she could see it, lying uselessly on the ground. Up she jumped over the void, landing with a crouch before the Forge.

Lexann glanced back as the void followed her, intent to take advantage as her back suddenly turned at them. But she gripped the shield at each corner facing her--an awkward hold even for the hunter--and suddenly swung it back as she stood. The dragon's head on the front clobbered through the void like a bowling ball through cheese. "Come on!" she taunted before properly equipping the weapon again.

Location: Uhladein, Eastern Marches

---

At the edge of Quinnlash's vision, the ogre crumpled into itself with one last roar, dissolving into rancid nothingness as her cannon burned it away, scattering whatever remained of it to the wind and rain.

Near the walls, Ice Queen piloted down the smoldering remnants of a Void roc’s carcass as it crumbled.

The last echo of thunder from the retreating storm rumbled in the distance.

Outside the walls, the Void's screaming grew louder.

She closed her eye and enjoyed the noise, desperately savoring the cacophony; a gorgeous symphony of explosions and screaming. Really, what could be better? What better way was there to spend her new life?

When she opened her eye again, the boiling gray clouds overhead had exhausted themselves. The final trickles of rain dripped down from the archway where she was standing, one or two more drops making its way into the soggy mess that was now her hair, braid long undone and the strands lying sopping wet over her shoulders and back. She spat a strand out in irritation, but grinned all the same. They’d made it through with…well, not a minimum of casualties—Zecimia had been a Hunter for a very long time now, and she frankly had no idea how many humans had met their ends at the ravening maws of the Void.

But she was fine. And in the end, wasn’t that what was important?

From below came a new sound, and she looked down. Far below her, she could see the heaving mass of sickening flesh that was now consuming Voidlings whole. She rolled her eye. "Fuckin’ drama queen." But Freakshow's little performance wasn’t what was making the sound. No, that was the army of skittering Void spider-things that were rapidly swarming up the walls. And, if her ears were right as usual, they were starting to climb up the forever-echoing elevator shaft as well. The smile grew wider. This was gonna be fun!

She leapt from the arched window into a quick, graceful half-turn. Or it would have been graceful, if her mop of hair hadn’t whirled around and slapped her in the face, sending her stumbling. She growled deep in her throat, hating how embarrassing it was. So in lieu of any further acrobatics, she rent her soul again, replacing the soulflame in the window where she’d just been standing. All four windows were filled now with roaring fire now. There was absolutely no way a Voidling could ever punch through. Her growl turned into a deep and protracted groan of pain, which in turn transformed into guttural words to Galiel and his cohort of imbeciles.

"Heads up. There’s about to be a lot of screaming from the windows, and you’re gonna hear more screaming and several explosions from the elevator shaft. You're safe, you'll be fine. Those fires can't burn out, and I'll be below. Don’t you dare lose focus. Rain stopped, we’re almost through this mess. Don’t fuck it up now."

Down the gaping hole in the center, she watched as the gray walls were slowly encroached with black, skittering shapes. And though they shied away from the light of the Emberstone, they wouldn’t shy away enough. She reloaded, and her pained smile grew wider and sharper. This was what she lived for.

Then, with a low chuckle, she toppled over the edge.

As she plummeted, she twisted in the air with jets of flame until she was falling legs-down. Her cannon began its low roar. Not a high charge for sure, and she certainly didn’t have a lot left in her. But the fragments that she’d torn away before were beginning to become whole again, and the flame that was her ember was burning brighter. She took aim at the leading edge of the swarm—where the fuck were they all coming from, anyway?—and her chuckle became an unhinged laugh as the flower bloomed once more. The flash of firelight lit the inside just as the lightning had Uhladein, and in the confined space, the sound of the cannon was the roll of thunder.

She let the blast carry her a ways back up the shaft, reloading as she went, and slowed her fall with a steady stream of flames. Still, by the time the thunder in Undying Light was ready again, she’d drawn level with the rapidly escalating spider-things. Another blast, another flash of lightning, another roar of thunder. This time she went straight to the other wall, striking it just as the spiders reached her. She reloaded again and kicked off the wall, forcing a jet of flame out from her foot as she did. It rolled down the tower, melting shrieking, chittering things into putrid nothing as it went. With the force from the kick she bounced back to the center of the tower, just above the encroaching black. Her smile winked out, her lips went tight. As much as she wanted to, she couldn't just keep doing this. She had something important to protect. This could no longer be fun.

Time. She needed more time. She needed her cannon to charge. Her eye flicked back up the shaft. The Void was only about fifty feet down now from the Hearthfire now, and less every second. They were so much faster than she’d thought.

Time. She had no time. By the time Undying Light was ready, the pyromancers above would be slaughtered. She hated this. She hated all of this. But she wouldn't leave them, obviously. She couldn't. Because—

The flicker of a familiar voice began to ring in her ears—

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.

Before she'd realized, she'd put Undying Light on her back—

You are a pyromancer. Pyromancers like us are the final line. You must not abandon your comrades.

Every muscle tensed—

You are a pyromancer.

Her whole body shook—

You are a pyromancer.

Her ember surged—The volcano erupted—

YOU ARE THE FINAL LINE.

Her eye snapped wide—ignited and incandesced within her skull—felt like it was bubbling—

And with a raw, untempered scream of agony, rage, and desperate fear—

She tapped into her inner flame—

And let the power flow.

Blazing arcs of fire roared out of her hands and she halted in the air, suspended by her own withering heat. Her untied hair flew upwards in the sudden dry wind and whipped around her head like a great ashen crown.

The lightning came, and refused to fade.

The thunder rolled forever.

The tower was bathed with a fierce and wild light as she scoured the walls around her, turning any Voidlings the blaze so much as neared into a snowfall of ash and cinders. A distant part of her was frustrated that her soul was so splintered, or else she could have done so much more _{mama would be disappointed in me.} But the rest of her mind blazed with its own flame as memories tore through it, fragmented memories that she’d buried so very deep within.

After what felt like hours but must have only been a minute or so, the lightning ebbed, and the thunder went quiet. Her embersoul raged within her entire body, the sudden and massive use of pyromancy stoking the furnace until she was sure her skin would split and she would bleed lava. The light went out of her, and she began to fall. The swarm was still coming, but she’d pushed it back enough. The pyromancers would be able to light the Hearth before they could climb to the top again. Gritting her teeth to stop another scream from tearing her throat as pain wracked her failing body, she ripped Undying Light from her back. It quaked against her, and she could feel and smell the hot metal cooking the skin and flesh of her trembling hands. She gave vent to one last roar, and one last time, the lightning flashed.

With no flame left within her to correct her course, she blasted out of the great shaft trailing fire, smoke, and ash, and slammed into the unforgiving stone wall twenty feet off the ground. She fell to the floor in a crumpled heap, hacking and wheezing. Her ember flared even hotter as it began to fix her blackened, battered form. She was pretty sure she was crying. Memories splintered into fractals in her mind as she desperately tried to blot them out the only way she knew how. Pulling herself to her hands and knees, she groaned through her teeth, wiped the burned charcoal stain of what was once blood from her face, and spat furiously at the pyromancers as the crystal began to glow brighter:

"You’re fucking welcome, you fucking garbage."

Location: Uhladein, Eastern Marches

---

Minute by agonizing minute passed at a crawl as Quinnlash's ember blazed within her, searing lines of brilliant orange flame burning down her cuts, her bruises, her burns and broken bones. Her hacking persisted, turning into a guttural cough as she managed to half-crawl up the unforgiving stone that had so unceremoniously stopped her flight and prop herself up against it. Her legs finally stopped shaking under her. The skin on her hands un-cooked itself, and she hacked up and spat out a glob of red saliva on the ground, hoping to get the taste of blood and ash out of her mouth before too long. Tasted like shit. Flexed her arms, rolled her shoulders, rolled her neck, cracked her knuckles. Felt like she was still in one piece, at least, wouldn't need to regenerate a whole arm or anything.

Holding her hand out in front of her and glaring at it, she flicked her wrist and found that the flame had returned to her, a flickering orb dancing above her outstretched palm. She stared at it for a moment longer, eyes almost...mournful, then her lips turned up in a sneer and she snuffed it out, still trying to shut out the memories that were even now lingering around the edges of her mind.

The warm glow of the relit hearthfire crystal washed over her just like like she imagined the sun would've, with a gentle light and comforting warmth. Or, "gentle" and "comforting" to everyone else, probably. The bright light made her eye hurt—still searing with pain from her little stunt—and the heat just made the raging furnace within her more uncomfortable. Great. Rubbing her hands over her face, she finally stood straight, resettling Undying Light on her back and giving it a reassuring pat. What a beautiful thing it was. What beautiful flowers bloomed from it.

She gave her head a quick shake, as though to chase off the still-clinging memories like dust and cobwebs, and was met with...

...Well, it annoyed her. And that was about it. But that was okay too. Anything was better than just sitting there remembering. Even dying. She definitely would've let herself fall to the tower's floor far, far below if it meant this wouldn't happen. So she reacted the best way she knew. She got angry.

"Yo. Galiel. What's the deal? You and your crowd of heroes pulled through. Good job." her caustic voice overflowed with sarcasm and tension, and pain that she tried very hard to bury. Her hair hanging loose around her shoulders was definitely frustrating her too. And probably ruining the effect. So, as was simply the way of things...

She got angrier.

"So are you gonna thank me already or what?"

Location: Uhladein, Eastern Marches

---

Memories still too close, still just beneath the surface of her mind, Quinnlash felt them surging back, along with an intense and personal anger. A furious noise halfway between a cough and a choke came out of Quinnlash's mouth. Her eye widened. Her muscles tightened. Before she could stop herself, she'd taken a half-step towards Galiel and her hand strayed reflexively back to rest on her cannon. And her clenched fist glowed suddenly, for just a moment, with a light like the sun before she snuffed the light out. The caldera of anger that lived at her core, burning just as bright as her ember, began to quake. How dare he. How dare he. How dare he?

"Don't you say a goddamn thing about her!"

The words came out of her without warning, a strangled and aborted half-yell chopping and mangling her voice nearly to the point of incomprehensibility, and she needed to fight to stop herself from lunging forward and punching him out. She clenched her hands into tight fists at her sides, digging her fingernails into her palm to try and focus on something other than his stupid smug face. Deep down, deeper down than she could even recognize, a part of her—a part both fearful and fragile, one that she'd managed to convince herself was long, long gone—was absolutely terrified of Ezlineia—of mama—being disappointed in her. And that blade of fear axed through her, cutting straight into her seething, searing heart before she managed to rip it out and crush it down again.

So, she turned her back to Galiel, facing the crystal of the Hearthfire and walking forward as she reached behind herself and hacked her hair into something resembling her trademark braid. Was a bit messy, but it was at least recognizable, and it'd keep her hair out of her face, so all told, it was doing its job. Mission accomplished. Whipping it back behind her, she looked around between the young pyromancers, meeting their eyes in turn (though one wouldn't even look her in the eye at all, the spineless fucking coward). And then finally, voice dripping with scorn only barely restrained, "Do better next time."

Then once more, foregoing the elevator—why even bother with it at this point—she reloaded her cannon and leapt into the shaft. She'd done her duty as a pyromancer. Protected them. Been the final line. Now that the nagging memory was silent, she couldn't care less what they did or what happened to them. Wasn't her job anymore, and she certainly wasn't going to spend more time around that fucker Galiel out of the kindness of her heart.

As she plummeted, the floor beneath her came into focus. The other Hunters would be back here soon. Good. People she could take it out on if she wanted. Maybe she could convince Freakshow to fight her. That might be fun.

One last billowing blaze from her cannon's maw, one last burst of pyromancy just to make sure she didn't break something on landing, and she was on solid ground again. Facing the door, she planted Undying Light into the ground barrel end down and rested her elbow on it casually, waiting. Boiling inside that she'd need to see Galiel again to get their orders. Be a good girl. Ugh. Was enough to make her sick.

Location: Uhladein, Eastern Marches

---

Aah, it wasn't enough. It wasn't nearly enough.

The sound of metal scraping over the flagstones, and the sound of bare feet splashing over the frigid pavement were the only sounds that accompanied her passage, save the whistling wind and the distant thunder. The din of battle had ended, and the symphony of screams and steel that had brought her such clarity was now but a distant memory, lost in a fog of blood and pain.

What corrupted stragglers she could find amongst the ruins of the gatehouse had offered her scarcely any resistance, nor had they provided her even the barest minimum of sustenance. With the euphoria of victory stolen from her, all that remained was a deep and enduring hunger -- a hunger she only barely managed to restrain herself from indulging as she saw the bodies of the fallen defenders all around her.

But she did manage to pull herself away. These were warriors, after all. Warriors who had died an honorable death defending their homes and their people. She would not allow herself to desecrate the last monument to their perseverance. So instead, she raised her gaze to the sky, and distracted herself with wondering what the rain must have felt like upon her numb skin. She could hardly even feel the searing embers buried within her chest, so Fianna supposed that she must have been cold. Yet it still was difficult for her to tell if the thing twitching, shuddering, crawling and writhing underneath her skin was her own body in response to a chill she could not feel, or the sword she wielded continuing to improve her new body.

Pointless.

"...That will be all, Amaryllis." She said, reaching gently down with her free hand and grasping the sword by the roots. It seemed to get the message, as a moment later, its blade unraveled into countless metallic threads, each sinking back into the arm that reformed beneath it, and disappearing from view. Her legs lost their strength, and she slumped against the broken gates as a final wave of shivering, and something that for a moment approached pain wracked her entire body -- then all was still once more.

She cast one final glance to the corpses piled around her, and gave the faintest of sighs. The oldest lesson she had ever learned repeated itself once again in thoughts far too sweet to be her own.

"...Do not worry. I won't forget. You can rest now."

She received no answer. The distant thunder rolled, and as her body at last finished knitting itself back together, the towering woman at last realized she was naked. Another body destroyed, another set of rags lost along with it. She sighed once more, and gave a slight kick to one of the more intact corpses at her feet, turning the dead man over. She wouldn't part him with his flesh, but... She supposed he wouldn't be needing his cloak anymore, either. Surely, he could spare at least that much.

So, she stooped, fumbling with her many fingers to undo the clasp of its collar and drape the garment over her own shoulders without dragging it through too much of the blood pooling on the ground. Wrapped in this ragged mantle, and still dripping from head to toe, the pale huntress at last turned her gaze back towards the keep.

Once again, she had failed to die as expected... which meant there would yet be more work to be done. The luxury of rest was one reserved for the dead -- and so, the sound of bare feet splashing over the flagstones was heard once more, as the pale huntress began shambling back -- leaving one battlefield, in search of another.

Location: Uhladein, Eastern Marches

---

...But there was nothing more to confront. Lexann's muscles relaxed and the Forge was set upon the ground, its flames receding into its depths as she used it instead to lean against for just a moment. Her ember within had flared during the battle, pushing her body to its limits when she was on the search for her shield. Now she ached and terribly missed the rain that cooled her skin against the fire within. "Just a moment," she reminded herself and stood tall again. Later there would be drinks and a bed--she could rest then. A stretch of her arms, a roll of her shoulders, and Lexann rested the Forge over her back.

Like any trained soldier, Lexann would make her way back to where the hunters had first assembled to fight against the void. Though she was still easily distracted and quick to offer a hand-- a survivor here, she took his hand and pulled him onto his feet. A survivor there, she offered her weight for him to lean against until someone else could help him off to the busy medics. The soldiers were no hunters, but she found out they had held out against the Void where even some hunters had failed when she finally came upon the small band.

Her hand raised in a fist, then her eyes flickered to the hunters as one finger extended for each: a tiny one with a large...barrel, the flurry of fire she had stood with against the ogre, a tall and mysterious woman that instilled...fear? into Lexann, and the elegant Roc rider lost in her own thoughts. One for herself and she looked down at her hand. Five fingers, five hunters.

The fist closed again and she exhaled. Then Lexann stepped forward to slap the blue haired woman on the back with a grin. "Those bastards exploded more! Time for beer!" she suggested simply.

Location: Uhladein, Eastern Marches

---

"You're damn right she exploded!"

There was no better word for Quinnlash's voice than crowing, and a massive smile cracked across her face. Without any apparent effort, she hefted the massive metal bulk of Undying Light off the stone of the keep and back onto her shoulder, letting it rest there instead of throwing it back into the sling, carrying it like a particularly massive greatsword. Absent of any soul flames within it, it sat still and quiet, the blazing heat that so often suffused it replaced with the ubiquitous chill of Uhladein.

Then she ambled over to where the other Hunters were gathered. Her eye flickered and flashed like an ember itself as most of the torn-away fragments of her soul mended themselves one after another, and she couldn't help but let out a quiet relieved sigh. There was no way to properly explain what it was like having your soul fragmented. Which also meant there was no way to explain how good it felt when it reformed (at least as far as anything could really feel good at all). Which, of course, she needed to follow up with,

"And that means she died first this time! 'Bout time she got what she fuckin' deserved!" A few more moments, and she skidded to a stop at the gathering point. And the first thing she did upon arrival was...

...To snap out a fist quick as a blink and clock Fianna right in the jaw. Hard. There were twin violent cracking sounds of bones splintering under an impact: one from Fianna's face where there was now a noticeable crater, and one from Quinnlash's own hand, which she shook out as the light of her embersoul gleamed over it and shoved the blood and bone of the multiple compound fractures back under the skin. The other Midnosian Hunter, on the other hand, went down like a ton of bricks. She hit the ground like a rock and didn't get up again. There was a faint, almost musical tinkling as half a dozen teeth knocked free from her face bounced to the stones.

"Don't think I didn't fucking notice what you called me up on the wall, Freakshow!" She spat violently on the flagstones in the general direction of the crumpled form of the Hunter in question, saliva still stained blackish. The taste of blood, ash and charcoal in her mouth was the strongest thing she'd tasted in a long time. "You know damn well what my name is!"

That done, she turned her attention away from the momentarily immobile ghost-pale figure, snapping her attention to the other three. Her eye roved over them quickly: the Prentisian ice queen, the crazy pink girl who'd jumped in front of a fucking ogre strike—seriously, what?—and then of course, the melter. Who, out of everyone, Quinnlash finally saw fit to talk to. She couldn't help it, really. Just the presence of a melter usually presaged their inevitable burnout and ashing. And yet somehow this one had not only survived, but seemed to have come out of it mostly okay. In no small part thanks to me, of course. She wasn't really sure how it'd happened. But it was kind of neat that it had.

"Goddamn, melter, but you showed some fuckin' mettle out there, didn't ya?" She reached out the still slightly broken hand and punched the girl on the shoulder. Gently, this time. Or. Well, gentler, at least, than what she'd done to Fianna. Decidedly not gentle. "Figured you'd be a fine pile of soot on the ground right about now. Good shit."

She pulled back slightly from the melter to address all the Hunters as a collective, as Fianna started to lurch upright in that creepy fucking way she always did``. "Name's Quinnlash Loughvein, coming out of Midnos. Stay outta my way, don't fuck up, and we won't have any trouble, got it?" She turned to the pink haired hunter, smiling the jagged smile of a wild animal. "Beer's shit. Can't taste it anyway. Might as well get something that'll get the job done."

Location: Uhladein, Eastern Marches

---

Fianna wasn't expecting a welcome upon her return. During her short stay in Uhladein, the Scilan Hunters she had been assigned along with hadn't so much as spoken a word in her presence. It wasn't as if she blamed them, of course. They might have been her own countrymen, but considering who was holding her leash, she surely must have seemed an enemy in their eyes... assuming they even knew who she had been in the first place. And given the fact that the lot of them had been barely more than children, she highly doubted that.

And now they were dead. What did you expect, when you sent children to a battlefield? She would know, of course, having marched onto her first battlefield at a young age herself. She'd been stupid, and reckless, and... And she had been lucky to have her father to keep her in check.

The Scilan brats she'd fought alongside didn't have that luxury. What, was she supposed to protect them? It was all she'd been able to do not to lose herself and devour them before the void could!

Thinking about it like that, she could almost pretend she hadn't tried. Hadn't failed, more like --

“Hey! Hey Granny!”

The rag-wrapped huntress froze at the voice. Although it had come from right in front of her, it still took her a moment to realize she was being addressed. She reached a hand awkwardly out from under her makeshift poncho, two thumbs and six fingers twisting themselves clumsily through a tangled strand of her own grey hair. Right... Hunters might not age, but that didn't mean that her physiology was immutable. Just how long ago had the color faded from her hair -- her skin -- her eyes? The days were like molasses, but the years were like lightning...

But there was someone talking to her. Someone who, when she looked down, made her realize that perhaps she hadn't failed entirely.

There had been one other child on the battlefield, after all. And now, that same child was standing in front of her, gazing up at her with... with...

Well, understanding people's feelings had never been her strong suit, even before her life had fallen apart. At any rate, the girl seemed excited.

“You exploded!”

"...Yes...?"

Fianna blinked, staring quizzically down at the girl with a blank expression as, a little ways away, a woman with blue hair quickly concurred. That one was... some manner of huntress from Prentiss, if she recalled correctly, though Fianna hadn't quite managed to piece her brains back together well enough yet to recall the woman's name. Still, she and the towering pink-haired woman next to her seemed... oddly happy about the whole situation. Everyone else who'd come to this city with them was dead, right? And of all the people to survive, they'd been left with Fianna the Bloody. It defied reason that any of them would get anywhere near her -- let alone this child looking up at her with such an odd expression. She felt the strangest of urges to reach out and tousle the girl's hair, but mastered this impulse almost as soon as she felt it -- it wouldn't do to show a gesture of affection when one's hands were still in such a sorry state, after all.

But there had been one more among their number, right? A certain someone had hefted a brick at her head. Where was she, anyway? Perhaps she had gone and gotten herself killed again.

It was around that point that a familiarly annoying voice chimed into the conversation, and shortly thereafter, the fist connected with her face. Next thing Fianna knew, she was on the ground, staring up at the sky. She tried to open her mouth to say something, but apparently her jaw had come unhinged. Ah, how annoying... just when she'd gotten done fixing it. And to make matters worse, her brains were sloshing around again, like so many little insects crawling and scuttling inside her head.

Still, at least her head was clearer now. Things didn't seem so strange anymore. This was what she was used to. This was how it was supposed to be. She didn't have to think about anything anymore. All she needed to do was hate.

Her jaw crawled back across her face and helpfully climbed back into its socket. She clicked her tongue once, then twice -- then spat out a mass of white shards that had probably once been teeth. No matter. She had plenty to spare. In place of her canine, a spider's dripping fang poked out from behind her lips, pulling them open in a paralyzed, lopsided grin as a row of goblin teeth quickly emerged alongside it. Crimson strands of metal, supple as spider's silk, wound their way out of her feet and into the stones beneath her, wrenching her body upward as her knees and ankles rotated in place to allow her to "stand," then snapped back with a crack. Her concussion sorted itself one way or the other, and her vacant scarlet eyes refocused themselves on the noisome dog of Midnos still yapping in front of her.

"Oh. So you were here too, Quinn. Forgive me. I assumed you'd be off burning in a ditch somewhere by now, like usual." Like a dreamer waking from a long sleep, the pale woman stretched her arms, giving a long yawn, and speaking with a disinterest that belied the blood still streaming down her face. "So you didn't die this time, then. What, you want me to fix that for you?" She drawled, wiping the blood from her lip before giving another, even longer yawn.

"So needy."

Location: Uhladein, Eastern Marches

---

Lexann's hand shot to her mouth, a feeble attempt to hide the surprise in her wide eyes and wider, incredulous grin. It all happened so fast, that she couldn't figure out what surprised her the most: the one-eyed hunter decking the taller one, the taller one dropping like a board, or the way her flesh and bone seemed to crawl back together like spiders. Politely, her eyes followed the teeth she spat out onto the floor--only for them to be gathered up by the small hunter. The scene was chaotic, but at least it was interesting. "Lots of beer," she muttered to herself, hand moving to rub at the back of her neck as her brows furrowed together.

She blinked once at the blue haired hunter's soft comment, another reminder that Lexann seemed to be the greenest one among the five. She considered her words for a moment while the rest were distracted with each other, and her lips parted to ask about Zecimia--

“Oi! You two!”

"Eh?"

Lexann held her palm open for the reward bestowed upon her by the hero of Uglydein. She wasn't one to miss a beat though. She bowed to the other hunter and mimicked the graceful wave of her hand. "Thank you, great hero." She watched who she realized was just a girl hide the rest of the teeth away safely and promptly followed suit and put her tooth in a pocket, giving it a pat of finality. There was no need to explain that she would be throwing the creepy thing away as soon as she could.

"What’s beer!”

Now Lexann slapped her knee, laughing at the exclamation. Her laughter receded into giggles, but she nodded in agreement with the blue haired hunter-- formalities first, beer later, she knew the drill. Lexann was just happy others were on board, and excited to treat the youngest to her first pint. Drinking with others was the real fun. Her giggles finally stopped and Lexann released a long exhale, jaw sore from the smiling.

"Everyone here held their own, huh? You took down the Roc on your own while we struggled with an ugly ogre," she said to her. Then she stuck her hand out to offer a handshake and introduction. "Lexann Stormbrew. Pleasure to meet you. And you, too, fireball." Her gaze moved between them and briefly to the other two.