---

"Lirrah." Irian nodded. "New friends are indeed worth the effort."

Lirrah would be continuing what she does best if it hadn't been for Kayliss, which caused the Nem's attention span to shift straight to trying out discounts on her. Truly a merchant indeed. He decided to listen to the ongoing discussion around the strategies they were going to employ. Baiting out enemies were more in the minds of the soldiers around here than he expected. The only disagreement that the group was having was more of the methodology of doing it, which Irian found a little amusing that it was more of how much they could trick a suspicious opponent. To him, if the opponent was suspicious enough to not take the bait on the caravan strategy, then luring out their entire group with a raiding party would just be biting on rocks a little harder. The difference there would just be the degree of the cultist's arrogance. If anything, what would concern him more would be how devastating the Lions can inflict on the enemy and to that Irian believed more on Velvetica's initial strategy. Caravan ambush is a lot easier to envelope and completely decimate the cultists rather than relying on good warriors to lure enemies out through fighting capabilities.

What the Steel Princess decided on was more trying to offend the cultists instead to actually lure them out into a fight, which made sense too. Pretty much an element from both of their strategies combined, without the need to risk the Nem merchant and their supplies. If they took the bait and walked directly into an ambush, then perfect, one less enemy for Velts. And if they were competent enough, well now they knew. The elf simply followed along with his arms crossed, his silence conveying his agreements.

"I'll ambush." Irian said tersely. "It's better, and I'm certain the princess wants archers at the backline anyway."

@VitaVitaAR

"And here I thought this evening was going to be boring..."

Urden wasn't much of one to comment on tactics and grand strategy, mostly since he wasn't paid to in this case, but the disagreements and discussion seemed to have led to a new plan. New plan was simple enough. One group, smash the idols and bait the corpse defilers into coming out to play a game of catch the vandal. Then the other group would come down on them like the wrath of the gods, if one put sufficient gravitas into such things. Figure they cared so much, they could have intervened already, but he wasn't about to spark a religious debate before heading off to battle. No, seemed like the Lions were being given a chance to pick their roles with final discretion to the Boss herself. Not a bad way to pick out companion's dispositions in regards to conflict, which gave him plenty to consider since others had chimed in so far before him.

Merchant was haggling with Ms. Daggers over poisons and such. Not much use for those in his line of work, if an axe to the torso didn't kill, you kept on trying. Still, can't fault the planning ahead. A mortal stab wound is already hard enough to focus past, add in something nasty chewing through you and its even worse. He hadn't done much shopping as of yet, he didn't need supplies and was frugal with his coin, not frittering it away on niceties and luxuries beyond boozing in taverns and alehouses. Every man had his vice, though on the war path he was cautious to drink, never knew when trouble would come knocking. Or tearing through a tent flap, screaming bloody murder. Since the Merchant was intent on coming along, well, that made the bait team that much more appetizing, and that was before the smashing of ritual idols was factored in. Whoever was on the bait and raid team would have a real good time, he might just wager.

'Hector', as the Lamia had so keenly gotten wrong, was next to chime in. Volunteered for ambush duty, figured. Cavalry types were all the same, regardless of the mount. Had the coin for arms, armor, and supplies to maintain that much of a standing, they always went for the glorious charge, the route and shattering of groups. Paid better too, but he couldn't ride a donkey to save his life, let alone the bloody big bird. No leave the whole 'noble art' of riding to those who could afford to armor both themselves and their steeds, replacing those had to get expensive quickly. Still, having bird man and his pet pigeon in the wings, pun intended, wasn't going to be unwelcome. Especially if something unexpectedly nasty decides to come barreling down on them. Still, he leaned over to the Lamia who had gotten Roger's name wrong, metaphorically ribbing her over the misstep.

"Y'know, since you mentioned it, Roger really does look like a 'Hector', doesn't he? Maybe you should go suggest it as a permanent change? Might just make his week."

The Boy Wonder tasked Istvan with gathering who he wanted for a raiding party, and then deferred to staying in his usual 'ward'. Typical, sending out the competent ones to do the heavy lifting, and then sitting back. Well, not quite sitting back, no one had that luxury, but tasking others before they had a chance to chime in, just rude really. At least pay the poor sod before barking orders. As for Sharp Ears, well, what a surprise the wood elf chose the ambush party. Terse and to the point though, credit where credit was due there. That he could work with, and long as he didn't offend ol' Sharpy there too much he'd be fine. Might want to see how he shoots first though, but they'd have plenty of time for that in the coming battle. He spoke up finally, as casual and relaxed as ever.

"Put me where you want me Boss, I ain't got a preference. No sense mucking up that grand strategy you got brewing in that head of yours, eh?"

@AzureKnight @VitaVitaAR

Ugh. Merchants. A small part of Kayliss couldn't help but admire how quickly the Nem got over her shock and started trying to make a deal with ruthless aggression. The much larger, more sane part of Kayliss's mind was just exasperated. The deal sounded good, certainly. That was, if she actually needed to brew mana-inhibiting poisons on a regular basis. She didn't run through enough of it to necessitate paying for herbs at the constant monthly rate the woman was suggesting.

There were, however, other poisons she had more use for constantly. Ones that were versatile enough for most situations. In that context...well, the deal wasn't too awful. It wasn't as if she had much use for money while her room and board were taken care of by the Lions. Once upon a time, perhaps. But a decade and a half of working for the nation in some capacity meant that the former urchin girl didn't quite have a much of a need for the coin she once pilfered constantly.

"I propose an alteration to the deal. I can be a recurring customer, but for supplies such as these in general. Extend the discount to more herbs of this nature, and I'll consent to making at least one order a month for six months." Kayliss told the merchant flatly, not bothering with the stare now that it seemed an opportunity for business overrode any fear Lirrah had. "Now, show me what you have on hand. Time is of the essence, and I'd prefer to get to...crafting as soon as possible."

@Octo

_{@VitaVitaAR@Crimson Paladin@Eisenhorn}

---

Hraesleg Lions Base Camp

---

At Roger's correction of his name, Valmyra's face tunred a cherry red as her eyes widened. The mission hasn't even started, and she's already getting names wrong...

"Apologies..." She said in a weak, defeated tone. She would elect to remain silent for the time being, until she was addressed directly or had concerns with a given plan. Until that point, she would slump into a depressive state, attempting to avoid drawing further attention to herself.

She would still take note of her other allies, however. The humans (and one Nem) gathered around were quite the motley crew. All of them from different backgrounds and walks of life. The little Nem began discussing poisons with the clocked blonde on the team. The little one seemed to be a merchant by trade, and it showed in her speech... Val was reminded of some of the human merchants she gave patronage to during her town visits. They spoke convincingly and with much enthusiasm - anything to make a sale. Lirrah, was it? She thought to herself. Gods, she hoped she got that name right. She felt there was more to her than meets the eye. The clocked woman, on the other hand, gave off the air of an assassin. Probably no stranger to the subject matter then.

Her thoughts were broken as Urden, another fellow teammate, leaned over to her. She began to pout as she glared at the gruff mercenary. "Oh stop. He's probably annoyed enough as it is!" She said, her face full of exasperation. Turning to their captain, she informed them all that their targets were likely fell worshipers. Val had to keep herself from bearing her fangs at the mention. She thankfully never had a run in with their ilk before, but their sacrilegious actions showed they had no respect for nature. That disgusted her more than anything.

"Captain, I will echo Urden and say I am fine with wherever you feel my skills would work best in. I will say that I am at home in forested terrain and can move nimbly amongst the trees.

@The Otter@VitaVitaAR@Conscripts@AzureKnight

"Please," Shilage replied, voice carrying all the humor of a rockslide. "If it's this that ends me, I deserve it."

In a slow roll along the assembled troops, primarily composed of those whose stars were surest to rise within the Lions (and a merchant), the burly Southron let his gaze fall upon each candidate. In truth, it was few that would serve best within the confines of the first strategy outlined— If he had to sell the lie of lightly guarded caravan...

Guillaume, obviously. A knight polished for parade, bereft of the many underlings that lied behind the title. An attention-grabber, but appearing tantalizingly vulnerable for what he was. An irresistable opportunity to take off the board. With him Melanie— a scribe brought along to etch his noble deeds to the page, perhaps moonlighting as taking inventory of supplies. She carried few weapons upon her person and would thus appear scholarly, civilian. Urden next— hired help. There was little hiding what he was, even if the man ever had a change of heart and cared to— but his presence would indicate both thin and disconnected defenses, a separate party within the wider faction. He'd imply a potential lack of coordination to exploit— as well as signal that the caravaners were uncomfortable with the dearth of force to muster. Finally, he'd pluck Matthias— an all-rounder from the tactician's schools, he could play quite a few prospective roles. Squire. Guild Adventurer. Expedition leader. Magical counsel. Whatever the situation would incline him towards, he would serve a dual purpose of being able to rally enough coordination out of them in the thick of things to minimize loss. Presumably.

Those four he would avoid, for that reasoning. It would remain to be seen if their little Princess would agree— but it would give him a preliminary framework to make his choices. As each of the retinue, eager to prove their talents or versatility, came forth, Istvan kept open ears. In undertone, however, he laid out certainties with Cadmon.

"I'll have Gaston take the smarter ones of my group and feed them into the other division. Make sure things retain some structure. He'll answer to you for that time. Rest of them can run wild and really piss them off with me and..."

"I'll ambush."

"...I will say that I am at home in forested terrain and can move nimbly amongst the trees."

That'd work. Old classic.

"Irian, Valmyra. Do the pair of you fancy an easy night?" he raised his voice to be audible and stepped forward, meeting the Lamia and Elven ranger's eyes with a flinty smile. On another person's face, it likely would have been approachable. "I've a fairly persuasive bunch of assholes under my command, experienced raiders— We'll feign a rout after poking their flank and pull the response behind the treeline, into your waiting fangs."

"I shall remain in reserve," Gisela stated... not that it was ever much in question. If an enemy had even an inkling of caution, blatantly putting a mage into a group would throw out all considerations of bait. There was no way to easily gauge how advantageous it would be to attack in such a situation--did you really have the superiority that you expected? Or could this all be reversed with a single spell?

Not that the Hundi would be of such use in an ambush scenario, making it even more important that she come in with the reinforcements. Hers was not the ability to swiftly change the fate of small-scale engagements, she would be much more useful once the enemy was there in force and separated from the fighting.

Seeing little issue with the choice of assignment her soldiers had given themselves, Velvetica did not choose to intervene.

It was best to prepare as quickly as possible, for tonight was when they'd strike.

On one hand, it was possible to deny the fact that the cultists preferred to raid at night, for the element of surprise. But at the same time, that same tactic could be turned against them. If they were distracted by the bait, and the destruction of their blasphemous idols, then they would be far less prepared in the darkness.

And the night could work as a cloak for the Lions just as well as it had for the cult.

---

It was a moonless, cloudy night. Not a star could be glimpsed through the thick veil of clouds, though there did not appear to be a storm incoming.

To put it simply, it was an ideal night for an ambush.

The ambush point was not too far from the location of the cult's operations, near the disturbed earth and the greatest concentration of effigies, using the natural landscape as a barrier from which they could attack. The bait had been embedded with skilled warriors, but in truth it was only intended to gain the cult's attention. It was the destruction of their effigies that would lure them into taking direct action.

It was true. There was no way the cultists were unaware of their presence.

But that wouldn't matter in the face of fanaticism.

Velvetica had positioned herself with the ambush team.

Now it was simply a matter of time. They had their attention, certainly, so drawing them out was the next step.

@Raineh Daze@Rin@AzureKnight@Psyker Landshark@The Otter@VKAllen@Eisenhorn@Crimson Paladin@Conscripts@HereComesTheSnow@Octo@PigeonOfAstora

Lirrah's eyes widened as Kayliss began speaking. She seemed much more talkative now, and had relaxed her threatening glare. Well, things like that didn't much scare Lirrah in the first place. It was very big people that scared her, possibly because they reminded her of Hadriyu in some ancient corner of her mind. Even then, however, none of them were safe from her hunger for favorable business transactions.

Lirrah smiled from ear to ear as she looked up at the woman. So, that was an act. A face she put on to try and force Lirrah into the deal she wanted. Lirrah wondered, briefly, how many faces the woman had. Not that it mattered, of course. Business was business, but noting it now might be useful later.

"Oh, fantastic," Lirrah chirped happily, clasping her own hands together and resting them against her cheek in a cutesy, almost prayer-like invite for affection, "that sounds like a wonderful deal~ of course, we'll have to set an order minimum or it won't be worth it for either of us..."

Lirrah beckoned the woman to her tent to look at some of the herbs she did have in stock.

"...Put we can chat about that nasty money stuff later," Lirrah added in a half-pout, as if the librans involved somehow despoiled the simple joy of making a transaction (they didn't), "for now, let's get you what you need and head out~"

Lirrah's supply certainly contained herbs for cooking and for medicine, some of which might be used as poison reagents depending on the concentration and dose, and probably contained a few of the rarer subjects in small quantities that she had gotten hold of but hadn't sold yet. Desiccated, perhaps, but very usable. In addition, she also kept herbs of Nemish origin that weren't often seen in these lands. Things for folk remedies and home cooking (mostly for herself, as it hadn't quite caught on among the Veltans yet). Despite not being an apothecary, she had a somewhat favorable selection on hand.

"You know, sometimes it's hard to get all the herbs you need in one place. People ask questions when you need certain compinations... it's so confusing," Lirrah pondered aloud, innocent as the day she was born, "and the people who don't ask a lot of questions charge so much more! Well, not your good pal Lirrah! Eheehee, I don't know much about these plants, so I just tend to assume it's cooking~"

Lirrah winked and stuck her tongue out like a particularly dumb and charming orange cat.

"So whatever you want to order, I'll get it all, and at amazingly reasonable prices~"

The messaging, of course, was clear. No other merchants were needed. Lirrah could take the full list, and nary an inquiry would be made. As long as Kayliss understood this, Lirrah had no doubt that they would start a long and beneficial business relationship.

------------------

Lirrah felt almost like a real Lion, camped out with the others on the ambush team. The social clout and increased rapport from the mission would doubtless come in handy when dealing with the other soldiers, and maybe one or two would finally want to try some traditional Nemish cuisine. The Veltans had no idea how much time or money went into those dishes, so she could probably charge a lot once it got more popular. She'd blame a supply shortage for the price increase.

Lirrah smiled as she kept watch, knowing that it would be borderline impossible for the stupid necromancers to ever see her before she saw them. Nem had fantastic night vision, and Lirrah's was exceptional even among them. For a first job, keeping watch was a fantastic position for her to have.

...

Well, maybe she wouldn't overcharge for the Nemish food.

Even Lirrah had empathy. Love. The prospect of sharing food from her homeland and seeing the Veltans eat it happily was something she could take genuine joy in. Enough that it would be worth selling... at market price.

"Ila-nem," Lirrah muttered perversely, her sharp eyes scanning the distance, "I am so benevolent. Perhaps I should be a goddess~"

"Annoying the rich and privileged is an amusing past time if your bored, plus you can learn a lot from someone who's annoyed."

Urden found some amusement in the rebuttal and pouting remarks, though frankly, if someone got so foul tempered over a mistaken name, well, was it really that much of a consideration to even afford them? Still, the lamia's general depressive state over getting a name wrong spoke plenty of volume in and of itself about her temperament, at the very least spoke volumes about concern over not alienating herself from others, enough so that such a minor misstep could leave her in a poor mood indeed. But hell, who was he to judge, up until this job he had considered himself lucky to get any sort of recognition beyond merc or sellsword. Or, sellaxe in his case? Nah, didn't have the same ring to it, not really. He felt some pull to offer genuine advice instead of just poking fun and mockery alone, so after she also made the decision to go where she was ordered instead of simply picking for herself, he did offer one bit of earnest food for thought.

"Chin up though, anyone worth the time won't get so blindly irate over getting a name wrong. If they do, well, not exactly the kind of company worth keeping with skin that thin."

---

The worst part of a job like this was the waiting. Urden shared the sentiment with many soldiers, he knew that much, but whatever gods felt like listening was it tedious. Fighting was usually quick and brutal, celebrations too short and often too dry for his tastes, but all the waiting could drive someone mad. Wait for everyone to be in position, wait for the signal, wait for the enemy to strike, wait wait wait. Hurry up and bloody wait. He was with the group baiting the necromancer and goons into an ill advised, fanatical attack on the would be 'do gooders' trying to put down a vile practice without proper manpower and a blatant lack of self preservation. He was the hired muscle there to show a lack of coordination, near as he understood the plan. Granted, plans meant a whole lot when they didn't go off right, but he still got to put some, frankly, hideously designed effigies down hard enough to return to their base components. That was a win in his book if nothing else. Even better, an axe worked wonders for demolition in this case, and he shouldered it, taking comfort and confidence in its familiar weight and balance.

"Right, give the word and let's start smashing these ugly things to pieces."

@AzureKnight@VitaVitaAR

---

A band of raiders. Irian had seen them briefly despite his relatively shorter stay thus far in the Lions, but he hadn't interacted with them much at all yet, or having known about the leader much as well aside from random hearsay. Judging from looks alone, Istvan - the apparent leader - and the band, it looked like they fit that kind of strategy the large man was proposing: rough-looking. It looked normal that these individuals would like a pillage trip, and would run the moment they meet any real resistance. And it's free help, the elf couldn't ask for more.

"Aye, ten steps from around the treeline shall be your safezone." Irian responded, giving Istvan a two-fingered salute, before heading off to prepare himself for battle.

---

Upon his first duty in the Lions involved using a heavier, more armored but clunkier attire composed of half-metal, he was a little out of the element when it comes to more mobile tasks, but eventually he got used to the weight, and now, as he observed into the plain before him, his feet nicely tucked and positioned in harmonic balance on the tree, his bow and arrow at the ready. But his arms were relaxed, knowing that the battle likely had yet to begin, and it would be gradual. And while his work was still quite important, he needed not be on post for all eternity.

Especially when his stomach was still growling.

He ain't gonna lie, Irian had a secret distaste for Veltian cuisine. Especially and very unfortunately the elven cuisine that his people liked to serve were also quite shite. Bland and uninteresting. But where he is from, it tends to be quite cheap and sometimes free, so he couldn't really complain but to soldier on. But he would relish in anything that would entice his taste, and for here today would be the cuisine from the Nem merchant. Traditional and authentic apparently. It was good, and he wanted a bit more. Just a bit more.

Dropping down from the tree with a thud, Irian landed gracefully with both feet, dusted himself off and approached the Nem again. "Well, then your holiness Lirrah. May I have a second serving?" He said, having heard the Nem's proclaiming. His tone was casual but dry, quite a sign that he was being sarcastic, but who could knew for sure, knowing how serious he had been thus far.

@Octo

Fortunately, she'd gotten the herbs she needed and managed to brew them before the Lions set out to battle. And as much as it rankled to have to just stand there and listen to the merchant talk, Kayliss eventually acquiesed to the nem's demand to be her main supplier of herbs. Of course, the woman's demeanor didn't fool her for an instant. Evidently, she knew enough of herbalism to realize Kayliss was brewing poisons, but wouldn't bother to delve deeper so long as Kayliss continued to patronize her with her business. Fine enough. In the absence of the Crownsblades' network, a foreign merchant would do well enough, so long as Lirrah continued to throw her lot in with the Lions.

Kayliss had placed herself with the ambush team. As per Velvetica's orders, she was to break off and assassinate the necromancer once the initial attack succeeded. And so she crouched down beneath her cover, crossbow drawn and a bolt already loaded. Once the word was given, she would rise up from concealment, sight a target, and fire.

The hooded woman resisted the urge to sigh as she continued to brace for the start of the battle alongside the other ambushers. While she was used to this sort of wait as an assassin, that didn't make it any less tedious. Would that she was going in to the latter part of the skirmish with more information on the layout of where the necromancer had holed up, but there had been missions with more spotty intelligence in the past. She would make do.

@VitaVitaAR@Conscripts@AzureKnight

"Generous." he noted, smile unwavering as the elven ranger took a moment to size him and his up. They'd interacted little directly, this being their first true exchange of words (beyond passing pleasantries, when provided). Whatever he found was evidently unobjectionable, as his agreement came swift enough. All he would need to work with, Valmyra's answer notwithstanding. "I would have believed you to want more room to work. Ten it shall be."

With an assured nod, he left them to their preparations, and returned to his own.

Once decided, positions were swiftly filled by the assembled forces beneath the Lions' banner, Istvan dividing his raiders as previously discussed. The majority of his contingent had nestled themselves behind him in the brush within the northerly edge of the ambush team, instructed to follow his charge and otherwise given the go-ahead to cut loose upon any effigies and cultists they could pick off. Rough men and woman each, they had nonetheless been trained quite ruthlessly by the scion of the nascent Shilage— and thus kept their rowdiness at camp under tight lock and key, knowing full well the depths of reprisal he could loose upon them.

He let Meteor's chain begin to unravel off his forearm, and stood his vigil coolly, scanning the field ahead.

This was not to say some light murmuring and exchange hadn't escaped them, one brave soul even drawing up alongside him for a spell to glean his take on the stratagem he was working within, its ideas of deeper subterfuge and feinting— only to be waved away in short order with his classic rejoinder:

"We want to understand the enemy."

Taking their measure with this initial bait and switch would inform the larger scale to come— how to best tie the rope around their necks.

"No offense taken, Lady Valmyra," Roger assured the snake-woman. "It was an honest mistake, don't worry too much about it." The mercenary was right, a slip of a tongue wasn't worth getting upset over. Trained Griffins could become ornery if someone failed to address them by their correct name, but Roger suspected that was primarily due to the perceived offense of being ignored. Besides, like the mercenary said, anyone that would make a big fuss over an honest mistake probably wasn't worth associating with.

Speaking of the mercenary, Roger had a feeling that Urden was sizing him up. Probably trying to figure out if he was a snooty elitist or not. It was, after all, generally a pretty good approximation that any knight with a griffin mount came from a position of considerable social standing and wealth. There wasn't much Roger could do about this other than being on his best behavior and not give Urden a reason to resent him.

---

Shortclaw crouched down like a lion some distance from the other ambushers. The duo maintained some distance from the other ambushers for safety's sake, and in order to have plenty of room to flank. The trap had been set, now all that was left now was to wait for the necromancers to take the bait.

The night was dark enough that they could probably take to the air without being unseen. Griffins like Shortclaw had excellent night vision- a benefit of their feline side- and would have no trouble navigating the air even on a cloudy, moonless night like this. However, doing so would be an inefficient use of energy, and they couldn't be entirely sure that the necromancers' camp wouldn't notice them.

Once the battle began, it would be imperative that they not allow any of the enemy vanguard to slip back to the main camp. If any of them managed to bring back word of the trap, it'd give the necromancers more opportunity to dig in and prepare accordingly. With the lives of the hostages in the balance, it was all the more imperative that they not give the enemy any wiggle room.

Although there was almost no lighting, it wasn't impossible to see for the Hundi--starlight was light after all, and her vision was better than a human's in such a condition... even if it was no patch on the nem's. Of course, if anyone were to light their direction up even vaguely, the reflection from her eyes would be something of a giveaway that there was something alive in this area. Maybe not a person, but it would still be a warning sign.

So, she was standing around with her eyes closed, ears twitching occasionally and listening for the sounds of battle, thinking about what might be more appropriate. Fire? If it came time to destroy the undead, fire was always an option. She'd spent some time to apprise Valmyra of the option of simply... taking over the necromancers' work and cancelling it, circumstances permitting, but if that wasn't possible, it was probably best to just burn everything.

And that would solve the issue of most of them having some difficulty seeing, too.

The whistling sound was quite clearly intended to sound like a birdcall. And it wasn't, perhaps, unconvincing. There were all manner of nocturnal avians out in the wilderness. It was easy enough to believe that most people wouldn't pay it any notice.

Velvetica smirked.

She wasn't most people. Understanding potential signals by enemies was an inportant part of military command, and she knew quite well that there were no birds that emerged at night that made such a sound.

They'd telegraphed their attack without even knowing it.

"That whistle is our enemy, there's no doubt. Steady. Wait for my signal."

As the effigies fell, crushed and destroyed, the bait simultaneously rage-inducing and tantalizing for a cult, they began to emerge.

From rocky outcroppings, from dark spots, they came.

They were cloaked, many of them clad in leather but some showing steel beneath, hoods concealing everything but a skull-like mask carved from wood. that hid their facial features. There were quite a few of them, casting a wide net in a bid to surround those who had travelled into their territory and shown such disrespect to their blasphemous idols.

It wasn't a particularly impressive strategy, but Velvetica could see how it could be effective. These dark warriors with masks depicting a skeletal rictus, emerging from the shadows, seemingly from all directions. The average guard or merchant caravan would undeniably be terrified, as would the typical townsfolk from the region. Perhaps they would fear being surrounded by a pack of revenants or some other manner of undead.

Even if the illusion didn't last very long, the shocking first impression was enough to give their enemy the advantage.

At least, against their usual targets.

"Once our forward team strikes the first blow, I will give the order to strike," Velvetica said, calmly, "We will crush them swiftly and without mercy, in the name of the Goddesses and of Velt. Ready arms."

The blonde placed a hand on the hilt of her blade.

@Raineh Daze@Rin@AzureKnight@Psyker Landshark@The Otter@VKAllen@Eisenhorn@Crimson Paladin@Conscripts@HereComesTheSnow@Octo@PigeonOfAstora

As Lirrah watched and waited, she set out a few explosive flasks and got her sling ready. She had thought over and over about how to put her vision to use, and came up with the idea that she'd fling the flasks at farther away detachments that were more difficult for others to see. That way, she could light their positions up noticeably to point them out to the archers and mages. Of course, she'd do this once the cultists were concentrating on the bait team, when the ambush team was starting their assault.

Lirrah glanced up at Irian when he came up to her, and flashed him a friendly smile. Even for the merchant, it was difficult to tell if he was being sarcastic (Veltans and their biting sarcasm), but the truth remained: he had approached her. This was enough for Lirrah to guess at a degree of honesty behind his intentions.

"My, my, did I say that out loud~?" Lirrah pouted sweetly, "I was joking, of course~ but if you're hungry... hm... I only have the field rations I packed for myself. I would pe happy to share, though, Iri~"

Lirrah was already in her bag unpacking some flasks, so in a motion so immensely swift that it would have been uncharacteristically fearsome if she had been grabbing a knife, she set out a couple of parcels. A part of her wanted to ask Irian for money, but knew that the better practice was to build comradery. If she could have some of the Lions sample food from her homeland risk-free, and they liked it, she might actually be able to sell some. Samples make sales.

"I have some flatpreads filled with melon paste and... ah," Lirrah realized her mistake. She had packed some of her special jerky that was, while profoundly flavorful, also profoundly spicy. She'd scarcely met a Veltan that had even seen a spicy food before, and was leery regarding whether an average person from Velt wouldn't just die attempting to eat her meat.

"Actually, that meat isn't really... suited for a Veltan palate," she said diplomatically, "try the melon."

As if on cue, foreshadowing the danger of Lirrah's jerky, Velvetica announced the presence of enemies. Lirrah was soon able to to note every despicable presence, and grabbed for her sling.

"I'll light up the petter-hidden ones when we strike," Lirrah announced, strangely serious for once, "I don't think it'll pe accurate enough to do much damage at this range, put it will give us good vision."

Lirrah took this opportunity to give Irian a nod, and then turned to the Hundi, who she at least knew was a mage, but she had her eyes closed for some reason. Well, if the order was to strike fast and hard, a fiery explosion at their feet was probably a good way to begin.

"You'd think, important as they are, they'd be made better..."

Urden took an aimed swing at the base of one such effigy, hacking it down with well placed strikes, and smashing them to pieces with a mix of stomps and axe blows. He was pacing himself as he worked, not wanting to exhaust himself before the fighting even started, and a whistle raised the sixth sense in the back of his head. That was too well timed to be anything but the sound of an alert. Maybe if it hadn't been in immediate response to the desecration of the effigies it would have been more believable as a birdsong or whatever nature people might call it. Still, by the time he was done with the next effigy, the necromancer's lackies finally decided to reveal themselves, going to surround them. Normally that might be a problem, but in this case that just made it harder for them to react to the impending ambush. Hefting his axe, and eyeing the nearest of the skull masked warriors. Scare tactics, useful against anyone who wasn't professional enough to keep moral, armor looked like a mix of leather and metal depending, not enough metal to warrant opening with the spike of his axe.

"Right, time to earn my coin, come have a go if you think you have a chance. Each of your heads is worth the same to me."

Urden made his move on the nearest of the masked goons, meeting the opening strike with a sideways swipe, using the axehead to bat the sword thrust away, snapping the other end upwards to crack the masked warrior alongside the head, to stun and create an extra opening. A second fast strike with the axe blade rended leather armor and dug deep into the side of the enemy. Ripping the axe clear, he roared as he brought the axe around and down, splitting the head of the masked warrior, and the mask too, sending the now corpse crashing to the ground. One down, plenty to go, and the mercenary would turn to meet the next threat, ready to adapt to the situation at hand. Otherwise, right now it was a good old fashioned brawl, the kind that ended with a lot of bloody, messy kills. Even better, the more attention he gathered, the more off guard the goons would be when the time came to be ambushed.

_{@VitaVitaAR@Eisenhorn@HereComesTheSnow}

---

Heretic Grounds

---

Valmyra turned to another Lions' member who addressed her, this time it was the heavily armored man Istvan. Earlier he and Cadmon, the other member he was in service to, had outlined their plan to have the former lead a raid team as part of the bait squad to smash up the effigies and draw out their targets. Honestly, Valmyra didn't really understand all that much the odd and intricate tactics these human warriors implored. But, it'd best to learn it now, since she'd be working so many of them. The Lamia had ultimately decided to join the bait squad to add in drawing out the enemy, most serpents preferred to lie in wait and ambush but Val was always a more forthright and standoffish person. She was admittedly rather on edge, working with such a large group, but she'd just have to grit her fangs and bear it.

"I can't speak of how well we'll work together, but I will follow your lead." She responded to Istvan.

--

Sitting in the forest, the sun now set, Valmyra indeed felt right at home amongst the sea of tress. She watched as Urden wasted no time in smashing the effigies with his axe, the sounds of metal chopping away at wood. As opposed to using her lance to do the job, Val thought it easier to simply smack the figures with her large tail. Letting loose a powerful whip, Val had smacked one completely out of the ground with such force it shattered as it slammed against a nearby tree. She began to see moving figures appear from the bushes and branches as she wiped bits of wood and grain from her tail. It seemed the commotion they caused finally garnered some attention. Underlings of the necromancer descended upon them; they made sneers and muffled sounds under the masks they wore, flailing their crude weapons as they began their attack.

"Filthy rodents." She spat.

The lamia grabbed the nearest attacker using her impressive coils, nearly squeezing the life out of them before skewering them with her lance. She then threw the body at another pair attempting to flank her. Before they could get up, Val already slithered toward them with surprising speed, stabbing one in the chest and slamming her tail down on the other's spine. She felt a satisfying crack as she landed her blow, that let her know that he's days of desecration were over. She looked over at Urden who seemed to be doing just fine against masked assailants, making loud war cries as he swung his axe wildly. Hopefully, the better they performed here the better position the other team would be in.

"Lirrah, aim for the rear of their formation."

While it was dark enough to make it rather difficult to discern just where that was, such issues would be no problem for the nem's explosive mark.

"Archers, follow her lead. Avoid targeting any cultists who are already engaged and focus on those who have yet to enter battle."

Naturally, this would reduce the chances of friendly fire while also cutting down the freshest members of the cult, those who had yet to join the attack.

"On my mark..."

The sound of metal and leather scraping together rang out as Velvetica drew Starshine, its elegant blade gleaming briefly in spite of the lack of moonlight.

"Loose!"

As soon as the initial mark had been let loose, and the volley followed it, Velvetica raised her sword skywards and swung it down.

"Attack!"

With that, the counter-ambush began, Velvetica lead the charge, streaming from around the outcropping she had chosen as their main gathering point. Her charge would trigger the Lions at the other ambush point.

Surround them. Crush them.

Then move onto the camp.

As far as she could tell, no true undead were among their attacking forces. Just as she thought. That meant their opponents would be likely human, and therefore vulnerable to all manner of attack and did not require decapitation or other measures to ensure they were destroyed.

The masked figures were so focused on their religious fury that they had not accounted for a counter-ambush. Startled, the bulk of the visible drew their weapons, distracted from their initial assault of the forward team completely.

It was time to bring the hammer down.

@Raineh Daze@Rin@AzureKnight@Psyker Landshark@The Otter@VKAllen@Eisenhorn@Crimson Paladin@Conscripts@HereComesTheSnow@Octo@PigeonOfAstora

No undead, then? With the mark set, that clarified her role exactly. Ensconced safely behind the rest of the forces, the mage looked at the fight ahead through half-lidded eyes, a susurrus of old Talderian rolling off her tongue. Even the air around her slightly warmed; silver flickering at the edge of vision.

Don't rush in too far. Let the enemy stay grouped up and defensive if possible. A complete reverse of the proper actions, when focusing purely on the infantry battle, but if you knew you had magical superiority... well, it might mean holding out longer, and being a bit less aggressive in the killing, but the results tended to be worth it.