"Its huge." -Ein Nimgrud, Page 1.

First Blow

---

The Gargoyle's attention had become trained on Alexander Lyre and Wren Vesper while Maher had been dragged away. It grinned viciously as it made for a diving attack at Wren, who was readied for it, and managed to roll out of the way before the attack could land. "You'll never escape!" It taunted her, having no effect it seemed to be irritated before seeing Maher's attack race for it once again. The attack hits and prevents the Gargoyle from taking flight again to avoid any further attacks for a few moments, and as before, it flinches, stunned in place. Alexander's bullet, thus, easily finds its mark and hits the Gargoyle in the side of the head instead of the eyes, still, the shadowy mark was left behind, as was the pierced stone of the jaw line to reveal not flesh and blood, but a small series of gears which moved as the Gargoyle's mouth moved to mimic speech. "Puny fleshsack, you do not understand... That you cannot kill that which does not live."

In a sudden burst of speed it leaps for Alexander Lyre, hitting him with sufficient force to send him flailing off the hill side. His death was inevitable, until, a few moments later, he ceases moving in mid-air, being caught in a small, golden bubble, and gently lowered to the ground. Some distance in the fog behind Alexander he could see a figure approaching, feminine in appearance, with golden blonde hair and blue eyes that pierced through the fog. It was the help Maher referred to; it was almost there. The Gargoyle's stone lips quiver into a sneer. "Such heavenly things do not belong in a world of rended flesh and ticking clocks." It mocks, as it moves itself into the air once more. Now, the sound of clockwork and gears became quite audible. Wren snaps her fingers and shouts to the rest of the party. "When it attacks, it needs a few moments of time before it can muster the strength to ascend its humongous form again! When it dives again, those with swords should move in to try and harass it and keep it pinned down!" Her experience it seems was going to come in handy after all. With that said, she immediately beelines for Maher, knowing he could take it out of the air if he hit another one of those attacks.

As for the undead gecko, it clinged to Alexander's shoulder and hissed at the surrounding holy magic barrier that saved his life. It either did not like magic, or did not like holy things. Its empty eye sockets once again stared at him, as though chiding him for not moving when the Gargoyle had landed closer to him before shooting at it, or something. Still, perhaps a well timed attack could keep the Gargoyle down...

First Blow
Maher Adonai

Maher smiled slightly as he realised how his spell had effected the gargoyle. The creator had been clever, the hard stone outer shell was reinforced with magic to keep it resistant, the reason his plain water burst had done nothing to it. by the same token however only anti-magic would do nothing but weaken the reinforcements momentarily. both attack and disruption needed to be combined to be effective. If he could rely on his comrades to do the damage he could focus on just saturating the construct with anti-magic, except he wasn't sure how effective that would be since when it was combined with water the effect was more focused with the attack hitting the same location. Alexanders bullet had damaged the shell after his last strike though so his comrades contributing damage as he weakened it was entirely possible with the same combination spell.

He shook his head to focus his thoughts for a moment, the pain of his ribs was starting to let his mind drift. The previous attack had proven effective, now was not the time to play with the formula when the result was uncertain. Maybe he could commission someone back in Renalta to create a similarly reinforced stone shell for him to experiment against... He shook his head again to stop his thoughts drifting. Focus, focus, focus... he chanted to himself in his mind as he started to repeat his earlier successful spell again. He smiled again as he cast the anti-magic infused water burst, the familiar presence was getting closer, he hadn't seen her yet because he was focusing on the gargoyle but he was certain of who it was now and he offered up a silent prayer to Merlin in thanks.

First Blow - D.H.

D.H. Watched as the Gargoyle moved, letting his power reach it's limit as he focused solely on his mark; the small crack in it's shell. He noticed the wound, and that he could make little use of it. He would need to use the crack if he intended to finish this. With a slow exhale of breath, his vision narrowed, time seeming to slow as his mind and body became attuned to his purpose. He took careful aim as the creature began to lift off, inhaling a deep breath, steadying his aim, anticipating the large creatures flight path as it gained in height. Then, he let loose both bolts, one disappearing almost immediately, using it's connection through the shadows engulfing it to shadow jump to the opposite side of the gargoyle, mirroring the other bolt's flight path exactly. As the bolt that flew a straight path from it's crossbow got closer, a tiny tendril of shadow energy shot out, trying to slither into the small crack, moving quickly to do so, followed by four larger tendrils, that attempted to wrap the gargoyle, trying to smother it's wings and arms...and strangely seemed unaffected by the magical shell, due to their physical form. This became accompanied by a surge of air as D.H. used the built up energy to create a vacuum for a split second, speeding up the bolts, as no air resistance was present, and to stall the gargoyles climb, before the air rushed back in with explosive force, pushing the bolts and slamming into the gargoyle. Were the bolts to make contact, they would cause an explosion from the unstable shadow energy, fueled by the compression of air around them, from the surge. Though, due to his immense focus, D.H. lost all sense towards anything but his target, and even then, the stress from using even the basic spells he used, in such symbiosis wore him out, and completely drained him of magical energy, though leaving him physically intact. As the attack finished, D.H. slowly began to gain his senses back, shaking his head as to clear it, then stepping back and then away as he suddenly became aware of a holy presence, eyes widening as he draws away, looking from the Gargoyle, and then to the place the aura was coming from. Being a Demon, he had little care for Holy beings, and their presence was like fire.

“Rally men! Apprehend this traitor to the holy cause and protect your leader with your lives. This is a test of faith. Do not forget that you are the warriors of the Holy Order.” -Lothar, Page 6.

The Hunt for Diana

---

The man in orange didn't really have anything to add to the discussion at hand, though Stotgar certainly did as he looked at Nadira and Matthew. "Oh, well... I suppose... That would be the smart thing t' do. 'Fer a couple o' not Dwarves." He almost looked disappointed at the fact that they weren't going to set off the obvious trap as Matilda, his crossbow, shuddered. Nadira would feel it in slight turmoil, reacting to Stotgar's disappointment. Matthew on the other hand searched through the caverns. Down the path choked with dragonkin he felt what was exactly described: Monstrous beasts, violence, and a deep hungering. Down the middle path he felt the presence of a powerful wicca, a woman with magic akin to that of a warlock, though he sensed no ill intent. Down the cold path, he felt nothing for a moment, utterly and absolutely nothing... Then he felt... Himself. The only thing he could discern was that the right path reflected his own telepathic powers back at him, but they weren't all in the same time frame: Some were older, some were younger.

A few moments pass as Stotgar awkwardly shuffles his boot on the floor. Before he can say anything more about violence, the man in orange would flinch, and Matthew would hear a voice in his mind. "Ah... You were the one... To reach out." The voice was feminine, likely the witch. "Come, be not afraid, I am no threat to you. My name is Kiune, I am a friend of the one which you seek, and I have your test to see if you may see her." Her voice was soft and welcoming, and yet, while Nadira could not hear it, she could sense magic afoot within the pleasant, rosy scent now. It was meant to soothe and dull the senses, likely to capture people, or at least make them less aware of their environment.

Meanwhile, Stotgar continued to stand there, completely unaware of what was going on. "... Erm... You tall folks seein' something I'm not? Matilda's wonderin' if ye' all be havin' an episode o' mania now?... We gonna go somewhere? Point at a tunnel and I will go, you know, I am not scared!" The man in orange whispers to both Matthew and Nadira with his telepathy. "I can confirm that Diana has a friend who is a witch who helps protect her. I cannot confirm if this Kiune is indeed this person, though... Your call. Pick a tunnel and go, I will follow."

Carnival of Chaos



As Cristoff headed for the burning section of the town he couldn't help but notice when he'd crossed the metaphorical line, houses flattened and burning, bodies every which way dead or beyond help. Cristoff noticed a childs body and going to check it discovered, much to the regret of his stomach, that the head was a dozen feet over by the collapsed remains of a well that had provided water for that part of town. Those few who had survived were weeping and nursing the blackest wounds. Wounds which would fester and decay unless they could get the aid of a healer or physician with the proper herbs. Finally he would make his way to the blackened crater where the 'shooting gallery' was.

Across the street in the ruined wall of a home Cristoff would discover his brothers blackened body, charred and missing limbs, but enough remained to identify him.

Aneura emerges from the Warehouse with little issue in time to see the smoke in the sky and the flares fired by Cristoff into the air. The air of wrongness gone. The illusions banished. Shortly after Aneura emerges General Hanus approaches from his own quarter and offers Aneura a shoulder to lean on. "This is not good. Not good at all."

---

Sarah's Request

Eins fought to hold back the spiders with all her skill her blade severing two legs of the smaller spider closest to her (17+7.5 vs DC 10) it hissing hate at her. One of the larger spiders charged her and attempted its own strike against her (3, modifier not calculated) failing to get its legs to grip her as they all moved on the door. The Wights of the Drow Naream however moved forwards trying to get their own hits in (4 and 10 respectively) The second only just managing to strike a spider moving into the limited space but (11) it blocked the blow.

Kasim (20 *Nat Crit, no modifiers calced*) fired his arrow at the first spider to show its ugly head and the shaft pierced the creatures forehead and it dropped to the ground flopping onto its back while its legs closed towards one another into a metaphorical cage. Another of the spiders, now able to see over it's deceased brethren spotted the two Drow. "Forget the white meats!" It screeched! "Drow animals are here! SLAY THE DARK MEATS! Pound the Slavers into ichor! Slay the Priestess of the Whore-goddess!" It seemed that not only were the Spiders intelligent, but exceptionally perceptive.

Naream, at the limits of his power after summoning the Golem could only look down (14) and saw another four Giant Spiders climbing their way up from somewhere below as silently as they could. And as Naream saw them the gazes of all four turned to Naream himself. "Drow-meat!" One screeched and their climb redoubled in speed.

Sarah's Request

Naream looked down and just as things couldn't get any worse they evidently did. "Well that is just lovely really... Spiders who hate drow? This just can't get any better... unless a Draegloth suddenly barges in and wants to fuck us all up the arse." He muttered and groaned. He weakly but as quick as he could pulled away from the edge and started to crawl over the bridge in the direction of the other chamber, yes there were spiders there, but also his big golem which he shouted to to turn around and protect him. The lumbering hulk of flesh, bones and arcane energies turned around and obeyed moving towards the prone form of his master. Still crawling he shouted out to the Lollth bitch and the human ranger. "Hey priestess, some avatars of your bitch goddess want to eat you, ranger, I suggest shooting off spiders climbing their way up. I would love to help but... feeling a bit... dizzy over here... oh for the love of the nine hells... Why can't these spiders be lovers of white meat." He muttered as his vision started to get dark and blurry.

Still crawling over the bridge he hears the footsteps of his golem approaching and then a large shadow enveloping him. "You better be my golem..." He says softly before looking up his hand reaching to a dagger in case it wasn't his golem after all....

Amazon Imperiia

"Oh" said Ethyssa picking up on Mira's que and tongue rolling. "Well done Traxilus. We need more men like you," Ethyssa continued as she drew back and put some ground between herself and the men. Between Kraith's earlier comment, Traxilus and the guard, Richelieu and the Princess, as well as Mira, Ethyssa felt everyone was a few looks away from an orgy. Calling the Amazon's carnal was an understatement, but Ethyssa imagined the men of the group had no qualms with the culture.

Then the Amazon princess joined their group and informed them of the Queen's predicament, and Ethyssa noted the princess' derogatory remark to Elyssa: feeble-blood. Ethyssa was uncertain if the insult was directed towards Elyssa for being a commoner or being a shaman, but Ethyssa assumed the later which made the comment somewhat humorous in her mind. A drink from the river separated the princess from the shamans.

I could hand someone a goblet and make them an Amazon, Ethyssa thought to herself but dare not say in front of the Amazon's themselves. Hardly seems like a distinction worth holding over someones head.

Ethyssa leaned her head to Traxilus and rubbed her cheekbone with a hand as she contemplated, "Should the Queen come with us? We don't know what we're walking in to, and if the queen comes with us into the jungle she's going to be that much further from the ship," and by extension that much further from the teleportation circle home.

"Besides," Ethyssa continued in a hush, but returned to a normal tone as she went on, "Wouldn't it look curious to your mother for the people here on grounds for negotiations to suddenly leave?"

The Princess nods. "Yes, she should. It would be best to keep her away from the demon who looks like my mother... And assuming Richelieu can pull off a simple message... We'll have an... Excuse..." She says as she licks her lips at whatever thoughts went through her mind in that moment. Both Mira and Elyssa shuddered at the thought in unison. Both for entirely different reasons.

Traxilus began to blush as more amd more people seemed to pick up on the cue of them having left the tent. "Yes, yes we're all very funny. Now last I checked we had business to attend to." With that said the Princess approached, her gait completely shifted from before, it was almost like seeing an entirely different woman. As she spoke he found that even her tone of voice had changed, gone was the smooth as velvet speech to something altogether more civil amd ordered. He stood somewhat puzzled as to which was the act and which was her true self.

Appearing as two different people no doubt helped draw suspicion away from her in some cases, but it was troubling to think that perhaps they were being led on. He pushed the thought from his mind in favor of focusing on what the Princess was saying. A Queen 's soul? Seemed plausible. While how neatly it seemed to serve the Princess' purposes didn't escape Traxilus, if she was telling the truth then it wouldn't surprise Traxilus to find mischief afoot where Florence was present. If any signs pointed to wrong doing on the Imperium's side he would be sure to blame Florence and rip his tongue out through the man's ass in retaliation for putting this alliance in jeopardy.

Ethyssa spoke again raising concern for their Queen, Traxilus nodded seeing her reason, but knowing in his gut that it simply wasn't the case for Alex. "If half of what I've heard is true, our Queen would lead the charge herself regardless of the danger. We won't let her lead, but we won't be able to stop her from coming. Best accept it." He ended with a shrug of acceptance at their situation concerning the Queen. "Besides, if we pull Garren, that's your oaf by the way your highness, and The Count along with us the Queen is better protected with all of us."

He turned again to face the princess, a stern look on his face trying to pick up on anything the woman would surrender. His hand resting on his belt he chewed the bottom of his lip, a nervous habit he'd deceloped "No what I'm more interested in is why we should trust you. There are rumors being formed on both sides of the mill your highness, frankly I don't trust you further than I think Kraith here could throw you." He was mildly aware of how rudely he was speaking to someone of highborn status, and while he did notice the loyalty that some Amazonians (including his previous partner) had for her, he doubted any kind of scene would erupt over that here. Instead he kept his stare fixed on the noble to see how she reacted.

Sarah's Request

Eins Nimgrud

---

Her sword bit through chitin, through the flesh underneath, severing a couple of legs from an unlucky spider. While the sound her sword made when it cut the legs were very satisfying, it didn't kill the spider, which was now understandably seemed more than a little bit livid. "Tch, agile little buggers!" As if to prove her point, a larger spider charged at her, its front legs up trying to hit her. It wasn't much trouble to dodge however, for she had seen it coming before.

The dead things fighting beside her was at least some assurance that the drows are helping, and the dead spider with the arrow through its head proved that the ranger was more reliable than he seemed initially.

"Forget the white meats! Drow animals are here! SLAY THE DARK MEATS! Pound the Slavers into ichor! Slay the Priestess of the Whore-goddess!" One of the spiders screeched suddenly.

So they hated drows as well? A smile appeared on her face at once. How appropriate for the spider humping drows to be hated by spiders. How.... she forgot the word, but there was definitely something for that sort of situation. But...

"Don't ignore me, you eight legged twats!!" Now with stable footing, and her mind focused, she swung her sword in a wide powerful arc, aiming at where the spiders grouped together. Those three people in the back would presumably have no real close combat experience considering none of them was charging in gleefully cutting spiders apart. Thus keeping most of the spiders away from them would be essential for their (and her) survival. Even if she wanted those two drows dead, those two were another pair of hands for combat.

She was stunned, shocked at what she was hearing, so these spiders could talk which under any other circumstances would be seen as a great blessing and their great worth, but then they shouted upon seeing the two Drow to slay them, to slay her... especially her it seems when they seemed to recognize her for a priestess of Lollth. She hissed through her teeth in quiet rage as the realization dawned on her that these spiders meant to kill and devour her. If she was found wanting by her goddess and had to walk into the spider pitts back home to be executed and atone for her sins that way she would do so gladly, but since these spiders seemed to hate her kind and wanted to slay her and that heretical male outright she just felt rage.

These were not avatars or aspects of her goddess's favour, these were spiders warped and twisted by some enemy of the Drow. Most likely that Ilithid she suspected dwelled within these this tomb. What was interesting though was one part of their exclamation upon seeing herself and the necromancer, 'Pound the Slavers into ichor.' Were these spiders or who or whatever they served enslaved by her kind once? Something to consider while she brandished her dagger with a growl.

She almost had been ignoring the pitiful appearance of the necromancer but then some of his words reached her, more of those spiders were climbing up!? She walked to the edge of the bridge, looking down and widened her eyes as she saw the rapidly ascending spiders, who were a bit too eager it seems to rend the flesh from her bones. Snarling she stashed the dagger quickly away and raised her hands, murmuring a prayer to her goddess and as she felt the magic of her goddess course through her, molding it into the spell and magic she wanted it to be she hissed in pain as she felt her hands burn with pain from the heat, looking down and focusing her sight on the spiders as looking at the magic she was summoning was too painful for her, with her eyes adjusted to the darkness of the world below the surface.

"Let's see if you like this..." She hissed and then flung her arms and hands down, as if throwing a object against the side of the pillar, the magic orb of light quickly descending towards the spiders with the intent to blind and confuse them, perhaps even burn them if they had a very averse reaction to the light.

Sarah's Request - Kasim

---

The satisfying crunch of the arrow finding its target filled Kasim's mind for a moment. He knew it was just a creation of his own thoughts, for he couldn't actually hear the sound over the chittering and fighting and whatnot, but it felt good nonetheless. One deadly beast down, only... He tried to take a quick count, but the damned things kept moving around. Lots to go, in any case, and he'd try to take out as many as humanly possible. Kasim pulled another arrow from his quiver and set it to his bowstring, trying to pick out a new target over near Eins when he heard Naream's voice from down on the ground. He wasn't sure how the man had gotten there, as there were no enemies immediately at hand, but the message was rather alarming and required immediate attention.

Andrea made for the edge of the pillar and Kasim was only a couple steps behind her. He found it rather amusing that the woman he'd taken to calling 'the spider lady' in his own mind was having to actually fight spiders, but the time for rumination would be later, not when they were still fighting for their lives. Kasim took a moment to get steady footing near the edge of the pillar, a few feet away from where Andrea was throwing some kind of light down at the spiders, and leaned over just enough to be able to fire straight down at the creatures. It was not at all an optimal firing position, so he didn't bother trying to put the full force of his strength into the shots. He instead fired his readied arrow at the nearest spider after taking a moment to aim. Kasim then quickly pulled out a new arrow, took a brief moment to aim, and fired that at another of the creatures. He could only hope that even if they weren't strong enough shots to kill the spider outright, perhaps they might at least knock the damned things down.

Here Cometh the Wolves

“Raid them! Slaughter them all!”

“STRING THAT BITCH UP!”

“Burn that fat sow!”

“Do it... just do it you sniveling coward”

“Shut up! Just Shut up! There's no reason to cry.”

“Please, please don't cry..

“No! NO! NNNOOOOO-

For the first time since Saul arrived in this strange land. He flinched slightly, and not at the sight of a sword or a swing or some magical horror. No. It was merely the words of a crazed Shaman. He sends a glare down at the Shaman and makes sure to move away from him. He didn't need to hear this. He didn't need to hear the ramblings of some lunatic. Not that he cared! It was irrelevant anyway and everyone here seemed to acknowledge that the crazed little lizard was there for poor amusement more than anything else. Right? Nothing that he said mattered right? It was all wacko talk. A bunch of crazies trying to break him. Well they couldn't if he wrapped his hands around that scaly little neck and pulled its trachea-

“Indeed Clansmaster” Saul replies charismatically with a welcoming grin on his face.

“I've been sent to investigate this nightkiller that has been giving the City a bit of trouble. Seems everyone is pinning the suspect to be either a lycan or Lizardfolk, on account of the killing methods seemingly being very... brutal. A lot of tearing and ripping to indicate claws or teeth.”

Saul gestures to S'biss, specifically his claw-like nails and shrugs. Right now the one thing Saul could use more than anything else was a place to sit... and maybe a drink. Saul thought it a bit morbose that a blood stained clans temple would be the closest thing to a social gathering he would experience. But Dammit he would take what he could get. And to be perfectly honest, this was much better than those military ceremonies he had to subject himself to in Rheinfeld.

“The paranoid idiots around these parts are naturally suspecting that it's either a “savage wolf” or a “barbarian lizard” going around killing these government officials. Of course, that's probably unlikely. My comrades have inspected a body and the wounds are too meticulous for the claws of a Lycan or Lizardfolk. But nonetheless, on the surface it doesn't look like a pretty case for your kind. Someone wants to make you folk out to be serial killers trying to destabilize the government.”

Saul's face turns grim as he stares down at S'biss.

“I think both of us know just how bad things will get if race wars break out. So it's something I'm trying to squash before the situation gets out of hand. Which leads me to why I came here in the first place.”

He looked to his side to take a look at Rexel, whose hand was already instinctively reaching for his weapon. Understandable nervous, but also stupid. True, they weren't exactly in friendly territory. But that alone was why they needed to not be idiots. He snarls at Rexel and glares at his weapon hand, a sign to take his hand away from the sword pommel. The guards didn't seem to mind, but Saul wasn't taking any chances.

“The latest victim went by the name of Erlfried, apparently he was a port official of some sort. I was hoping that you could tell me anything about him. Like who would benefit from wanting him dead?”

S'biss crosses his arms, tail flicking before he nods, "Troubling indeed..." S'biss looks around for a moment before booming out, "Let any of those who have killed smoothskins of late step forward now." None step forward, but a shadow passes over the room as one attempts to sneak out of the room. A low rumble emanates through the room as S'biss addresses them, "Krissviss. Step forward and speak."

The lizardwarrior stops in his tracks and turns about, obviously frightened before he moves to the center of the battle circle, going onto one knee. Shaking, his eyes are downcast as he hisses, "Do not know the Erlfried, Clansssmassster.... But... It no me. No no, only the little ssssmoothssskinsss. They crunchy, tasty..." He shuffles uncomfortably, peeking up as his tongue flickers over his jowls uneasily.

However, Rexel, at the confession, appears to have had enough. With a roar of anger, he draws his sword and rushes forth to attack the clansman on his feet. It was apparent that none were moving to help either the captain or the warrior. The warrior, though, was too quick, rolling aside and out of the way of the blade with an angry snarl.

Before Saul could react, Rexel had charged at one of the lizardfolk and had drawn his sword. That idiot! Did he not see where he was right now? Did he not see the damn blood on the floor? His first instinct was to reach for his own sword and chop the captain's arm clean off. But he realized that wouldn't get him anywhere good. So instead he ran behind Rexel and moved his large powerful arms around Rexel's body before eventually tightening his grip and hopefully putting him in a full Nelson before the Captain could go on a second swing..

“You Fool!” Saul hissed into Rexel's ear. “Do you want to die?!”
Rexel slips out of the hold and slams his armoured elbow back and into Saul's face, bashing his nose and sending it bleeding. "HE KILLED THEM!" he snarled, moving out of the way as the tribe warrior lunges at Rexel, snapping and lashing out with claws angrily. Still no one appeared to move as the conflict brew. Even the clansmaster watches on, eyes flickering with amusement.

“You Moron! He isn't the killer, he just ate some dumb gnome-

He feels the armor slam into his face and he stumbles back. Letting go of his hold on the Captain and feeling the blood start to run down his face and into his thick beard. Was it broken? Who knows and Saul didn't care at that moment, his temper flared and his eyes were set to kill. Which is why he didn't reach for his sword. Because he would try to cleave the man in half at that point. So instead he clasped his hands together to form a club of sorts and waited for a pause in the Lizardman's lunges and swipes. He didn't want to get caught in between that thing's claws. He began to run at Rexel in an attempt to ram him into the ground with the added bonus of his clasped hands clubbing the man square in the face. That would probably knock the Captain to his sense, if not out cold. He didn't say anything, nor make a rage induced roar. It was all in his eyes, set to kill, maim, murder, plunder, steal and thrive in violence.

The Lizardman lunges in once more to strike, but Rexel was apparently far more skilled. He simply side-steps and allows the momentum of the warrior to carry him onto the captain's blade and impale himself. The lizardman shudders and falls to the ground, reaching numbly to his greivous wounds. The captain, caught up in his victory, spits and begins to wipe his blade. And it was at that moment that Saul's massive blow connects and knocks the captain out cold. The shaman Adissis squirms and edges closer to the ring, eyes wide on the dead man and curious of the state of the captain. S'biss, however, lets out a low grinding chortle as he claps his hands, "A good show... Saul, was it?"

Saul takes in a deep sigh as he begins to compose himself. One dead lizard and a knocked out military commander. This was the definition of a diplomatic nightmare. He wondered how badly he would get chewed out by some weak little politician. Then as he began to reset his crooked nose with a resounding cracking, he realized he didn't really give a damn. Nobody hit him without expecting retaliation. End of discussion.

Rolling his eyes, he hoists the unconscious Captain onto one of his shoulders easily enough, even with the armor on, Saul was capable. Besides, even though Rexel was a damn fool, he wouldn't leave him here. He looks at S'biss square in the eyes, wet blood masking the lower portion of his face and making his beard sticky and unpleasant. He didn't like people knowing his name, it brought up crappy memories and a certain stigma he would always want to avoid. But the next part would be totally humiliating for Saul and he gritted his teeth at the thought of it: he lowered his head in submission and forgiveness. His feelings inside were boiling and it was plain on his face he hated it. Even so, his words were sincere.

“Indeed. That is my name. My sincerest apologies for my guide's idiocy. I can try to compensate for your kins death.”

Then he suddenly cocked his head backed up and looked at S'biss, his eyes back to their usual determination and fierceness.

“But I still need any information on this nightkiller, and his latest victim, Erlfried.”

Saul sighed quietly to himself. smooth transition

Cease Fire

---

It was certain, everything was in chaos. The bodies of the dead and injured lay strewn haphazardly about the small church, be they crushed beneath rubble or sprawled out in the consecrated battlegrounds. The injured were numerous and some barely cling to consciously as they try to stop the bleeding or assist each other out of the way of swinging blades and crashing shields. For the most part, it was if Greed's call was unanswered by all but those opposing the cause of Rheinfeld's people.

In the midst of the battling, where Lothar stood, Davian, Alida and Taigyn all attempted to trade blows. Alida's weapon in blocked by Davian, albeit barely as he struggles to stay on his feet. He curses them with every breath and boundless fury reflects in his eyes. Even against odds becoming increasingly stacked against him, his pride and regal air does not falter as he fights like a lion. He attempts to punish Alida for her foolish attempt, only for Taigyn to rush in and return a crushing blow in return. The betrayer gasps out in pain. Sword and shield fall limply from his hands and fall to the floor with a clatter even in the din of fighting before he crumples to the floor, helmet dented in. Taigyn pants overtop of him, tears streaming as he sizes up the fallen man. ”He's still alive, but he's incapacitated. Clear the rest of the scourge and betrayers.” he commands before grabbing Alida and attempting to lead her away to see to her wounds. She struggles against him, but she was barely keeping on her feet herself. And with a growled comment from the still Leader of the Templar, she gives one last defiant look before nodding. She knew she was out of the fight.

The final mercenary of the Papacy's attack would have known it was hopeless, had he not been so consumed by Greed's influence. With a vicious cry, he swings his greatsword in a mighty sweep and cleaves clear through another of the Republic, their leather armour ineffective against such might. Still swept up in his relentless assault, he runs through one of the rogue templar. The templar simply looks at him, wide-eyed and shocked as he slumps upon the blade, dragging it down as blood gurgles from his lips in his death gasp. The final rogue looks at the attack with wide-eyes after watching the leader of her movement fall unconscious. She attempts to escape, only to be barred by one of her brethren she had betrayed. She stammers out, “No! No! It was not me! It was Greed! Spare me. Let me go!” They do not buy it though. Engaging her in combat, he snarls, “You are of the same scum as Davian. You will suffer the same fate, the only fate there has ever been to the betrayers of the Order. Die with honor, as you have not lived your life with it!” The remaining rogue raises arms to fight for her life.

Darkness flutters across the church for the briefest of moments and air gusts about, stirring dust into small motes. A mournful horn sounds as light suddenly erupts from the arriving angel. Folding his wings, he begins to skate down the rubble walls as he cries out, “Hark foul apparition and know thy end! Ye who belong naught of this realm! I call thee by thy truest of names! Greed! By the command of the one, and true King of Immortals! The might of Heaven and salvation of all! In the name of the original Angel, Lucipher, the first born of Fate and Destiny, I banish thee!”

The apparition of Greed releases a shriek of sheer anger, kicking and thrashing its limbs within the golden embers etching the circle of its summonings. He goes on like this, throwing curses in every language imaginable and promising vengeance upon the angel by name. And that name was Lyriel the Repentant. And with each cry, and each spoken rite of purification from the angel, the apparition continues to fade. His form of smoke begins to dissipate. And while it was certain Lyriel was succeeding, the struggle was not yet over.

First Blow - - Thailen Vicarris

---

As the mage began preparing another spell, Thailen moved away and drew her sword once more. Clearly he wasn't as incapacitated as she had originally thought. It was time to focus her attentions on the gargoyle once more, now with frustration tightening her eyes as well as her grasp. She was tired of dodging and waiting. The missing piece of stone by it's jaw drew her gaze; the creature wasn't impenetrable after all. Her feet began to move forward of their own accord, her mind not focusing on the journey, only the target.

She noticed Alexandre fall back, in a way. It was detached, it wasn't a primary detail. In much the same way she saw the arriving light through the fog, but did not think on it. It was distant, it was not now. Red began to taint the fog, and the edges of her vision became blurred as her steps increased to a run. Her sword was raised and pointed at the gargoyle, whose stony voice went unheeded and unheard. Dead grass and dust shattered underfoot as the last lengths between Thailen and the gargoyle were closed, and at the end, she jumped, sword stabbing forwards towards the creature's mouth or jaw with grim purpose.

First Blow

---

Erasmus swore as the situation facing them went from bad to worse, the gargoyle was proving an increasingly difficult foe to face and their numbers were beginning to drop like flies. He had the inescapable sense of something massive and powerful arriving; the cold grip of fear wrapped around his heart. Whilst he wasn’t a cowardly man, facing two powerful opponents at once would prove an insurmountable challenge. He nervously flicked his fingers on the pommel of his sword as he tried to read the situation and decipher the situation but no clear plan besides attack came to his mind. They faced a flying enemy that had very few weaknesses and their best mage had been knocked out of the fight. He couldn’t make it to Alexander in time in order to protect him from the gargoyle but he saw that a small crack had appeared in the outer shell of the creature; now was the time to get close to it.

Wren began shouting order for those with swords to take it on once it fell on someone, so he took it upon himself to shoulder that burden and readied himself to attack it should it land. He saw a blur from the corner of his eye as what he later distinguished to be Thalien throwing herself at the creature, obviously aiming for the cracked shell with her sword. In a split decision, Erasmus did what his instincts told himself to do; maybe if the two of them attacked at the same time they could come out alive on the other side. His uttered his prayers, hefted his sword and shield and threw himself at the creature alongside Thalien.

The Hunt for Diana

---

They had a name, now. Kiune, whoever that was. Her path was still clearly a trap. It was, however, now their best bet, in Mathew’s mind. The broken reflections of himself he found down the unknown path scared him - it spoke of even more dangerous, subtle magic, or of things even worse. Besides, there were six of them, and this one sorceress! Surely they had enough between them to overcome whatever trial waited from this Kiune. The two from the boat, who had been quiet for a long while, looked capable enough in a fight, the boisterous dwarf was itching to use his beloved crossbow, and their orange friend looked capable enough. To top it all off, they had their own magus! Surely the odds were in their favor.

Having convinced himself, Mathew forced a grin befitting a fearless adventurer, “You’re not calling craven, are you, Stotgar? If that’s how you feel, let’s go spring a trap! I can’t tolerate anyone thinking I’m a coward.” He looks back, “Besides, I figure between the six of us we have enough brains and brawn to get through whatever we find. If we’re brave instead of reckless, and cautious, we should be able to handle ourselves. Right?”

Without waiting for a response, Mathew continues, “Right. Trom and Hector, you’ve got the pointy sticks, so you two head in first. Stotgar, take up the rear. That way Matilda has some room to sing and you can keep an eye out behind us. Nadira, join him back there? I’m not mage, but I figure you’d prefer having some human cover between you and whatever we face. Stay alert, and try to keep us from walking in blind. If this is a magical trap, then you’re our expert. Great - any objections to that? Let’s go.”

Here goes nothing, Mathew thinks to himself before beginning to walks towards the center passage, stopping a bit before its entrance to wait for the others. Let’s see what kind of mess we signed up for.

The hunt for Diana

Nadira listened to her companion and shuddered, he was convinced they had to spring the trap, in fact, he really wasn't giving much of a choice. “I suppose.. Don't you think it's a little too obvious however?”

As she was speaking her companions began to move down the tunnel, she quickly followed behind as to not get stuck on her own. This Kiune seemed... off somehow to her.

Nadira stayed close to Stotgar, She agreed her staying by the rear was probably a good idea, her magic could sometimes take time to cast, being in the forefront of a fight was never in the best interest of a mage.

As the party made their way down the tunnel, she sent a silent prayer to whatever gods would listen.