[IC] Steal Away The Light

Chapters

TBD

[mickilennial]

Location: Uhladein, Eastern Marches

---

“It’s an omen.” A voice cut through the darkness, “Rain is never a good sign.”

A group of seven looked up at the skies above, as clouds of black and gray continued to crowd the skies as solemn tears fell from their bodies. Omens. Curses. These were some of the things that scared people, even in a world that was slowly crawling to its utter demise.

“Naleil fell yesterday.” One uttered, “Malelir the day before.”

The monsters of the void were nearing the last stand of Uhladein, pieces of a kingdom. A shield of Midnos, like many of the fractured kingdom-states before it in the eastern marches. If it were to fall, the gateway to the heart of the world that remained would be open to the slaughter; and it most certainly was going to fall. At least, it would if no help came to ward off the rain. The only hope they could summon in their hearts was on the idea that before they were all dead there would be a response from Kethiline and as many hunters that were nearby in lesser Midnos and other areas would arrive to expel the void. It was funny, in a sick way; for all of the envy and power pyromancers held, their greatest achievements could be thrown asunder with a few teardrops from the cosmos.

Somewhere, a demon was laughing.

Even through the seemingly endless sprout of rain, Zecimia Etele’s scream could be heard for miles.

Void’s touch covered her skin, head-to-toe. How many times had it taken her? How many void were there? Her sword clanked to the ground, hitting the soaked stoneways as smoke continued to rise from her flesh, trying to purify the void from her touch. They had torn her body in pieces and she could taste the horrid flavor of their flesh. Of the hunters that had arrived at Uhladein she had been the first; she would be the first to perish inside the walls alongside them. She had kept back the monsters on the southern front for as long as she could, but she had expelled too much magic and now the ember had been pushed to oblivion.

She closed her eyes, smiling as she did so as the flame inside her soul burned hotter than it ever had before and she could feel her soul being reduced to ash as monsters picked at her flesh. “Finally. Darkness. I’ve been waiting for you for so long.”

The only thing that would remain of her body would be smoking ash.

Another hunter lost to oblivion. Not that anyone could notice as the ravenous void beasts encroached the walls that she and her sisters had been protecting. Those who had taken their positions on the interior of the old stronghold would now be facing more-and-more of the void as stone would begin to crumble and the great flame in the hearthfire could not fight the heavy rainfall. The pyromancers screamed at each other, all while voidlings surrounded various hunters, ready to gnaw on their bones until their bodies turned to ash. The larger void who no longer had to deal with Zecimia, well, some might say they had no reason to shamble over the walls and begin feeding and corrupting all those that they could touch.

The rain showed no signs of slowing down. Thunder and Lightning danced in unison in the sky. It was going to be a long night.

[Feyblue]

Location: Uhladein, Eastern Marches

---

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

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

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

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

"...That... way?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Lemons]

Location: Uhladein, Eastern Marches

---

The cold rain fell.

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

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

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

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

Ah. There we go.

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

Click.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Her fall ended.

The flower bloomed.

[mickilennial]

Location: Uhladein, Eastern Marches

---

Trantascilia smiled, calmly as her eyes analyzed the entire battlefield from the rooftops as the body of a void before her feet withered into ash.

It was a tale as old as time, full of omens and horrors; of people teetering on the edge as they gave everything they had to prevent the doom that awaited or to embrace the chaos as long as it lasted. Glorious! Magnificent! A splendor of women who had everything taken from them and given everything to take from the void. Rain was no omen, not to the cyromancer. No, no, no rain was a song, a masterpiece of timbre and tenor, of melody and harmony. To be scared of the pinnacle was foolhardy, even if oblivion awaited them should they perform with the utmost error. The Hunters of the Void were merely dancers waiting to dance, and rain often gave them one of the most suiting songs.

The howl of the void drew closer as a dancer danced their final dance and the blue-haired noble peered in the direction of the void. There were more of them coming in droves while their larger, more frightening members shambled toward the walls. The rain drew heavier. How long had it been raining? It felt like days, months! Not merely hours. Perhaps it could rain forever, so Trantascilia could dance until oblivion. What a sight to behold would that be? She imagined it with glee as her feet clicked against the tiled rooftops as each raindrop fell to earth. The rain underneath her feet turned to ice and she began to skate from rooftop to rooftop, as voidlings that could fly attempted to gnaw at her flesh. They were, as Tranta would call it, too slow and too weak to even contend with such ambitions.

She laughed, her head ducking underneath claws of black mass. She spun her spear outward and it caught flames of cerulean and azure. The voidflesh melting into ash as the trail of ice scoured the rooftops.

“Is that all?” She taunted, “Try harder. Dance with me.”

As if emboldened by her words, the voidlings seemed to multiply and as more came upon the Prentisian Noble it only seemed to make Tranta move faster and react with more haste. The Song of Storms was in her element and while the pyromancers carried on with fear in their lungs, Tranta, a hunter, a living weapon, could only fight with glee. The pyromancers had asked her to dance in the Song of Storms and she was happy to partake. The void would be defeated and it would be sorrowful for the hunters that lost their lives during their own dance, but to her and most hunters it was a reality of their vocation. She didn’t try to think about when her dance would end, but merely how fun the dance would be.

After all, it would be her dance that was one of many in a great symphony to save the world.

As she landed on a tiled rooftop once more she looked upward and with her free hand moved a strand of hair from her face as a slight “hmph” exited her lips. That’s when she saw it. An aerial voidling four times the size of the others. Perhaps this would be a better dance partner?

Her lips curled into a manic smile. Doubtful.

[Mcmolly]

Location: Uhladein, Eastern Marches

---

It would have been nigh-impossible to hear anything over the roaring of torrent and thunder, to say nothing of the screaming (agony and terror for garnish), or the crashing of tumbling stonework. But if one were inclined to try, and had a particularly keen ear, they might have heard commotion within the ruins of a small building near the outskirts of the southern front. At first there’d be nothing of note—cursing, angry yelling, the violent, ungodly sounds of the void at work, followed by the telltale silence of a bloody battle’s end—and very quickly our inquisitive listener might have shrugged and gone on to hear bigger and better things. But, if they had just a bit of patience, they’d be rewarded with something peculiar.

Humming.

And then singing.

The crooked door flew open and off its busted hinges, and amidst a gust of void ash sprung a lone girl trailing steam from steel claws, face smeared with black ichor. She moved with a bounce in her step, arms outstretched, letting the storm wash her clean, and sang in the way one does to themselves in the privacy of a bath or a long walk, when they’re certain no one else, not even a curious, hypothetical listener, can hear them.

“Rain on my skin, and ice in my mouth~
The smiles in my tummy when papa’s around~
The teeth of my en-e-mies scattered on the ground~
These are my fa-vo-rite things~ Aaaaand…”

Blessedly, before she could stumble through another verse, she was interrupted by a boom she could feel all the way into her bones, and the blindingly bright blossom of an explosion near the base of Uhladein. For a moment she was utterly captivated, mumbling a quiet, “Wooah…” before she noticed something.

All the fucking void were gone.

Well, okay they weren’t gone, but they’d all moved on from the outer defenses now, towards the inner walls and the tower proper. “What the fuck?” she spat, and what-the-fuck was right. They hadn’t won yet. Just because she’d gotten dragged into a scrap in some dinghy shack for a few minutes didn’t mean they were allowed to just ignore her. That wasn’t fair, it was bullshit. It was bullshit and—

Another explosion rocked the earth, and all of her complaints were blown away like dirt and ash.

Rain on My Skin, Ice in My Mouth grinned, bright-eyed and giddy. Fuck it, no point in wasting any more time. The party might have moved, but it definitely wasn’t over. She began to jog towards the tower, and deep within her, a heat equal parts ethereal and corporeal began to flare.

Not too far away, she noticed another hunter obscured by the rainfall: a tall woman with a big sword and no gumption. As she passed by, Rain hollered loud in the lull between thunderclaps.

“Pick up the pace, granny! We’re missing all the fun!”

Rain hopped and planted herself on the ground in a four-point stance. Her claws sank and found purchase in the tough soil beneath the mud, her feet pressed into a spring-tight lunge. As the heat within her built, steam began to rise from her form. The rain that soaked her through was evaporating as quickly as it touched her, and as the moments went on, even before it touched her. With the sudden crackling growl of a fire igniting, a haze of searing air burst around her, and Rain was instantly dry as a bone. Her hair fluffed out around her, the muddy ground beneath her hardened and cracked and melted against her claws.

It hurt. She grated her teeth into a grin and focused on Uhladein. Her whole body coiled with effort, boiled with heat, and just when the first bit of skin began to peel, she let it go.

With a thunderous roar, Rain launched across the empty battlefield, a comet’s tail of steam. She flew and flew and when she was low enough for her feet to touch the ground, she pushed off of it and shot upward. Colossal voidlings were closing in, some earthbound, others winged. One she saw engulfed in the flames of the second explosion, another, further, seemed drawn towards the rooftops.

Rain found one scaling the inner walls, a massive thing with multiple legs. She boosted herself higher, above it, then torqued to be upside down and brought her legs up above her head. Momentum kept her there for a moment, hanging in the air as though she had her feet pressed against the ceiling of the sky. Before gravity could have the pleasure, she blasted herself down, rocketing towards the creature in a whirling fury of white-hot claws and sharp, flashing teeth. Ichor sprayed the air as its umbral legs were severed, and its hulking body fell from the wall in a tide of dust and rainwater.

Rain landed as it began to dissolve, but in the ash she noticed a great mass remained. Writhing and screeching, she realized then that the voidling had only been half a threat itself—it had been carrying the other half. Dozens of smaller voidlings skittered free, some making for the wall, others fled for easier pickings.

Most, to her delight, came straight for her.

[Kidd]

Location: Uhladein, Eastern Marches

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Feyblue]

Location: Uhladein, Eastern Marches

---

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

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

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

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

"Leave these... to you."

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

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

[mickilennial]

Location: Uhladein, Eastern Marches

---

“Maker, protect us from the storm…”

“...the storm that brings the void to our hearth…”

“...give us certainty in the endless darkness…”

“...and make sure–”

The pyromancer’s prayer was cut short as screams echoed in the hearthfire’s ember, as a horrid void crawled upon the peak of the tower; an inhuman, distorted screech coming from its gaping maw. Had the lone hunter with the cannon stayed, perhaps they would not have screamed, perhaps the voidling would have been blasted into oblivion. Perhaps so, but alas such was not the case; the pyromancers were alone and many were shaken from their task. Pyromancer Galeil, the leader of the lot, was the only one among the pyromancers who did not panic and as such was barking orders to his lessers almost immediately. They didn’t listen. Pyromancer Riessima had never seen a void before. Pyromancer Daviel was a coward. Pyromancer Zulman was ready to die. The fire itself shook as the six apprentice pyromancers struggled to hold the flame, and in the end, their only chance to survive this horrid day.

“Hold! Hold, you void-forsaken cowards!” He growled, as he held out his hands, using his master of pyromancies to create a sphere of fire the size of an ogre's skull as fast as he could. The void creature snarled in response, but not before the sphere was thrown into its face and engulfed it in the thing it hated the most: the warmth and light of the flame. There would be nothing that remained of the voidling in seconds as the elder pyromancer melted every inch of its body.

Galeil sighed as he began channeling his magic once more into the elemental shard. He didn’t blame any of the apprentices to not handle the stress and fear that came with their current situation. It was bad. He had been in two similar situations in his life and he wasn’t particularly thrilled that the day had come where it could be his third and potentially his final call to the flame. Only a small handful of hunters had come and he feared they had already lost a few of that small handful, some were as green as his own apprentices.

“Roc hatchlings. Corrupted by the void.” He looked up at the sky through the archway as his body shook in anxious dread. “You shouldn’t waste your fear on them.”

“Ser?”

He turned, “You should fear their mother.”

In seconds, almost like it was answering Galeil, a louder, bigger, and even more horrifying screech boomed across the skies. He imagined the situation below, on the ground, wasn’t much better.

“We got–oh maker no–we got a–aarrrrrrghhh!”

The sound of bones being crushed into a pudding was never a particularly pleasant sound. Coupled with the tearing and the screaming, the line of guards that formed didn’t quite know how to handle the creature before them as it released their friend, their comrade, whom they had known for five years, with a soft ‘plop’ on the stone road before them. He was unrecognizable.

Ogres could do this normally. They stood well over twelve feet with muscle that was hard to sever from the bone. The void had taken this ogre and the mass of goblins behind him, coating their skin like black tar and turning their eyes into an endless abyss. The flat fingertips had formed terrible claws that ended its reach. As it and its minions approached it laughed in a dark, almost indiscernible way. In mere moments all of the void goblins screeched as they charged the assortment of guards with demonic speed.

They had no chance.

[Mcmolly]

Location: Uhladein, Eastern Marches

---

Rain’s back hit stone as a trio of the skittering voidlings pinned her to the wall. One needlelike limb speared her shoulder, another dug deep into her thigh, and she felt two or three more clawing at her kicking feet. Pain flooded her, but it was an undercurrent in the burning deluge of her Gift. There was no way in hell she was about to admit these fuckin’ things were actually hurting her, not a chance. Gross.

Pincers clacked inches from her face, behind them a gnashing maw of razor shadows. Hungry little shit. She would have spat at it, cursed, told it to take a number and get back in line cause she hadn’t eaten all day either, but the spear in her shoulder twisted just right, and her words turned to a pained gasp.

Alright, fuck this. If it wanted to eat so bad, she’d feed it.

Rain let go of one limb, conceding it to scrape into her back, and jammed one gauntleted hand into the thing’s mouth. The furnace within her growled, flared beneath her skin, and for a brief moment the creature’s throat was bright as lamplight. It screeched, or started to, but she yanked her hand up and through its body with all the resistance of melting wax. It fell back, another clawed through its ashen body to take its place. Rain dipped to the side and slammed it into the wall, then sunk her own teeth into the back of what she guessed was where its head would be. Another shriek, something crunched and squished as her jaw snapped shut, and she spat ash onto the ground. The last one was crushed under boiling foot.

In the momentary quiet, she realized the slowpoke on the outskirts had caught up at one point, and carried on further into the keep. Between the rain and the hellbeasts, she hadn’t gotten a good look at her, but even distracted she was sure there’d been some weird shit going on. Regardless, the sounds within Uhladein were myriad and terrible—the party was moving again.

No way was she gonna let whatsherfuck have all the fun.

As Rain dug claws into stone and scaled the wall like a normal freak of nature, she heard screaming—different screaming, not the kind that was literally all around her, this was a collective deal. Once she was atop the ramparts, she scanned what she could see of the keep, and in the flashes of lightning, she thought she saw what had caught her ear.

Not terribly far away, a handful of guards were getting their shit rocked. No wonder though, cause the voidling doing the rocking was hands-down one of the biggest creatures she’d ever seen, and it was accompanied by a swarm of smaller, uglier little bastards too. Whoever it got its hands on didn’t last more than a few seconds, and those who were falling back weren’t going to get far before the void goblins caught up to them.

Far above, she heard a screech so loud it dwarfed the thunder. She looked up, hoping to spot some massive silhouette in the storm clouds, illuminated by the lightning, but was too late. Fighting something in the air, now that sounded like fun. Better than spiders and goblins and ogres. But she couldn’t get herself to move. She heard the guards scream again, and scowled up at the rain. Technically speaking, she wasn’t here to protect the guards, just the ember. It was their fault, really, for being so far out from the inner protections this long into the siege. Papa had said this is what happened—the void attacked, and people died. Not Rain obviously, but other people who weren’t as awesome as she was. It was just the way of things.

“Ughhhh…fuck."

You know what, being in the sky was overrated. Besides, she could get airborne any time she wanted, so really, if she thought about it, fighting some dumb void bird in the sky was actually way lamer than facing off against a giant with an army of violence at its heels.

Yeah, this would be cooler. Rain would know, she was kinda the leading authority on cool things.

Leaping back down, Rain shot off just before she touched the earth again, and made a B-line for the remaining guards. She dragged a claw along the dirt, and kicked up a wave of hot dust and shredded stonework between them and the goblins, before planting herself directly in their path. The voidlings hesitated, just for a moment, but if the guards were smart they’d capitalize on it and get their dumbasses further into the keep. If not, oh well, right? Not her problem, she was just here for a good time.

“You fuckers better make me look good.”

The voidlings came rushing in answer, and she met them with tooth and claw. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew this was too much, knew there were too many. She’d only been a hunter for a few months now, and she’d seen more void in the first hour of this siege than she had in her whole life, and nothing nearly as deadly.

But what did deadly matter? It wasn’t like she could die, right? Papa said so. No matter how much she got hurt, as long as she didn’t give up she’d just keep healing. Just keep fighting. Dying scared her, sure, but if all she had to do to avoid it was take a little pain, then there was no problem. She could take it.

She didn’t have a choice.

[Lemons]

Location: Uhladein, Eastern Marches

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Kidd]

Location: Uhladein, Eastern Marches

---

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

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

Was that a hunter?

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

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

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

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

[Feyblue]

Location: Uhladein, Eastern Marches

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[mickilennial]

Location: Uhladein, Eastern Marches

---

“Finally!” A demented smile slunk onto Trantascilia’s lips as pillars of ice shot from her feet, melting as soon as they dropped to the streets below. “You come to face me! I’ve been waiting!”

Roc Queens were apex predators. A full grown Rock Queen with its wingspan spread out, it could sit on the entirety of the top on the rooftops of wondrous structures like the Grand Library of Prentis and the Emberdawn Keep. They fed on ogres and serpents alike, attacking galleons and wharfs with ease and it was here that the blue-haired hunter could face it in glorious combat. Two noble maidens gliding through the wind, aero and frost clashing in a duel that no normal human could imagine. It almost made her giddy.

Feelings such as joy and bliss were not ones that a Hunter of the Void typically felt. Most of those Trantascilia had worked with had been as insufferable as they were nihilistic. The pain in their bones and blood was a constant. They couldn’t sleep. They could barely taste food. She was no exception to this, of course, but despite the chilling cold burning in her bones she refused to admit defeat, less of all to the void. Zecimia called her a pampered idiot. Kelana proposed she was lying to herself. Miilieae told her she had lost her mind. Oh her friends, her comrades; how they were so utterly wrong. But all had their presumptions, she supposed. Often Trantascilia had said she was the “most sane” of their ilk.

No hunter of the void could stay completely sane, after all.

They fought nightmare monsters against impossible odds to not only save humankind but redeem it! But if you looked at the unending darkness and didn’t come out as a different person, then you… then you must be the Legendary Rimaeria Saldosius who stood against the void, alone, and with the burning passion of an entire kingdom in their soul! Neither Millieae or Trantascilia herself was Rimaeria, nor did Trantascilia try to be. She hadn’t broken in the same way as others had. Why should she be labeled as mad for rejecting the darkness instead of embracing it? Embracing it is how you ended up as a Fianna or Miriene!

Transcilia laughed underneath her breath as her feet touched the side of a rain-drenched clocktower, the water freezing as she hit the old stone as she began running up the clocktower to meet the corrupted creature. The hearthfire stood in the distance over her shoulder, above everything else in the city–that was her way up to meet the Roc Queen. When she reached the rooftop of the clocktower she spun into an aerial flip, meeting the side of the hearthfire keep as she had done with the clocktower.

“Come Vyelas! Let us dance with the tainted soul of a bird of prey! Let’s purify them into oblivion!”

The hum of her weapon vibrating in her mind as she ran past the Head Pyromancer as he looked out of a window at breakneck speeds. He lurched back in the archway almost on instinct.

“Don’t let the crystal shatter, boys!” She shouted over the storm, before she and the Roc finally began their dance proper.

She spun upward, spinning into a motion that represented a drill and she met the body of the Roc, her magicks freezing the Trantascilia-sized hole in its leftmost wing as it roared in anger before the blue-haired frostfire hunter landed on the back of the creature in a quick flip. Her laugh echoed across the skies as giant blue flames flashed behind the wings of the Roc despite the storm raging on.

Maybe she had lost her mind more than she insisted.

[Lemons]

Location: Uhladein, Eastern Marches

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Mcmolly]

Location: Uhladein, Eastern Marches

---

Keep moving, Rain thought, dashing and flailing through the swarm of voidlings. What her claws touched they destroyed, cleaving apart with fiery ease, but the goblins still found purchase when they dug into her flesh. She tried to push her ember further, make herself molten, but it was too much. She knew pain, she could ignore it, embrace it, but sometimes she forgot that even if she was a Hunter, her body was still a body. Even with so much experience her vision still blurred and her knees still buckled under the heat and strain and god it felt like her heart was melting out of her chest. By the time she had drawn closer to the Ogre, she was hunched practically to a crawl, half swiping at the seemingly endless mass of voidlings surrounding her, and half dragging herself across the liquifying stone.

Keep moving. You’re going to die. You can’t die. You cannot die. Fucking move, dammit.

Move—

Another explosion, just as beautiful as the others, only those she’d seen from afar. This one struck close, so close that the blast threw Rain many feet onto her back. Her focus was rocked and she cooled near-instantly, sitting up on her elbows as the storm pelted her once again. She saw the Hunter responsible then, a woman with a long braid, a gleaming eye, and an absolutely massive fuckoff cannon on her shoulder.

_“What?” Rain squeaked, blinking, still in something of a daze herself.

Thankfully, the Ogre was there to snap her out of it. Roaring with fury, it reeled through the fire and smoke, still intent on her, as were the voidlings recovering from the explosion. Rain scrambled to her knees, igniting herself and her claws in time to cut down a few of the more eager bastards before the rest poured in. The Ogre drew closer, arms raised above its head, poised to smash down, but Rain could hardly crawl an inch without having to shove and rip and bite through a dozen goblins. No! the thought tore through her head, made her whole self shake. No no nonono.

To her credit, she didn’t shut her eyes, or look away.

And yet despite that she still hardly the pink-haired hunter coming. How could someone so big move so quickly? And while carrying what looked like a giant fucking door on fire.

“Watch it!” the woman yelled. Her voice was loud even over the storm, and startled Rain just as much as the explosion had. In a blur of steps she was standing before her, shield raised like an idiot. You couldn’t block something like that.

She blocked it.

“What?

The voidlings’ attentions split now between the two of them, and the shieldmaiden, as if it were nothing, used one hand to swing a sickle that looked like it had been forged from blood and hellfire. Rain found her bearings easily, finally getting back up to her feet and returning her focus to the Ogre. The Ogre, however, was thoroughly distracted.

By the granny?

It had been hard to make out much of the white-haired woman through the storm in the outskirts, and on the wall Rain had gotten a sense that something wasn’t quite…right about her. Now, so close, it was impossible to miss. Yes, there was something wrong with her. There was something very wrong with her. Arms didn’t look like that, swords didn’t move like that, flesh especially didn’t move like that. If not for the barest baseline silhouette of a woman Rain might not have thought she was human at all—or, as human as Hunters could be, anyway.

She tried in vain to make sense of what she saw, and failed just in time to see that grotesque arm pop like a zit and splash the Ogre with a generous amount of hideous bile. The woman hardly seemed to notice, like she’d been born with on arm pre-exploded. Steady as stone, she raised her sword again.

“WHAT?”

Oh god, Rain thought, volcanic heart pounding as she looked around between the swordswoman, the shieldmaiden, and then up at the flashes of blue flames and awesome explosions. Oh no. They’re all cool. Oh they’re really cool.

Rain hunched with the effort that came from stoking her ember. White-hot pain rushed through her veins, and in the work of moments the rain turned to steam on her skin and she was dry once more. Her claws grew bright, her teeth glinted in the haze, her feet melted into the stone to brace.

But not cooler than me!

In a blast of heat and fire, Rain rocketed up at the Ogre as its focus settled onto the swordswoman. Stupid monster never should have taken its eyes off her, now it was gonna pay for making her look like some fucking damsel.

She impacted on its chest, but wasn’t there long enough to give it the chance to swipe her off. Another blast took her up, digging hot claw-marks all the way up to its wounded shoulder, where she let go and flew high over its head. Torquing her body around, burning herself into a bright bolt of fury, she plunged down for its head in a violent corkscrew. It roared, more annoyed than pained, and when it found her it reached up to snatch her out of the sky like a gnat.

It succeeded—sort of. It did reach her, but it would have had better luck grasping lightning. Rain pierced through its hand, taint and flesh and bone and all like a bullet through wax paper, and continued tearing down its arm in a bloody spiral. The hand had slowed her though, not enough to stop, but enough that when she reached the gaping wound in its shoulder she didn’t quite have the momentum to breach it. She did get deep, and her claws scorched its collarbone clean in two, but reach as she did, and short as she was, she couldn’t quite get to its giant, ugly heart.

So she remained there for a few moments, a burning tick jammed into the flesh and bone of the Ogre’s neck. For a brief moment she thought she might not be able to get out, but then to assuage her worries, the agonized creature gripped her by the leg and yanked her free with the hand that now bore a tiny, hunter-sized hole in it.

Hanging there, upside down, she stared into the Ogre’s void-touched eyes and found herself cooling again. She’d pushed herself hard, her skin was severely blackened all over, as was her hair, and though her tongue was burned beyond tasting, she knew the familiar texture of melting bone in her mouth. But it was a different pang shooting through her, different from heat, and pain, and even panic. It was fear.

The Ogre reeled its arm back and spiked her into the earth, and even wounded as it was, there was more force behind it than anything Rain had ever encountered before. Dust and dirt and mud and melted stone showered the air. Rain’s whole world went blindingly white, then horrifically dark.

I’m dead. She thought, momentarily unaware that dead people did not think, and could not feel that their bones were broken. She wasn’t dead, not yet at least. She lay in a small crater, utterly ruined, as her ember worked ferociously to repair her, and stared up at the massive creature through the blur of smoke and blood and one busted eye.

Body quaking in protest, she tried to crawl out, tried to get back to her feet. The healing process was slow, but it was working. Her skin was coloring again, her splintered bones mending. What remained of her teeth clattered from her gums onto the ground as new ones grew in their place.

“Stupid…fuckin’…Ogre…”

Stupid fucking Ogre, indeed.

[Kidd]

Location: Uhladein, Eastern Marches

---

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

Monster.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[mickilennial]

Location: Uhladein, Eastern Marches

---

“Void. I hate Midnosians.” Galeil sighed as the hunter barked at the other pyromancers.

If she was so good why didn’t she sit in the tower and make sure she showed all of them how it was done? The arrogance of the sun knew no bounds. The older pyromancer sighed as he eyed out of the arches as the sight of the Queen Roc falling toward the city was apparent as another one of the hunters remained on its back as the voidflesh melted from the bone. Yeah, that was the way to protect everyone! Make sure more of Uhladein was destroyed! What a great plan! On days like this he wasn’t sure what was going to kill him first; the void, or some ill-gotten plan from a hunter.

He wiped his nose as the thought passed him by, looking up at the rain. It was still pounding, but the clouds above seemed to be stirring. The storm would not be for much longer.

“Girl. Maybe, instead of barking at your lessers, you can pour some of your magic into the crystal. Storm’s about to break soon… and we will want the flame up as soon as possible. Unless you forgot that when you turned into... you.”

The ogre roared as the pink-haired Ldranti hunter was tossed aside, the void-corrupted creature’s voice booming through the crowd.

Black, corrupted blood painted the cracked, stone tiles it stood upon as it reverted its attention on the hunters and guardsmen before it. For the magically inclined, the air tasted wrong, like it did when void magic was present–like an arcane rot that permeated with such potentness it made even the smell of rotting flesh seem like that of daisies and tulips. A swirl of black and purple surrounded its arm-hole as more blood drooped from its fangs. It’s head began to jerk and jerk and jerk... until it suddenly and violently snapped in half. More guardsmen screamed in terror. Well, whoever was left and whoever had not run. As a few scrambled back in an attempt to create spacing, void flesh pooled over the limb, forming itself a new arm.

A void arm with four, sharp, dragonfang-like claws. The ogre laughed, but it had no mouth.

Teeth-like spikes jotted out of the split skull.

It charged forward, trying to grab the first thing it possibly could with its new claw. It did not pay any mind to its fellow void that was tumbling through the skies above.

[Feyblue]

Location: Uhladein, Eastern Marches

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Shut up."

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

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

[Mcmolly]

Location: Uhladein, Eastern Marches

---

The pain must have been fucking with her vision, because as Rain crawled to a knee, body knitting itself back together, ember flaring back to heat, she could have sworn she saw the Ogre’s head split open. The shieldmaiden had blown out its shin before being thrown away, but whatever the state of its bones it stood up anyway.

It didn’t look like an Ogre anymore. It didn’t look like anything. In the lightning its silhouette was singular and otherworldly. Rain had been right, what she felt was fear. How could anyone look at this and not feel it too?

But Rain didn’t process fear well. At home, fear was chum in ravenous, hungry waters. If the other kids saw your fear, they knew they could eat your food and take your teeth and that you wouldn’t do anything about it but cry. Rain didn’t cry. She handled fear in the same way she handled everything else she didn’t understand.

She got mad.

The thing let out a sound with no mortal origin, the mirth and fury of the unknowable that made thunder shrink and made her insides curl. She met it with a roar of her own, not nearly so loud, but the anger sent molten soulfire spilling from her still-sealing wounds. Rain forgot she was going to die just long enough that, if the Ogre was any faster, it would kill her before she got the chance to remember.

And it was fast—but not fast enough. Its horrific clawed arm lurched down, and met the marriage of steel and flesh that was the swordswoman. Rain’s sense caught up with her and her she fell quiet, watching in awe as the Huntress matched the Ogre’s horrible strength and pulled the blow aside. Before she could say anything else though, she felt something wrap around her, and briefly considering getting angry again instead of panicking. She realized though that the something was in fact someone. The swordswoman—kind of. A tail had burst from her, sizzling against Rain’s body, and then just as quickly she found herself tossed wholly away like a steaming tumbleweed.

Now that was worth getting angry over. Rain wasn’t exactly substantial, but dammit, you did not pick her up and you most definitely did not throw her. She had ripped out molars for slights a fraction as heinous; this Huntress was going to owe her a whole jawbone’s worth of teeth. She—

She was dead.

The Ogre’s other arm came down, and…it was like blinking. The woman was there, and then she just wasn’t. Bits of her were there. And there. And waaaaay over there. Rain’s eyes followed the sword as it tumbled through the air, embedding itself into the nearby tower wall. She stared, dumbfounded.

She saved me.

She’s dead.

“But...” she babbled like an idiot, like the first time papa had ever shown her a magic trick. People died at these things, that’s the way it was. Obviously that meant Hunters too, didn’t it? Rain had never seen it happen before, it always sounded like it was nearly impossible to do. But she was gone, just as fast and easily as the guards.

You didn’t move. Now she’s dead.

Something bubbled up within her. Something new, and strange, and its pangs felt like pain, but she was already hurting and she could still tell it apart. She didn’t understand it.

So she got mad instead. Real mad, real fast. Her ember practically exploded with heat, and it filled her up like she was a sponge dropped into a lake of fire. Her bones melted back together, her blown-put eye formed anew in its socket. As fast as her skin could boil and blacken, it healed again. Beneath her the dirt and mud and stone hardened like bedrock as she pushed herself to her feet. She stared at the sword.

The Ogre’s eldritch wail shamed the thunder again, but Rain hardly heard it this time. She felt it though, felt the wind tearing like skin as the back of its other, unmutated arm came swinging at her, but she couldn’t take her eyes off that stupid fucking sword.

With a slicing, searing sound, the Ogre’s arm connected with her—and as if it had tried to swat the edge of a blade, its hand was severed by the heat, and Rain remained standing, unmoved. She looked down at herself, at her claws, they’d never gotten so bright before.

Wow, fuck. This hurts.

Rain spun on her heel, crouched low, and took aim of herself as the Ogre reeled back away from her.

“Eyes open big girl!” she shouted to the shieldmaiden.

A blast of fire sent Rain hurtling into the Ogre, and just as it got steady, she slammed into its chest, almost exactly where she had before. This time however, she wasn’t going aerial, and she wasn’t trying to bore into it. She’d tried being a drill, and it hadn’t worked. So now she was done with the precision shit.

Dynamite made holes, too.

She channeled her heat into her claws, dug them as deep into the Ogre’s flesh as she could, and then released it all at once. A violent, massive explosion almost rivaling the ones from the cannoneer enveloped the Ogre’s chest, and sent a torrent of flesh, blood, bone and void into the sky.

Rain flew in a streak of smoke and hit the ground, cooled, burnt, but in her wits enough to see that she’d blasted the monster’s chest wide open. Ribs, too many ribs and too big, were snapped and blackened and busted open like a cage. And there within it was the twisted songbird—the heart.

[Lemons]

Location: Uhladein, Eastern Marches

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then, a whispered "Boom."

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

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

Maker damn you, Mom.