Upon Fell wings[Don/Perun]

[Ilheod]

They'd been what felt like a day behind. The intense fog that obscured the mountains when they'd been caught in the fight had given them a horrible misdirection. They'd initially gone to Araphen, hoping their guess would be correct. It was not, and lives had already been lost. Ilheod could still remember it clearly.

---

" Commander. Nothing yet. I don't know how far they've gotten..but no one in town is able to give any indication as to any such sightings. The few that even know what a gargoyle is just think it's more talk of the City of Heroes. I really don't think their anywhere around Araphen."

Alexander stood at the older man's side, helmet tucked under his arm and pressed to his hip as he stood near the older wyvern commander. The slight tricklings of rain against his plate armor contrasted the soft thuds it made upon Ilheod's gargoyle bone armor. Ilheod grumbled quietly with a nod and walked past him, both men moving out of the leaky covering the tavern offered before fully stepping into the rain. As Alexander placed his back upon his head, Ilheod lifted the helm over his own, which resembled almost unsettling so, the head of a gargoyle. He then fastened the mask over his lower jaw and nose, before heading for the barn that both men's wyverns rested within. Both men were leading their wyverns out of the barn when splashing caught their attention. From the entrance of the town a man upon a horse had come galloping in with haste that immediately gave him pause for concern. In the back of his mind..he already had an inkling of fear as to what news the man brought. None the less, both riders slowly began to approach the man with firm grip upon the reigns of the mounts to ensure neither spooked the steed; or the approaching guards.

As the guards rushed to the man's side, he fell from his quickly slowed steed, caked in dried blood and now partially covered in slick mud. A few bystanders rushed forwards. The man nearly clung to the extended forearm of the closest guard as the man knelt to try and assist him. His frenzied voice one clearly of someone panic-stricken.

" Help...he...someone help! It's a nightmare! Khathelet-..in Khathelet! My town...it's...monsters! Flying monsters! It's..I..so many dead!!"

Seldom could Ilheod say he was legitimately ashamed of himself. This...was one of those rare moments. His folly as a commander, his lack of decisive choices had given these creatures the means to slip past them. Now, countless were suffering because of what he'd failed to kill. He didn't wait to hear any more. Khathelet. South of Arapehn. All the direction he needed. This time, he wouldn't let them escape. This time. The winged monsters would each get put down. The sounds of the frenzied man still crying of dark winged terrors echoed hauntingly both in his ears and mind, as he hopped onto Astraeus and flew swiftly into the stormy skies. Alexander was behind him moments later. He'd regroup with his lads, and they'd purge these fiends. Every. Last. One.

------

Within Khathelet's small boarders nestled a plethora of small towns. Most were quaint farming villages, with some that relied nicely on their prime industry of smiting given the abundance of high quality ore found within the mountains they shared to Bern and the southern territory of Tania. It was within this boundary, a small village rested neatly between the boarders of Araphen and Khathelet resided. They'd been taking in refugee's for a day and a half, from the town over. Most wounded or hungry, but whole none the less. Word of the attack had started to spread. Winged monsters that could rend armor with some ease and swiftly navigated the skies with spears to further prompt their devlish ferocity.

It was mid-day and the skies still grey from the storm the day before, when the first sign started to show. They saw them swiftly approaching on the horizon. Tens of them, wings flapping swiftly as their thin bodies sped through the air. Unlike the previous town however, the village had been on alert in the improbibility that such a thing would happen. The small alarm bell began to breach the silence with its constant tones while people scattered about in a panic.

The second attack, had just started.

[Donovan]

The green clad mercenary was not unfamiliar with horses. Having been raised in a troupe, with caravans and wagons, he had actually grown quite accustomed to the creatures during his youth. Of course, his family hadn’t owned any in the years after his father’s death, so it was a little strange to be riding one again. However, here he was, leader of a growing band of mercenaries — warriors and defenders from all walks of life determined to protect their country — and subsequently, he had been able to afford a steed. It wasn’t a warhorse bred for battle, the man called Donovan had no knowledge of how to fight from horseback. Aonbarr Bán, so named for it’s white hair, was quite a sensible horse. She was quite bright, though not the flashiest or fastest horse, and was particularly good at traveling long distances and keeping a cool head whenever trouble surfaced — as it so often did in her silver tongued rider’s world. He’d bought her off the captain of the Scuabtuinne, a sailing vessel who's name Donovan could hardly pronounce let alone spell, and the mare had served him quite well ever since.

It had been a long day’s travel, but they could now see a village on the horizon of the Khathleet skyline. The company was small, but, Donovan would argue, mighty. With the dynamic duo of Donovan and Perun reunited once more after having separated briefly to recruit fighters and slay monsters around Lycia, the merc with a silver tongue was feeling quite sure in their success today. Especially since Perun had some members of his honor guard with him. The Giant had befriended a band of Fellows on his journeys, and they seemed to have attached themselves quite readily to his broad shadow. Donovan had brought a trio of mercenaries under his command as well; an archer named Kendal, disowned daughter of a wealthy Etruria merchant; Reagan, a reformed bandit who left their gang when Hargus rose again and went into the moral grey zone of mercenary work; and a dishonored soldier of Santa Cruz named Doogan, who’d been relieved of duty when he was caught selling castle goods to local crime lords. They, all three, were far from noble in character, but they saw the bigger picture of things, and knew that these monsters posed a terrible threat to the place they now called home. And the rumors of Gargoyles coming into the eastern front from Bern were not something any of them were willing to let get out of hand.

Exhaustion pierced through Donovan’s endurance and as he lead Aonbarr to the stables and washed the poor girl down before making sure she was fed and comfortable for the night. The party worked in relative silence, they journey north having taken its toll on all of them. Finally, when he was sure that the silver horse he rode was comfortable, Don lifted Kitchi from the saddle bag he’d been sitting in for much of the journey and the pair headed inside with a few weary mutterings of goodnight to his allies. He clapped Perun on the shoulder, and wished the Giant a good night’s rest before heading into the inn, putting a sack of gold onto the counter in front of the barman to pay for the beds they’d be occupying that night, and heading straight up the stairs for a deep sleep.

[Perun]

The orange haired giant's mount wasn't very fast, but that could have just been because the man sitting on top of him was so huge. What it was was large and powerful. He hadn't named it yet, but he was trying to think of something for it. Something of his language would fit the big beast better than any sort of name from the outside world's common language. What did people even name their animals out here? Hello, this is Jonathan my dog.

Embarrassingly enough, Perun wasn't very good at riding. In the past few hours alone of riding, he'd fallen off some three times. Dorril was the only one of his fellows to laugh at the giant at first, but after about the fifteenth time it had stopped being funny at all to the young man. Tristram from the start had been so put out, the gentleman that he was, that each time he began to get off his own horse to try and help Perun, but each time the hairy man had barked him away. Janum never gave any sort of response, he simply looked at Perun a few times at the start, but had long since stopped giving it any attention.

However, they'd managed to make good time and reach a town where they could stay for the evening, and after resting all their mounts, the small troop had gone into an inn, looking forward to some much needed rest. However, not long after they'd entered the inn they heard an alarm bell, and one of the small people in the inn yelled out, "THE GARGOYLES!" Perun was likely the only person in his company that got excited at the thought of a fight. He was the worst rider in the company, but now he could prove he was the best at something. He tore his bow out of its case and strung it quickly, setting an arrow to the string almost as soon as it was strung. Then, without thinking-

Perun kicked the door open. Then he rushed out, and aimed his bow at the horizon, his blood was rising and his eyes narrowed at the night sky.

[Ilheod]

People had already started to realize the horror descending upon them. A handful of guards armed with spears and toting arm small shields were moving to the sides of streets, herding people into buildings or standing outside doors as if to bar the entrance to the unsightly creatures soaring through the sky. Some far more timid looking than others, and a few attempting to get atop the buildings, bows in hand. It was about the best defense they could attempt to muster given the situation.

Bells echoed through out the village. From three wooden towers positioned at the northern, eastern, and southern points of the village, stood sentries atop with arms pulling frantically at the ropes which furiously worked back and forth. Citizens through out the town were moving in a frenzy as winged fiends descended down upon them. The screams that began to dot the streets and alleyways was a horrid cacophony of panic and sheer terror as the monsters went into a savage frenzy. The village guard hadn't the time to react to the speed of the approach, and most were scrambling to get to a point where they could even get near the flying devils. Occasionally an arrow would soar through the air, often missing the agile creatures that moved about with almost aimless intent, simply sowing havoc into their every path.

---

He couldn't hear anything with the wind racing past his ears. Perhaps the biggest flaw to flying, was that it suppressed the senses so readily. With the air rushing so intensely he couldn't smell anything, and his sense of sound was entirely gone any time they were in motion. The noise had to be exceptionally loud for him to have any hope of responding. His sense of sight though was all he needed, and as he lifted an arm and signaled his unit to slow their flight, he gazed out along the landscape with a frown. It wasn't until he moved to a pace just enough to keep aloft that he could hear again, and it confirmed his fears immediately. The village had small traces of smoke rising upwards. Early signs of fire on a larger scale. It meant at-least two buildings were on fire from something. Then he heard the bells ringing, and felt he knew for certain what the cause was.

Sure, there was the off chance that this Lycian town was simply strange and had the bells in the event of a festival or the such; but he highly doubted it given the circumstances. Then he saw them . Ashen wings fluttering about as thin bodied figures darted on such fell wings through the skies and dived into the village only to rise back up. His fist gripped at the shaft of his spear until his knuckles ran white and his wrist ran tense. Snarling with anger at the sight he lifted his spear to signal an advance while he tucked his knees and gestured for the dive downwards. His wyvern's colossal darkened wings extended as the sharp upwards flaps happened. The small unit of wyverns ascended with their commander before they veered into sight above the village further and jolted downwards abruptly. The pressure of the wind whipping past them compressed Ilheod against the back of his wyvern, and he locked his right arm in place and lined his spear as they began to dive for the combative disaster. Astraeus let out a piercing shriek that was mirrored by the other wyverns. It was able to distract some of the winged fiends, but not all of them. There were too many scattered through out the village.

When the first clash happened, it was like the force of two charging bulls crashing together. The first creature stood little chance, as it knew not the dangers of Ilheod's weapon. Though clad in the armor of it's kin, survival instincts had ultimately failed the creature. His silver infused spear crashed through the monster's body and sank deeply until the spear found ultimate resistance in the creatures inner bones. The wail of agony it let out was drowned in the sounds of combat breaking out both within the sky, and below as the few able bodied guardsmen not baring shelters attempted to fight off the fiends. A group near the center districts looked ready to falter however. Limited experience as they were though, their struggles fared far greater. If they didn't get some form of leadership, they were likely to break ranks.

Otherwise, the guard seemed to hold somewhat fast as a eye-patch clad lycian tried to rally some of the guardsmen in the eastern edges of the town where the infestation was seemingly at it's worst. Like most infestations, it seemed this would not be removed with ease.

[Donovan]

It had only been a couple of hours after they’d entered the inn, when Fortune decided to piss on her soldiers. The raven haired mercenary was dead to the world. He lay on his stomach, the crook of his elbow pressed against his face to black out the world, a small trail of drool trailed from the side of his mouth and leaked onto the bed sheets. When the alarm bell began to ring out through the town, Donovan’s body whipped up to a sitting position. His curly hair was stuck straight up, as his bright green eyes snapped around the room to try and find where he’d laid out his chest armor, boots, and weapons. Jumping up to his feet, he threw on the leather boots and armor, before clipping Fragarach to his waist, sliding a dagger into the slot hidden in his boot, and slipping his dirk into the sheath on his oaken targe. As he ran toward the door to the rest of the Inn, he caught a glimpse of his ridiculous hair in the mirror, turned around and grabbed a simple grey knit cap from his satchel. He flew down the stairs, catching a glimpse of Perun outside with his bow aimed at the skies above. Gargoyles.

The silver tongued mercenary sprinted outside with his shield on one hand and Fragarach in the other. While his company was fairing better than most, bolstered by Perun’s skill and some monster fighting experience, the local guard in the center district where the inn was located were in disarray. They didn’t seem to have any sort captain or leader whatsoever. Kendal unleashed an arrow, managing to hit one of the monsters wings and damaging its maneuverability, but ultimately the young woman lacked the strength to land any sort of killing blow. Thankfully, one member of their party had that in spades.

Pointing Fragarach at the creature with the wounded wing, Donovan shouted “PERUN, TAKE IT!” An unlucky guard looked over at the command and tried to fire their bow at the beast, but before he could get off the shot, a javelin flew from the sky and impaled the would be hero through his stomach, killing him near instantly. Donovan heard Reagan’s voice call out “DON. Above you!” he snapped his head up to see a winged devil dive bombing him, choosing to jump out of the way rather than try to block the hit at such high speeds. He rolled to his feet and spun around with his shield and sword in a defensive stance.

“Reagan! Doogan! Do everything you can to protect Kendal.” Then shifting his attention to the handful of guards around them, he noticed that most of the archers’ arrows were barely even sticking into the heavy skin of the monsters attacking them, and that the soldiers were all spreading themselves too thing, none of them seemed to have faced any real dangers before. He’d have to take command of the situation. “ALL ARCHERS FORM UP AND AIM FOR THEIR WINGS! THE REST OF YOU FOCUS ON KEEPING THOSE GARGS OFF OF THEM!” One of the archers seemed to heed his advice and nailed a gargoyle’s wing, the arrow piercing through the thinner membrane. It immediately it tried to dive at him, its flight much less steady than before, but before the poor archer was decimated, another guard in heavy armor with a large shield had leapt into the line of attack and protected his fellow, the armor doing some good to deflect the damage. It seemed that some of these guards had heard Don’s commands. Though whether it would be enough remained to be seen.

[Perun]

The Giant loosed his arrow before Donovan had finished giving him the call. It flew through the air fast, with a noise that Perun may have imagined in his head to be able to hear it over the rabble of battle. The arrow pierced the wing of the horrid creature just below where it seemed to sprout off of its shoulder. "YEBLAT!" He did not imagine the noise then. As more of the ugly creatures shrieked and fluttered on their wings above his head, Perun reached into his quiver and pulled another arrow, this one broad and heavy at the head. He set it to the string, and pulled back as far as he could, his massive shoulders twisting as his elbow went back, and the tension in the string was only matched by that in his back.

Before him, the Gargoyle who'd taken his and another archer's arrow now struggled to fly, it only being able to raise up the ground but not seem to cover any great distance. Perun took aim, and let out a long breath. The arrow flew, and pierced through the grotesque beast through its sinewy throat. From the cover of the little men with spears and swords and shields, he watched in silence as the massive thing clawed at its neck, the hole through which the arrow stuck spilling a vile blood onto its claw like hands. It fell to the ground, having been pierced through one of the small windows Perun had seen that wasn't well protected, and Perun watched the monster die. Even after so long, he usually felt something to watch a man he killed die slow, fear if not a bit of pity. Fear of what his hands were capable of, and pity that any life had to be taken away from someone who could just as easily have been Perun's ally. However, watching the Gargoyle die, Perun felt nothing.

Setting another arrow to his string, the giant Ilian took a scope of the sky, and watching as the Gargoyles swooped and destroyed the town, he saw one flying straight toward the group. Straight toward Donovan. He took aim at it, and yelled, "Duno-van, looking out! On right!" He loosed, and the beast rolled in the air without delaying his course, and dodged Perun's arrow. The orange man reached for another missle.

[Ilheod]

With the first pass completing, the battle soon broke out further within the skies. Thanks to the mask of gargoyle bone wound around his nose and lower jaw, Ilheod could keep his breathing remarkably steady despite the air currents rushing past him. He was able to weave and swoop and spin as he moved through the winged fiends and wove a swath through the sky; the entire wyvern unit now racing over roof-tops and littering the sky as they tried to bring the creatures down. With his single unobscured eye darting to the sides, he was able to notice bowmen now managing to muster their courage and find their way through the trouble. That was good. He could only hope they'd have enough sense not to fire on his lads or himself. As the aging Wyvern Lord leaned down and pressed his upper torso to the back of Astraeus' neck firmly, he hooked his silver infused lance forwards; sweeping it while guiding Astraeus into a slant so that he wouldn't inadvertently harm his comrades wings.

A thick splash of murky blood burst from the winged fiend that was trying to dart past to harass another unit of land-locked soldiers. Ilheod felt the rough resistance, and in the instant he did, acted on instinct. His other arm moved off the reigns as he clasped it firmly with both hands and ripped the spear through the entirety of the monster's neck, severing it's head after a brief struggle in-which it wailed furiously before being muted into gurgling sputters and then silence. The Devil Slayer felt a slight throb within the muscles of his right arm as he swung it to clear the blood from it; headless corpse and gargoyle head tumbling downwards to land in the streets.

He darted downwards as another gargyole dived. There was a group of soldiers struggling, and though it seemed someone was trying to rally them; it seemed that multiple gargoyles were trying to take advantage of the chaos. Even as the creatures fluttered and flew about, the shadow of the colossal wyvern above cast upon them was enough to draw ones notice. Astraeus's wings shut together as Ilheod guided him into a sharp dive. Their descent increased in moments as they raced down to one of the faltering creatures. The gargoyle hardly had the times to extend it's wings to break off its course before Ilheod had plunged his spear into it's lower ribs. Harsh shaking and flailing as the creature clasped at the spear puncturing through its belly met unyielding grip with both hands forcing the skewered creature downwards until his spear began to meet harsher resistance.

Solid bone. Even with the fabled silver ore in his weapon which seemed to genuinely cause greater agony and suffering to monsters, gargoyle bone was remarkably hard. Like armored innards. His spear didn't puncture it entirely, but this caused it to be directly guided by all their force and momentum as the monstrous midnight blue wyvern crashed down into the streets with a thundering rumble. Smoke kicked up, Only to clear as Astraeus' wings flapped twice. Ilheod was now standing atop the wyverns right shoulder as he continued to drive his spear further into the injured creature. It was pinned to the ground.

[Donovan]

Donovan spun to his right as the Giant called out to him.The arrow Perun loosed forced the attacking gargoyle to roll out of the way, still maintaining it’s intense speed but its direction now slightly off course. The silver tongued mercenary’s left foot slid back, moving his body out of impalement range and grounding himself in a deep stance. He focused his energy on creating a violent vortex along the edge of Fragarach’s blade, and swung at the passing demon. He tore through the thin membrane of the gargoyle’s wing and the creature spun out in the air, before falling with a loud thud onto the ground. It tried to take flight once more, but the damage to its right wing was too severe. Its gave an earsplitting screech, before charging forward with it’s rusty spear aimed to run Donovan through the stomach.

The mercenary shifted into a defensive stance, his sword balanced over his shield, and prepared for the assault. A pair of thuds sounded in front of him, and the Gargoyle stumbled. Kendal and one of the town’s archers had fired at the grounded creature. Both hitting it in the left leg, one in the calf, the other in the thigh. Seeing an opening, Donovan sprinted toward it at top speed. The beast recovered in time to send an unsteady attack toward the mercenary, who quickly batted it away with his shield, and flashed Fragarach in two quick blows. The first cut straight across it’s chest, causing it to ooze black blood, and the second strike sank into its spear arm. To the mercenary’s surprise, the sword was unable to cut through the gargoyle’s arm completely, stopped by the incredibly hard bone. The gargoyle’s grip on the lance slipped and the weapon fell to the ground, but before Donovan could pull Fragarach out of it’s arm, the monster’s other hand punched him in the chest and knocked him clean off of his feet.

[Perun]

Donovan had managed to avoid the Gargoyle for the most part, only taking a closed fist rather than a spear point, which was good. Spear points had a bad habit of puncturing skin and doing lasting damage whereas fists would usually just leave a bruise. Usually, but as Donovan was sent back from the fist, Perun saw the strength behind every blow the winged creatures would be throwing that day. Not moments after Donovan was tossed away did Perun have another arrow on his string. He aimed it with no hesitation, and let the arrow fly. The missile pierced the ugly thing just above the collar bone, near the neck, but did not seem to go very far into the skin. The big man spit on the ground, and drew another arrow from his quiver, and set it to the bow just as quick. Spreading its arms and wings wide, the Gargoyle roared, looking Perun dead in the face, it's disgusting face like an animal he had never seen shaking with anger. The giant loosed again, and it took the big cursed creature in the stomach.

It actually took a step back as the arrow connected, and then tried to take a run at the Giant, but instead of reaching Perun it reached Dorril, the young swordsman appearing from nowhere and landing a thrust into the beast's side. The thing let out a horrid shriek, and tried to claw at Dorril who narrowly rolled away from its vivacious claws. With a speed unlike any he'd shown Perun before Dorril rose and took the sword out of the Gargoyle's side, black blood dripping from the wound and now covering the young man's sword. Dorril had to leap to his left to avoid being caught with a hard strike from the beast's beating wings. Perun set another arrow to his string, and took aim. Before he could fire, Dorril got too close once more, and this time jumped inside the range of one of the beast's claws, but drove his sword hard through the Gargoyle's stomach right next to the wound made by Perun's arrow. With another shriek, the beast seemed to halfheartedly claw at the young man's back, but it did no real damage as the life slipped out of it. Dorril, now drenched in the vile blood of the gargoyle, hurried back to stand next to Tristram and defend Janum from the descending demons.

Perun hurried away from cover, and gripped Donovan's forearm. In one solid pull, he lifted his silver-tongued friend off his back and onto his feet. Quickly taking his arrow back to the proper spot and moving back towards the others he asked, "Are you being alright Duno-ven?"

[Ilheod]

They were starting to rally effectively. Between the efforts of the orange haired giant, dark haired mercenary, and the commander in the outer ring of the city the guard were finally managing to repel them. As the wyvern riders dove in and out of the skies, they began to form a singular tactic. Moving the winged beasts lower and lower into "kill zones" for the town guard. Though the gargoyles were slow to kill, each one definitively thinned out the horde. It was not however..over quiet yet..


---

It flew through the skies with slightly greater speed than its lesser cousins. Heavy wings brought it further as it darted in and out of the hail of arrows. Despite the large darker wings proving a greater size than it's lesser, it was several times more difficult to hit. It's eyes honed in on what appeared to be the leader of these flying humans, while a gutteral snarl left hooked beak; racing downwards before feeling the dull thud of an arrow shake its side. The alpha hovered briefly, before noticing one of the bowmen falter. This was clearly the prey that'd willingly offered itself to the voidsent. A clawed hand grasped for the pouch at its hip, as it lifted its hand, and in a quiet short gesture belted forth a thin yet powerfully forged spear. The weapon whistled through the air before the sudden puncture of his armor rang out as the weapon sank into the bowmens chest.

Whilst he fell from the roof, the creature flew downwards before catching it's wings upon the wind and raising them like a drag-chute at the last moment to slow its descent enough to avoid personal injury. A clawed hand found the back of the armored males neck, and it hissed with glee.

---

Ilheod had been standing atop Astraeus with his silver spear still piercing the monster. He worked it twice, before ripping it out once more as the patter of blood dotted the stone. He had little warning though, having just heard the sound of someone being skewered before he felt a jaring force grip the back of his neck.

"What in the hells!? Gahh-"

He was launched forwards and felt the straps that usually kept him tightly fastened unbuckle. They'd likely come lose in his previous aerial maneuver. He roughly impacted the ground, feeling the concussive force jar him as his head was pressed into the stone roadway. His vision blurred as he instinctively struggled. The creatures foul nails found the armored shell of its kin too fierce to easily puncture, but the crushing vice like force on his neck kept him pinned as the wyvern lord struggled upwards. He snarled, fighting back as best he could as he heard the skull-splitting shriek of Astraeus ring out.

A wyvern rider was not the only threat one faced, when fighting them. The creature's large wings unfolded as Astraeus hissed with an intense distaste. His lowered head sank forwards to snap at the monster, forcing it to move backwards while it maintained its grip upon the wyvern commander. Ilheod struggled, one hand firmly clutching at the back of the creatures hand which pinned him down, buckling his knee beneath him and launching upawrds to try and root it off track. Just barely managing to throw it off balance; Ilheod gripped his silver spear and rolled backwards. The colossal gargoyle spread its own wings and wailed out a ghostly challenge before flapping twice and racing upwards only to come soaring back in.

The gargoyles seemed to fight with renewed vigor as the large one shouted out. Like a rallying cry. Round two was only just beginning.

[Donovan]

Don landed with a thud and saw Perun and his… squire slay the gargoyle. Fragarach was still lodged firmly in the dead fiend’s arm. As Perun helped pull him to his feet, Don nodded his head “Yeah, I’m fine. Those things just have more punch to them than I thought, I guess. I’m going to have to start using Frag’s range more.” He rushed over to his sword and went to yank it out of the creature’s body, but found it wouldn’t budge. “Damnit. This hasn’t happened since Laus. I don’t need this sh*t right now.” His mind reached out to Frag and a burst of razor sharp wind expelled from the sword, rending the flesh around the blade and allowing him to pull it away easily. Observing the battlefield, it seemed as if they had managed to turn the tide. The wyvern riders who had appeared not long after the Gargoyles were driving the sky devils lower and into the range of the soldiers and archers. The town guard had seemed to adapt Donovan’s formation, creating a duo of guards around each archer. The archers focused on shooting the wings of the gargoyles, forcing them to land and fight the melee fighters.

A terrible shrill cry ripped through the air and sent a trickle of dread and fear into Don’s heart. He turned to see a man wearing the corpse of a gargoyle with a large silver spear in his hand. For a moment, Donovan thought that the cry had come from this stranger, but when he looked to the sky he saw a gargoyle, bigger than the others, who could only be the Alpha of this nest. The silver tongued mercenary suddenly realized who was about to be run through by that monstrous bat. The sudden appearance of the wyvern unit, the armor…

The silver tongued mercenary focused his energy into Fragarach. He’d grown accustomed to the basic, almost constant pull at his conscious that allowed the blade to turn away attacks with such ease. But accessing the power needed to launch an actual ranged attack still felt vaguely foreign, like he could feel a cold breeze traveling through his core and taking a piece of him with it as it left. He waited and drew his energy into Fragarach, the blade swelling a whelming sense of bravery and confidence into his system. The ancient blade was vibrating and pulsing an eery green glow. NOW! Don swung upward and he unleashed the blast of wind at the sky devil. He focused on a pure, brute force attack, not sure if the wind would have been sharp enough to cause serious damage to the beast. The Gargoyle, fully unawares of another threat in it’s path was hit heavily by the powerful wind and crashed into the building it was passing before landing on the ground with a heavy thud. “Don’t worry, Devilslayer! You’re not in this fight alone.” The creature stumbled back to its feet, seeming more frustrated that its attack was disrupted than actually injured. “Alright, Perun. Let’s get to work.”

[Perun]

A shriek pierced the ears of every being within range with a far fiercer point than any arrow that flew through the sky. It was so vile a sound that Perun lowered his bow and left himself open for long enough to find the source. It was a gargoyle that was to the vile winged creatures what Perun was to the soft narrow men of the average stock. The thing was massive, like a stone that could turn a river. Perun became aware at the same time of another flier in the sky, a man in armor that looked the same as the skin of the ugly beasts, but he flew with one of the big winged companions of the Mountain country Bern. He flew back into combat against the flying monstrosities, and Perun recalled that was what he was meant to be doing.

With vision like a hawk, Perun watched the movements of the wyverns. Their flight was drastically different from that of a gargoyle, there was a brutal grace that was absent in the monsters. The man of the Hrun took note of each specific pattern, then turned to the darkness. A shape moved, a shadow against deep blue of the night sky. At fifteen meters away he saw a flicker of movement followed by another and then another. He nocked an arrow but didn't take aim. Unless he was wrong, the movements were that of a Wyvern. Then another series of flickers came through the night.

The giant of the icy north now took aim and waited. In his peripheral vision, he took note that Janum had taken aim as well, in the precise opposite direction as Perun. The shadow in the sky that Perun could barely make out a moment before came out of the blackness, and flew straight toward the compact conglomerate of fighters. The powerful hands of the great bear let go of the arrow and let it sail whistling through the air. The missile took the fiend in the shoulder, but did not slow its onset. Another arrow from the quiver, an arrow to his bowstring, and a tensing of his thick shoulders, and Perun was able to loose again, missing the gargoyle after it spun away from the spinning point. The creature flew over the heads of all in the assembly and let a spear descend harshly into their midst, taking a guardsman through the back. Perun cursed, "Yeblat!"

However, he could not bask in his failure as Donovan told Perun that they needed to seek employment. The orange giant spun on his heels as he nocked another arrow. He aimed and drew back in the length of a single breath, then let the arrow fly. It took the disgusting wretch through the nipple, and it let out a shriek that was a pale reflection of its larger cousin. The man of the frosty north considered taking his axe from his belt and go mix it up with the beast of tough hide, but he knew that his bow would make him far more useful in the current conflict. Gritting his teeth, the giant nocked an arrow. "Duno-ven, Perun hes been being work for while."

[Ilheod]

Ilheod felt the strain of constant aerial combat combined with his previous struggles starting to add up. His bones were a bit more sore than he'd have liked to admit. The fire within however kept him going, and as Astraeus moved to his side once the wind infused strike distracted the fiend, he was quick to find himself back within the fray. Even as the Colossal winged monster flew down towards them, Ilheod snarled and thrust his spear forwards while pivoting his body. A cruel twisted spear thrust right past him, nearly impaling him but roughly impacting the ground as he stepped out of harms way and plunged his silver spear forwards. The spray of murky inky blood trailed downwards while his weapon broke through tough resilient bone. It was by no means an easy feat, and the jarring resistance fought against him each way. The creature shrieked in agony as the silver infused weapon branded unto it's very soul with purification.

Ilheod twisted the weapon as he sank it further, feeling clawed hands flail as the fiend frantically griped at Ilheod's shoulders. The monsters sharp lengthy beak like maw opened as it snapped at his left shoulder. Unwilling to shy away even while the monsters foul jaw snapped into his armored skull-made-pauldron, Ilheod lunged forwards and crashed his own armored head into the creatures side, head-butting it with all the force he could muster. He felt the weight of it's body upon his spear shift, while disorienting him as he fought viciously to maintain grip of his weapon.

The flapping of wings as the creature managed to break away, gaining distance and taking to the skies, alerted Ilheod as he struggled to rise from a nearly crouching poise. He shifted his weight onto his weapon and propped the butt of the spear against the ground while furiously shifting right with as much gusto as a drunken patron trying to walk to a stall within any of Elibe's taverns. Though bruised, his shoulder was still un-broken by the attempted assault, the gargoyle skull infused atop his shoulder plates as armor having served its purpose remarkably.

Ilheod had lost track of the fiend however, amidst the darkened skies and blurs of motion. He pivoted and whistled for Astraeus, only to find his gaze squarely resting on the fiend while it lifted its hand. A spear in grip, and thrown directly towards him. The best he could manage, as his heart raced and time seemed to slow, was lunging to the right once more. The wet crunching sound, followed seconds later by a metallic ring as his armor was punctured, hadn't registered within him as he felt the heavy thud of impact nearly knock him on his back. He instinctively looked downwards as he skid from the force of the blow, the spear unable to fully puncture him as it met resistance against what he hoped was nothing vital.

He braced himself and firmly gripped his spear as he furiously panted, each breath wild and deep as the burning pain set in. His snarl of pain and rage was emphasized within as a swirling mix of memories and emotions burst out. Every second passing far slower, and information flooding him...

The sight of men falling from the sky at the city of heroes. The winged fiends dropping defenders while the nightwings tried their best. The sound of collision when they had charged into them en-mass. He remembered the town within north eastern Bern, that the fiends had ransacked. Then he recalled it. His most painful memory to date.

William. The lad fighting valiantly, and proving himself in bout after bout against the winged fiends. That expression of confidence, turned to shock, as his visage briefly took a purple cast from the burning cruel magic orb that Hargus had launched towards them....before he vanished in an instant. Dead with a horrific blast that left his remains as unrecognizable pulp. That brand of pain, and the fury that it led to, burned more intensely within his chest than any physical wound.

Ilheod lifted his head, as a small trail of blood trickled down the corner of his mouth. Internal hemorrhaging would not stop him. Perhaps the creature had thought this would end him? It looked on at him, as Ilheod let out a bellowing shout of frustration and rage. He needed that, that fire in his veins and the exertive force of the shout; for his left hand pressed to the point of the spear just before it entered him, and he leaned down to kick against the wooden shaft with all his might as it pressed it to the ground before him.

"GWUUUAAAAHHHHH!"

The cracking of wood popped out, and he snapped the spear before gripping it with his other hand, breaking the rest so that the tip and a few inches of the shaft were left within his body to prevent him from bleeding out entirely. The wyvern commander lifted his weapon once more, in both hands, and started moving towards Astraeus. The pain of each step was briefly staved off, by no doubt a combination of shock and adrenaline. His left arm firmly gripping the reigns of his mount even while he climbed up; only for the colossal wyvern to shriek in equal fury, a wailing that every other wyvern responded to.

Ilheod found himself in the saddle less than a second before he was in striking range, sweeping his spear in an arc at the large golye while tucking his knees to lock himself against Astraeus and steer him into an Aeleron roll. Two other riders came racing in as the wyverns grouped to Ilheod, the scent of blood and Astraeus' shriek enough to inform them of their commanders wound, and its severity. The monstrous gargoyle was left to defend itself by dodging the multiple strikes; Ilheod circling around before climbing higher and racing down atop Astraeus like a meteor. Seconds later...

A crashing impact.

Astraeus fought to keep atop the monster would Ilheod further pressed his spear against its upper chest. The monster was helpless beneath the weight of the wyvern and flailed as they plummeted rapidly. The thunderous impact was met with a brief kick of dirt and dust before Astraeus hopped back; wing-beats clearing the visible blockage only for Ilheod to hop up and go running furiously atop his wyvern before leaping off. He took to the skies in his own way, jumping high off Astraeus from just above his head and raising his spear over-head. His bellow was filled with every mixture of emotion. For every ounce of agony, an enraged fury was present to drown it out. The creature, still in shock from it's second grievous blow of the silver spear, was unable to move in time as Ilheod came down upon it. The sickening crunch of its skull as he plunged his spear through it followed by the quiet splatter of its brain-matter and gore upon the cobbled streets.

The large winged leader of the others, lay dead. Ilheod stood above it, panting, with his spear resting in it's spasming corpse. The trail of blood along his own expression had grown. Crimson trailing down his chin, beneath his mask, and small trails like a trickle of leaking water ran along the spear still protruding from his body; falling from around his wound as well. He shifted weight upon his spear and leaned on Astraeus to catch his breath. They weren't done yet..and neither was he.

[Donovan]

The silver tongued mercenary sprinted off toward the Bernese rider, he could see that fiend would be no easy task to take on alone. Feeling Fragarach draw from his energy, Don prepared for another strike, this time he would aim to lacerate the membrane in the gargoyle’s wings. As he lifted the ancient blade to strike, however, a gargoyle with an arrow through the nipple crashed onto the ground before him. Thinking quickly, Don released the blast of air at the ground in front of his feet while jumping, narrowly avoiding a backhanded fist from the sky devil. The silver tongued mercenary propelled backward through the air, away from the creature, landing with a definitive lack of grace, rolling off of his back and into a defensive stance.

The battle seemed to be winding down, though not exactly over. The guard were certainly fewer in number than they had been, but they had stuck together and followed Don’s orders, so they were far from routed. Kendal, Doogan, and Reagan were making efficient work of a wounded Gargoyle, surrounding the creature and their combined attacks whittling away at it. All in all, the battle seemed to have fallen to a simple matter of clean up. And the alpha that the Devil Slayer was facing alone.

Donovan feinted a charge forward, preparing for another heavy strike with Fragarach. The gargoyle took wing and dove, its lance aimed for the mercenary’s heart. Don stopped on a dime before slashing horizontally, releasing a razor sharp gust of wind that shredded a large portion of the Gargoyle’s wings and left a laceration in it’s chest. Though it did not seem to cause much damage at all to the absurdly hard bone beneath. The Winged Devil spun out of control having gone too fast, and Don threw himself to avoid it. He pulled himself to his feet and looked around for his Giant. Together this creature was no match.

[Perun]

The orange giant continued his flow of nock and release, trying to take out the remaining gargoyles in the sky. They seemed to have been scattered, their chaotic flight pattern somehow more anarchic than ever. It was odd, but it made picking his shot somehow harder. When there was some organization, the beasts had been predictable, guessing where they were going, when they would strike was easier. Now, he didn't know how to lead them or even which of them was going to come for their circle. However, they also weren't doing quite as much damage, and it was easier to overwhelm them.

As the chaotic battle became ever more so, Perun pulled Tristram up off the ground when the former bard slipped. Scanning the field he noticed the tangle his friend had found himself in. It was decision time, the bow or the axe. He chose the axe. He stuck his bow into the back of his belt, and slipped his axe from his belt. As Donovan went to the ground and the beast seemed to reel away. Without a thought, the man of the frozen north sprinted past his comrade who was now rising, barreling straight for the vile winged creature.

The thing was massive up close, far bigger on the ground than spinning and wheeling in the sky. He had taken the beast once with an arrow, now he simply needed to do it again with the axe. He wrapped both hands around the haft of his weapon, and got in close with the beast in a matter of seconds, batting away an attack from the thing with a ferocious roar. Then getting in close, he drove his axe into the thing's trap muscle, letting the axe bite down deep. The thing was strong, and the two began to spin and make their way across the battlefield in a maelstrom of fury. That was until the gargoyle managed to pry the axe from his shoulder and throw it to the ground. Perun quickly tore the arrow out of the thing's breast and dove the arrowhead into the neck four times. The life went out of the things as it clawed at his back, causing massive gashes to appear and the vest to go to tatters.

Picking his axe up of the ground, Perun hurried over to Donovan. He took up a position beside him, and roared again at the sky, hoping to be answered with the demon's shriek.