Siege on the City of Heroes - South, Part 2(EVENT)

[Mana]

After learning what was happening at the south, Mana left her post in the west and rushed to aid the south wall defenders. Not a soldier and barely had war experience, she lacked discipline to follow the order obediently. Although sometimes someone needed to make decision to not follow order, it usually only ended well if their actions helped the army. The Sacaen girl didn't give it much thought, Richter or Kenshin could get mad to her later if they wanted to but she believed she needed to go to where the fighting was the hardest.

Staying on the backline as she observed the situation. Mana was met by some surprises.

The situation there was not just chaotic but also confusing. Monsters, bandits, pirates, and Sacaens were locked into a bloody battle. What the hell? Did those ruffians lose their mind? Why did they turn on their master? Mana didn't like this. The bandits might be helping the defenders for whatever reason but that didn't mean they were allies, at least not her allies. Glaring full of hate, the swordswoman told to herself to cut down any bandits standing on he way to the cyclops, allies or not. Suddenly, Mana's train of thought was disturbed by a powerful blast that obliterated the wall, the people, and anything it hit. Something looked massive ball was dropped from nowhere and the result was destruction and many death. It seemed everyone here was forced to learn the hard way that Hargus wasn't simply a powerful bandit but also possessed some lost magic as well .This was beyond what she expected. Although still posing brave, fear started to seep into the girls' heart.

As fast as ever, Mana was one of the first defenders who rushed to the gap opened by the blast. Her expression turned into frustration and anger as she run past those who fleeing. "Coward! You call yourself man??? You call yourself Sacaens??? Stand and fight! Yeah, run and let these creatures slaghter you later OR fight and win now!!!" A few zombies tried to enter through the gap but they were quickly cut down by Mana's sword, Falcatta. Brave but bold and risky, the girl was determined not to let a single undeads get past her. Although she didn't even look behind, she was hoping some people would find courage to stand beside her.

Mana roared as she charged toward the two zombies that walked ahead Hargus's forces. Those slow and souless creatures tried to grab the black-haired girl but their dull movement failed to catch up to the speed of her swing. Falcatta cut their heads in rapid succession, almost without delay between the swings. The headless bodies slowly fell as their killer moved to find another opponent.

However, the gap was too big for her to guard alone. Mana was eventually pushed back by their superior number despite her struggle.

[Richter Abend]

Richter's spirits soared skyward as the cyclops was brought to its knee amidst a crowd of its own allies by a well-placed firepot. It was just a single blow, but the sight of such a great beast brought down low created a feeling that surged in Richter's breast as he continued running towards the wall. It was the feeling that they could actually win this. But his spirits would plummet just as quickly as the demon that sat atop the warbeast's shoulder annhilated the siege engine that had flung the offending missile with a wave of his arm, before crushing a massive, gaping hole into the city's final defenses. Such power! For just a second it had seemed like they had almost turned the tide, but now they were being routed through a hole of crushed morale through their own defenses! The battle had turned so suddenly that Richter couldn't help but think that they had never been winning in the first place. Demons and monsters alike would be swarming all over the city in a matter of minutes if this flow was not stemmed.

"Damn!" shouted Richter as he halted his own retreat and spun about face to stare down a recovering cyclops. The men back at the wall needed a commander, but hopefully someone else would fill that role. He was needed here more. If the Winter Lion was to die this day, it would not be with his back turned. Most of the Sacaens kept running, the fear of god burned into their hearts by the demonstration of Hargus's awesome power, but the unlikely swordsman or archer followed in Richter's footsteps, the little hope they had still tied to the sight of their commander. After all, what chance did they have? If they could not end this beast, it wouldn't matter how far into the city they fled. This man in red had helped them get this far, perhaps he could help them again. But Richter, for all the adrenaline flowing through his veins, could not see an end to this that was in anyway good. Boreas's power was grea, but not strong enough to take on this cyclops alone, and Damonzahn was worse than useless against denizens of the nether. He needed...

"Commander!"

Richter's head swivled to see a white haired young man approaching him brandishing a silver sword. The Ilian thought he recongnized the soldier, but there was no name he could tie to the face. That aside, it only took seconds for the swordsman to begin telling Richter of how he was planning on hamstringing the beast. It was an ambitious plan to say the least. A silly one. But it was something.

"The whole leg!?" Richter barked back incredulously, stealing a quick glance towards the monster's treetrunk like legs before looking back at the younger man. In a more sane battle the commander would have questioned the swordsman's sanity, but this battle was insane, so right now Richter would throw anything he could at this slowly advancing disaster. "You know what? No, I don't care, do what you can!" The pink haired Illian brushed some loose hair out of his face then tightened his grip around Boreas's shaft. "I'll do what I can to keep that thing distracted and away from the wall. If you can find a way to its legs, take the shot!" With a shout of command, Richter charged the beast, cutting down the unlucky zombies that stumbled into his way. Likewise, the men that had decided to stand with him to the end followed him in.

"FORWARD!" howled the Winter Lion as he lunged into battle with a mighty swing of his axe, loosing a shower of ice into the cyclops.

[Elias]

A... cyclopes. Lovely. That wasn't sarcasm, it was lovely. He'd love to study it. Y'know, if it wasn't completely massacring and killing absolutely everyone and thing in sight. They fired volley after volley of arrows against it, but it was little use. What use could it be? A cyclopes, their skin is as tough as iron itself, sturdier then even the thickest plate mail. It was grotesque, actually that word didn't quite describe it to be honest. Horrific? Abominable? There had to be a word, but Elias didn't know it. He had to put that morbidly fascinated part of him away for now, the loss of life was far too severe to even entertain such thoughts and ideas. He's never heard of a cyclopes appearing in Elibe, much less did he ever imagine seeing one with his own eyes, but now was scarcely the time to be flabbergasted and in awe. The men fought, they fought so damn hard, it hurt his heart to see the despair in their eyes when they saw the beast. They thought of it unstoppable, a monster beyond compare, in a way they were right. It was a monster beyond compare, but it was stoppable. It wasn't easy, but it was a thing. A living. All things can die, you just need to find the right way.

He had wished to be on the front lines, but he was necessary back here. He healed, mended, soothed the soldiers. Bloody and broken, he brought to them a spark of life. He had no time to use his magic to fight, to kill, he needed to save lives. There were too many though, just too damn many. Every person he healed was replaced with five, their bodies broken and bloody and beyond repair. The gargoyles continued to swarm overhead, vultures by any other name, as Hargus wielded... forbidden magics. He knew Elder magic, this was NOT elder magic. This was something... more. Something beyond the scope of any shaman, maybe it was the will of the Nether itself, but it wasn't the restrained controlled contracts between caster and the beyond. The was unbridled, uncontrolled, untethered, and near unstoppable. This was the source, the darkness, this wasn't elder magic. This dark magic, plain and simple. Hargus was... He was doing things, things he shouldn't. He was making a deal he couldn't possibly keep. He explained this to Richter, to use dark magic you had to give up a part of yourself. Something small, something you will get back over time, it's like cutting hair. Trim the edges, and it'll grow back, but the further down you go the longer it will take and eventually... you're just beheading yourself.

He didn't know what this magic was, but he did know there was no way a mere mortal could possibly wield it. To do so would lose your mind, your self, your soul, your essence. Hargus was not human. Not anymore. A part of him found it fascinating, but another much louder part just wanted to kill him.

He shut his eyes tightly, taking in a deep breath. Letting it out slowly, the world around him awash with death and chaos. His clothes stained red with the blood those he was healing, the light of life ebbing from this man he could not help. A bristling feeling washed over him as his eyes snapped open, his cloak violently flailing in the wind and a pure explosion of darkness erupted at the wall besides him. He wasn't even close, but the power was so immense that even he could feel it. In his bones, in his soul, it ached him inside. The spirits of anima and nature fled in terror, cowering at this unrestrained eruption of nether.

As the explosion died and he slowly looked over. It was gone. The wall, the soldiers, the monsters, everything. Just dust, as if it never existed to begin with. Swallowed, devoured by forces that did not belong. Just gone. It was so sudden, it was hard to even wrap his mind around. His hand balled into a fist, he took no pleasure in war. Violence was a part of life, as was pain and death. He did his best to try and stem the tide, help those who need it. Learn knowledge that can aid others and prevent disaster, it was unfortunate but it didn't make him mad. It was just nature, nature they sometimes didn't understand, but a part of the world all the same. Be it monsters, or human greed. But this! So senseless! Unnatural! He twisted magic like it was some kind of ball of yarn, batting it around like a mewling kitten! The was no cause! No reason! Nothing to understand!

Almost as if Matrona understood, felt his anger, fury. A rare emotion for Elias. Melancholy happens, even for him. Depression, happiness, embarrassment, it all happens. However has NEVER been this ANGRY before.

There was no more wall barring his sight as he held up his staff his entire body shifting in time and space, relocating him much closer near the frontlines. He saw a few people fighting this beast, and damn it he wasn't going to hide away while this monster riding a cyclopes just did whatever he wanted! Whatever interested he had in this magic vanished like a wisp, and was replaced with sheer vitriol and bile. He remembered that man, headband. He fought, against all odds. He wouldn't let someone die right in front of him! Not again! "Matrona!" He shouted, holding up his staff. "You feel it too right?" He asked the staff as it glowed with a strange new power. "HEADBAND! TAKE THIS!" He shouted once more, thrusting the staff in the air, it unleashed burst of energy, power, flowing and ebbing from him and into the white haired youth. Great power and strength, and speed beyond his natural ability would flow into his body and fill him with vigor. Hopefully the boost he needs to pull off whatever crazy maneuver he had planned.

[Vincent]

Vincent had the commander's attention to his surprise. "The whole leg!?" hearing it said back did make it sound ridiculously foolish. The mere notion of it? absurd. But then something strange happened. He listened. He did not sound confident but he listened and... even agreed to such a plan. He agreed!... but now the battle tactic was all on Vincent's shoulders. The weight of this reality was staggering. This is the moments that the legends of heroes are born of. He did not particularly savor it. As the plan was decided all he could do was agree. "Aye Commander!"

Vincent clenched his blades tightly. "Okay... we fight till the end. We will bring that demon down. We will drag him to the hell he has made of this city. Give me strength!" The sword reacted to his will, his every desire. All of his struggles and battles would culminate here. His experience, his sorrow, his joys. He would win this battle or all would perish. True or not, it was what he had to believe.

He saw it then. A swirling blue energy. It formed from his blade peeling away the darkness encasing the metal but beneath was not gold like when James had wielded it. This time it was pure silver. A shining light upon the dark battlefield. Was it the blade? His own will? No... this was an outside force. He could feel it.

All the hopes of others, their dreams, their fears. All was placed upon him now. A red light. Elias. He felt strength and power unlike any a mortal man naturally could. With a soft exhale he was ready. He rushed into the fray at an inhuman speed. Flying by his opponents he slashed them down with silver blades and continued moving. Richter and all the others were slowing the giant and he would not let them down.

Getting close to the giant he swung at the leg but was forced to quickly retreat as a lumbering arm swung nearly striking him. Moving in again he ducked under an arm swinging with Phoenix Claw. The blade pierced the arm of the creature but it snapped in two finally meeting its end. A most faithful sword.

But he refused to quit. Dodging another blow he had his opening. "THIS ENDS NOW!!!" He cried using all the power he was given into this one decisive blow. Power so great was bestowed upon him it visibly swirled. The blade connected and rended flesh and bone nearly halting partway through. "YOU'RE JOINING US IN THIS HELL!!!" All his rage, all his compassion, all his sorrow. All of it was placed into this attack. The attack gained more power and soon the blade came through the other side of the beast's leg. Before more could happen he quickly pulled back into the throng of soldiers.

[Oya]

On the battlefield their was always a risk of death, but at the moment Oya felt closer to it than ever. With his assault group Oya was able to push through the horde of undead and cut a path to his target the Cyclopse, but the closer he got the more and more fear that began to build up in his heart. The thing was massive, how was he suppose to take that thing down. He knew Xigshaw was powerful, but still. What was his little, in comparison to the monster, hammer was going to do to that behemoth of a monster.

Suddenly a pulsation began to vibrate in Oya's right hand. It was Xigshaw. The weapon called for him to steel his heart and press forward. Xigshaw was all about glory and Oya using him to take down a cyclopes would be the ultimate badge for the Holy Axe of Faresh. Xigshaw was excited at the opportunity, no it needed the challenge. The hammer was not going to let its wielder back out from fear. Either Oya would press forward and face the monster or it would take its strength and bestow itself upon somebody new.

"Well it looked like Xigshaw has decided for me", spoke Oya out loud as he brought his hammer down upon a undead's head. Pressing forward with his men the pirate and his group reached their target. It seemed that they were not the only ones looking to take down the beast. The commander of the saceans was also fighting against the monster. With a swing of his mighty axe a roar of ice lunched forward slamming into the beast. This provided a well needed distraction as Oya charged forward to attack the monsters legs. The other bandits that formed his guard unit began to attack the beast from range. Their target was the eye and Hargus himself. They wanted to hold both beast attention so Oya could do his work. However their seemed to be somebody else attacking the legs of the beast. It was a young boy, Oya was sure he had seen from somewhere, but at the moment it did not matter. Why the heat was not on him Oya pulled back on Xigshaw to make his assault.

"An eye for a eye and a tooth for a tooth, and a bloody mess to all who stand in Nya's way", shouted Oya as he brought his mighty hammer down. With all the strength in Oya's body and the full magical might Xigshaw could muster the young warrior slammed the massive hammer into the beast body. The blow was so great that the earth around him shattered like glass from the strike.

[Dietrich Landrik]

The last of the firepots that Landrik and his shambled company had were in great effect against the large beast that quickly turned all of the military might of the living. The alit giant made a fantastic target marker for the catapults as one had found its mark with a large firepot that did much to stutter and damage the fiend. There was a sense of hope as the unending stream of arrows hit their target.

But it wasn't enough. The Demon King on his shoulder, he attained retribution on the lucky shot crew and their piece. There was fighting around Dietrich, but he could only watch as the Demon King turned and blinked a section of the wall into oblivion. Even the heaviest of artillery could not do that. He held the power of the Dragons of old, but it was not one of natural power. This was heinous. This was against everything that a man lived to protect. This was the quintessence of unholy might.

This sentiment of slaying the Demon was shared by not just Dietrich. Others poured from the gap of smoking wood, stone, and gore. Their courage and better yet their ability far surpassed the lone Marine and his motley crew of dust and blood covered pirates. Seeing the "Heroes" that the City was meant to harbor immediately rose within him a sense of great respect and admiration. He really did have a purpose. If it weren't to slay the Demon King, it was to slay his minions. This feeling of belonging pushed him upwards and onwards. His bruised and sore sword arm went back to work, cutting away at the wall of broken bodies forced from their will to carry out Hargus'.

Parrying an attack, Dietrich was forced to fall back. Those around him were an ever finer, yet thinning breed of warrior. They were now starting to attain the status of "survivor". A yank on his collar preventing him from stepping into the warpath of the Cyclops in which he had lost from his vision during the fighting. "Landrik! We need to fall back! The gate or hole in the wall will do, but let's go!" Berg had reemerged as he had lost track of him so much before. There was no time to thank his comrade for the rescue, but the two had managed to slip behind the cornerstone of the gate. It was the first bit of relative safety the two had embraced since they stepped out of their trenches towards the gate they now clung onto as earth-rippling combat endured outside. It felt like all of the elements erupted forth in this battle and the air was thick with not only smoke and the smell of blood, but a certain electricity. The Gods surely were watching their battle of fates.

With only a moment to collect his thoughts, Landrik immediately thought of Fuchs. Where was he? Was he still alive? Given the situation outside he knew the chances were slim, but he held hope.

Taking better account of Berg's situation, he saw he had been pretty well wounded and he still clung to a blood-spattered bow that had already shattered and he had used as a knife of sorts. The way it was clenched in his hands with nervous tension made his heart ache for his compatriot. He rest his free hand on Berg's shoulder as the stout man looked outward in anticipation for anything and everything that could go wrong with his tired eyes. "Here. Use my sword. I've got some knives and I actually know how to use the damn things. They need our help. If Fuchs is out there, he needs us too." Landrik urged his old friend along, asking what would usually be considered the impossible. Beyond the initial breaking point, it was amazing what humans could accomplish.

Racing over towards the huge hole in the wall, Landrik immediately took notice of warriors much more stronger than he, just like those who fought the one-eyed giant and the Demon King who stood on its shoulder. Keeping his distance from their artful attacks, the marine closed the visor on his helm and went to work once more with knives in his hands. If they got stuck in their host, he simply pulled for another - though he knew he would eventually run out. The battlefield was so full of strewn weapons of different calibers, usage, and strengths. What they lacked was manpower. Over his shoulder, Dietrich could see his comrade as he should have always been - swinging something heavy around and cleaving through armor and bone. It made him proud.

[Ilheod]

The Wyvern captain was admittedly starting to feel some fatigue. Each night had yielded less sleep as countless raids passed. Even for a time when he tried to swap shifts out for patrol and combat with the lads to ensure they all got their rest, he simply couldn't find any modicum of ease in slumber. With each passing day they had ventured into the fray, battling or providing information from above. An advantage to having their winged companions with them. The Middle-aged commander leaned wearily upon the scaled hide of his Midnight blue Wyvern, his own red armor plating scraping with soft metallic grating to the draconic armor upon the beast. Ilheod stood, with his spear propped partially in a manner that would allow it to support a fraction of his weight while he shifted the rest to his mount. He reached beneath the plates of armor to scratch at the wyvern's neck for a moment. Out of the entire small unit of Wyvern riders, the Wyvern Lord had opted for the most shifts. When Immen and Brom had been injured, he took up both men's shifts while healers saw to them. It was the duty of a captain. Pick up the excess weight.

He looked after his lads as if they were all part of one big family. What had he dragged them into? After the bandit raid on the village they had helped repel it seemed to cascade out of control. From one transfer of events to another, yet he knew that the others would have insisted just as he himself did as to their defense being just. Taking a moment to gaze to the side, ten of his riders were close by. Their faces reflected the same tired expression he had. War was never easy to endure. Though they were soldiers, most of them were still fairly young. They had killed their share of bandits defending villages along western Bern sure, but that didn't adjust them in advance for the sheer scale of an actual battle. Tens of men wounded and bleeding at any given moment. His trip to check on his two injured alone had seen him stepping over men who had lost limbs, or who would have never made it through the week were it not for healing magics. Ilheod had to keep their minds off it. It was bad for moral. The wyvern lord shifted his spear and slowly stood up as two more approached his small company. Two with Wyverns in tow, his two injured boys.

Ilheod slipped hims helm back on as they approached. A brief clapping as they snapped their feet together and rapped their knuckles to their chest-plates, which he returned, showed they were ready for more. Ilheod took no further moments to linger upon the despairs of war. He looked to them, and called out in a sudden and stern tone they had all become accustomed to responding to in haste. Even as he did so he lifted a leg over and adjusted himself into Astraeus's saddle with one hand securely upon his lance and the other grabbing the reigns to his Wyvern.

"Alright lads, mount up. This fight isn't over, and I'll be damned if we get remembered as the unit of layabouts."

Though they could have easily taken to the skies, he didn't intend to draw the unwanted barbs of any archers within the walls reach. Instead he guided Astraeus to leap to the top of one of the buildings, before looking outwards. Things had grown bad. The siege had taken a toll for the worst when he saw a sight that caused even the Wyvern rider to feel a souring expression creep upon his face. For as he had climbed upwards it was not the sight beyond the walls that gripped him with a slight chill up his spine. It was above. The winged monstrosities that had befallen the wall. Even as soldiers scrambled, the captain knew that action had to be taken. Shouting outwards orders, to prevent his lads from becoming horrorstruck at the sight he tucked his legs inwards. His Wyvern roared loudly as heavy wingbeats shook the supports of the building it was upon; kicking off with enough force to launch it into the air. The creature sped upwards and the slight mimicked sounds of his riders behind him before the rushing wind overcame his sense of sound told him they were right behind him.

"Steel yourself lads! Were the only ones that'll be fighting from the skies at the end of the night!"

They had seemingly come like a horde of locusts. Wind racing past the wyvern lord, he tucked his spear and readied it for a thrust as the spear wielding monstrosities swept down upon the City of Heroes. Tucking his arm he lifted himself and extended with superb form, skewering one of the creatures even as it attempted to thrust at him. A sleek sheen coated his spear as he impaled the creature; only to continue flying upwards and shake his spear to let the carcass descend downwards. His riders followed in suit, shooting upwards into the air until they had cleared the hail of creatures. Getting a view of the scene entirely he could see just how quickly and how horribly things had escalated. From the sky the entire task seemed daunting. He and his twelve riders looked so..inconsequential as the horde approached. A twin series of events stole their attention once more. A powerful explosion that shattered the already clamoring sounds of combat as a portion of the wall was rocked. Entirely ruined, defenders had scrambled to block the hole. That was the lesser concern however. The monster stampeding towards the wall drew his real concern.

A Cyclops. All the tales of demons and dark magic, and he was gazing at those very things made real. The black magic that filled the air had his companion on edge. Simply by the rumbles reverberating through the armored playing on the scaled hide of it fed him such tidbits. He knew that they were needed at too many places at once. In this regard at-least, he could be of use. Over the wingbeats sustaining them he called out to his men. He did bother looking back, knowing they would obey. Such was the bond of his unit, much to his fortune; especially in such trying times. "Brom. Immen, Alexander, and I will help them fend off that..monstrosity. You will take the others and help them keep the wall from being overwhelmed! Fly tight, and keep fast. Fly lads, for In war...Victory!"

With him redirecting his wyvern he turned to speed in a blur of black armored wyvern and red armored rider. Aiming his spear, he knew the best he could hop for were diversions or distracting blows but with speed he could harass the lumbering giant. Thus he would avoid the swordsman tending to it's body directly as well. The captain dove downwards, shouting back to his boys as they came close to striking distance.

"Light strafes! Avoid the arms, and careful of cross fire. Eye and neck are the best spots I'll wager!"

He thrusted first, driving his lance with as much force as he could to catch the muscled hide near the neck while tucking his legs to climb upwards as fast as possible. He knew Immen and Alexander would follow in suit; though Alexander's blow bounced off the powerful shoulder of the creature almost jarring the lance from his arm in the process. Ilheod curved his path upwards to loop back around for another blow. All the while keeping an eye out for incoming threats. This was possibly the most daunting task he had ever taken upon himself. Even while he and his two riders harassed the powerful brutish giant, Brom lead the other nine riders as they all rallied to the wall. He could only hope the presence of the Wyvern riders would boast their efforts. Astraeus let out a loud roar as Ilheod flew him in the loop. Through out the battlefield the other twelve wyverns roared in response to the pack leader. Just as his men and him had been through many a battle, so had the wyverns. He could only hope they'd make it through this one to continue such a fashion.

[Mana]

Mana couldn't think clearly anymore. The adrenaline and smell of blood had confused her sense as she fought against the undead horde. She "danced" among them, moving very swiftly to avoid getting surrounded. The Sacaen girl had lost count how many head her sword had decapitated and her two swords became covered in black blood more for every undead she slayed. While she indeed had courage and skill to survive for until now, her body wouldn't be able to hold for long. Her right arm had got bitten once and several scratch wounds covered her body.

An undead approached from her right while she was pulling Falcatta from the head of her last victim. But the maiden of the blade wasn't unprepared, Kirin in her left hand released a bolt of thunder that blew the undead away. Dual wielding was a style she hadn't mastered yet but she was forced to rely to it if she wanted to fight many opponents at once. Her action was very bold. With most, if not all, defenders had abandoned the hole and retreated deeper into the city, she was the only one fighting the horde at the moment. Her stamina would get depleted soon, and that moment would be her end. The zombies might not have skill and speed to match hers but they had number and undying body.

"I wonder how long I can do this....My legs are starting to give up..."

Lucky for her! Although the words she had said might be harsh and also a bit rude, some men had found courage to stand beside her. Maybe it was because they had watched her fight bravely that the scared defenders finally found some inspiration. Or maybe it was their pride, which couldn't allow a young girl fight their battle for them. Whatever. What important was that some of the fleeing defenders had regained their will to fight. Mana's expression changed into a surprised but happy one when a few men and women passed her and launched themselves to the horde. More then followed and the number kept increasing. This helped to change the flow of battle a bit. If before it looked like Hargus's monster army would easily enter the city through the hole, now they met some heavy resistance by the returning defenders. Of course, not everyone returned, some had already chose to escape, but this renewed morale created a huge difference.

"Can't let them say we leave a little girl like you to do our job," one Sacaen whispered those words to Mana as he passed her.

"Say that after we win this battle," she replied, grinning.

"Listen to me!" Mana then turned around to face those who hadn't joined the fray. "You think retreating deeper into the city is a good idea? It is not, idiot! You only delay your death, your families and friend's death!!! If we fail here and they enter the city then you all are doomed!" she shouted as she pointed her sword to the crowd. The black-haired girl didn't intend to inspire them with speech. She simply stated her frustration. Obviously, her harsh words had infuriated some people, which actually wasn't too bad because anger and rage helped some of them to forget their fear. "Make your choice! Now!!!" A bit satisfied after she released some stress, Mana then joined the fray once again.

Mana went to help a swordsman who were being ambushed by a gargoyle. The bat-like creature was smart enough to find a blind spot to attack but it didn't expect someone to rush into the space between it and its prey. "Naughty bat..." she muttered as she raised Kirin. The Sacaen swordwoman welcomed the gargoyle with a strong lightning bolt from her thunder sword. The gargoyle let out a shriek and then fell down to the ground, twitching weakly for a while before it died.

[Edrick]

Edrick was surprised that as he ran towards the south, filled with determination, he was able to pick up stragglers along the way. Some from the west following him because they saw what happened and some of those that were resting or just got done being healed. No matter where they came from he still managed to get a group of people following after him. Was there something about him that just made people follow him? Nah, it was probably the fact that he has been commanding troops since the break in the wall on the first day. And they probably just thought he was doing something important. But he was doing something important, so they would be right to follow him? Did logic work like that?

Their path to the south wall was stopped, however, by a group of gargoyle monster things that must have either broken through or snuck around the people defending the wall, if there were any left. He prayed to Elmine that is was the latter. Hopefully they were just busy with other monsters, everyone couldn't be everywhere at once to stop everything. Believe it, he tried. HE entered a battle stance, not ready to fight the monsters at this point, but the men that had been running behind him just kept going and charged straight at the monsters to cut them down. Outnumbering the small group of gargoyles they won with nary a scratch and Ed stood there dumbfounded. They just rushed in like that even though they probably weren't even completely ready. That must be what it meant to have true fervor for a purpose. He always thought he was the motivated one. But their motivation took them straight into danger with less regard for themselves. It was admirable. It was something that he should emulate with his beliefs.

As they were dispatching the gargoyle things Edrick happened to look over at the Giant cyclops that now towered over the battle field. It was a large creature but something seemed a little off about it. It looked like there was something on it's shoulder. . . He couldn't tell exactly what it was but it looked to be a. . . person? What was a person doing up there? How did they get up there? It seemed impossible, unless was that person shaped thing was what was doing all of this? There was no other real explanation for it. That was a problem then. And problems on the battlefield needed to be dealt with.

He stood there for a moment, contacting the nether energies, drawing them into him; before manifesting them into an orb in front of him. He planned on where the cyclops would be moving at its current rate and he sent the orb of dark energy into the ground, intending for it to come up underneath the giant monster and make it's way up towards the person on its shoulder.

After the attack he noticed that everyone else was already starting to move towards the hole in the wall to bolster its defenses without him! Hey! He needed to get there too! A little fatigued he began running towards the wall to help fight.

As he got there he spotted a monster going towards a particularly feminine figure and he ran towards her in an attempt to help, but as his luck would have it right as he got there, claws out, a dead monster fell in front of him, tripping him and sending him claws first into the monster. "Oof!" Wounding it while leaving him in a bad position on the ground in front of the person he was trying to help.

[Hargus]

The cyclops reared back as its skin was showered with the razor sharp hail that was loosed from the crimson armored warrior ancient frostaxe, eliciting another scowl of distaste from Hargus. Even after a demonstration of such destructive power, with their comrades fleeing like rodents to beat each other through the ruined palisade, this little band of soldiers had the mettle to stand before him? FOOLS! He had expected resistance from Kenshin, but the red-headed rat had yet to even show his face, and instead here was this pink-haired general who thought himself worthy enough to pit his strength against Hargus, the Demon King! Had the world so forgotten the horrors of Hargus just five years?

“None of you worms can match my strength! NONE!” shouted the the winged man. The cracks in his skin once again to pulse with deep purple energy. Wisps of darkness drew themselves to his palm, orbiting about his hand. He aimed the gathering darkness at the men who had dared to offend him. “OZH VO'FEK!” The devilish utterance punctuated the attack like thunder against lightning, and a dozen nether bolts were thrown in the Ilian’s direction. Like a rain of arrows the magic descended upon the men, and while some, including the commander, managed to leap out of the way in the nick of time, most were not so fortunate. Those not deft or lucky enough to avoid the attack felt their bodies rapidly overcome by a creeping darkness, and as their senses faded and darkness buried itself into the heart, they were transformed into winged servants of a winged master. The red-armored general could only watch on in horror as the squad that had rallied around him was so suddenly turned against him. But where the other survivors ran in terror, the Ilian just as soon turned and fought, much to Hargus’s annoyance.

“Bravery is not a weapon that can be wielded against me, human!” shouted Hargus as his cyclops slammed a massive, stone-like hand onto a squad of fleeing militia. Gravely peals of villanous laughter echoed across the battlefield as Hargus fired another magical assault into a crowd of militia. They too succummed to darkness, adding their might to the Demon King’s forces. Again, though, Hargus could feel his arm tingle. He could create weapons of darkness from the lives of these pathetic souls, but it was draining on his strength. Perhaps mere destruction would serve his purposes better.

But Hargus, atop his grand warbeast, was too high on his own power to notice the two brave warriors, armed with sword and club that ran towards the cyclops’s legs. Like arrows loosed from a bow they shot through the throngs of monsters, then brought their weapons down upon the single-eyed fiend’s flesh. One, a younger man wielding a silver sword, slid his blade through the craggy flesh of the beast’s left leg, while the other, the pirate son of Nya, slammed his magic wrought club into the creature’s foot. The cyclops, which had been busy consuming a handful of crushed Sacaen bodies, howled in agony as its legs were simultaneously struck. In violent response it kicked out its crushed foot at the orange-haired youth before stumbling forward in blind rage, swinging its arms about violently. Mutilated legs could barely support the beast’s immense weight without intense pain, causing the wounded creature to fall forward onto its hands and knees.

Hargus roared in fury as he felt himself drop in altitude, fastening himself to his shoulder-top perch with a clawed hand. These humans and their magic weapons! No, he would not be so embarrassed!
“Crush them for their insolence! SILENCE THEIR SCREAMS!” he barked, but the command was unnecessary. The cyclops, fully enraged by this point, began pounding its arms repeatedly into the ground around it, making no distinction between friend or foe. Dozens were tossed aside like blades of grass in the face of the monster’s power. Wounded or no, it was still enormous, and would fulfill the purpose its master intended for it.

But then, from the sky, came reinforcements. Like gargoyles they bore wings, but atop them rode men, clad in armor and wielding spears. Wyvern riders. They were carrion feeders swooping down upon a carcass they picked at his thrall. Hargus cared not where they came from, only that he would not let them allow these idiot humans to continue to embarrass him.

“Come then! If I am to rule, even the skies must also bow to me!” the Demon King hurled a mass of writhing nether at the oncoming knights, before commanding his newly arisen gargoyles to attack any riders that dared approach him.

[Oya]

Success thought Oya as he heard the screams of horror as his attack struck the beast. At first he did not notice the other warrior on the other side, but once the beast began to rave his image was quite clear. "Hold on a second", spoke Oya, but the massive monster was beginning to move. Its leg took the center of attention as it pulled back in a motion Oya knew far too well and dreaded to see coming. Immediate Oya attempted to move as he knew a kick from the massive beast would be his end. Taking a step Oya called upon the strength of his mighty hammer to empower his leg muscles and allow him to jump far. With a great push Oya lunched himself off the ground. His intentions was to get out of the monster's way completely, but his pause at seeing the young boy on the other side would cost him.

As Oya jumped the beast leg ripped through the air. It pressed forward like a battering ram charging toward a castle wall. Oya's jump removed his entire upper body out of the range of the beast, but his left leg was not so lucky. With the force of a trebuchet the lump of flesh slammed into the young warriors leg. The pain was so sharp it felt as if lighting was running through Oya's body. The orange haired warrior could not help, but to scream in pain as his body hit the ground and rolled across the black earth. Xigshaw, his mighty hammer, slammed into the earth not far from him. Its massive head was impaled into the earth and its pommel stood above oya like a god.

For a moment Oya simply screamed in agony as the pain from his leg radiated through his body. The warrior dared not look at his own leg, as he knew it would only make it worse. His tantrum of agony was cut short however by the sounds of moaning and groaning of Hargus' beast. The undead that still remained around were drawn to him by his flailing. If Oya did not do something he was going to be ripped to pieces by the very monsters he hand been smacking around the battlefield like wheat.

"A curse in Hartmut's name", shouted Oya trying to fight the pain coming from his lower body. At the moment he knew he could not stand. He did not have the strength in his legs to do so, but, if he could just reach Xigshaw. "I need to reach it", spoke Oya as he began to drag his body across the earth. His eyes were focused on the magical hammer, which was now his only salvation. Oya did not know what he was going to do once he touched it, nor did he even think that far. All he knew was if he did not get to his mighty club he might not make it off this battlefield.

[Dietrich Landrik]

Those warriors around Dietrich had paid him and his comrade no mind as the onslaught of foe and the fleeing humans swelled through the wall's blood-painted opening. What was the price of a life when it came to fight over a contested palisade? The dead amassed at their feet and it was almost impossible to keep from stepping on a body. Lines were a blur and the sound of battle was almost deafening. A huge shock rode through the melee towards just away from the wall. Heavy black bolts ripped through the air, producing a loud boom as they caused an overpressure in the already charged air. From where they impacted, a murder of gargoyles sprung into the air. Even with this misfortune, things were holding on. Landrik reached into the smattering of bodies at his feet and pulled forth a rather cheap sword. It would have to do.

Just as he got a good grip on the pommel, a roar and crashing sounds made themselves easily audible over the din of combat. In a position to see clearly, Dietrich wish he hadn't. The one-eyed giant fell forward and started pummeling everything in front of him. Dirt, rocks, and shredded human remains flew here and there in this blood fury. Black and red blood spattered about as there was no clear target. The veteran felt his knees weaken and he dropped his sword, covering his mouth in shock. He had trouble feeling his extremities as he backed up away from the dismal sight. Those were men he was leading. They followed him to a gory end that no one should ever suffer. How does one bury a man who is a blended mix of bones with those around him? He couldn't help himself as his eyes watered and he broke down right there on the wall. The wave of emotion was too much for him to bear.

As a gargoyle swept towards the morale crushed man, it could only laugh one of pure evil and vilification. Realizing his immediate danger and there was no time to grieve all the men he had lost, Landrik pulled his final throwing knife. A hell of a way to die, right? The in-coming thrust was extremely close. He didn't think he would've been able to dodge it. Tripping over a fallen Sacaen, there wasn't much in the way of being any quicker than his full weight being brought towards the ground. The gargoyle's pointed spear jammed itself into the wooden palisade. It made only one attempt to pull the lance before it decided to use its claws on its prey.

Recovering from his fall, fatigue, and anguish, it was difficult. He could easily let the gargoyle take him away, but he already resolved himself to fight. There would be no more future for mankind if such creatures could roam free. "Damn you, why don't you kill me!? Get on with it, piss-breed! If you're the essence of Hargus' power..." Landrik taunted the beast, then being pounced upon. There wasn't much armor to stop its claws from digging into his flesh, but it protected the important parts. Dietrich let out a pained cry. A loud grunt from above him then took his attention.

"HHRRRRRRRRRRAAAAGGGHHH!!!" Berg roared, swinging his acquired bastard sword at the gargoyle's chest. The mighty blade cleaved right through its wings and into its back. It jarred the beast as it made death throes on top of the wounded man. A wicked laugh was yelled from Dietrich as both a glee for living as well as a hearty dosage of Schadenfreude. He jammed his knife into the fiend's neck over and over and over again, each one easily penetrating the thick skin. Each one he thought of the faces of those who followed him. Each one he cursed Hargus who was still breathing.

Berg reached a hand out to him, picking him up and handing him a different sword this time. It was ragged, but it had a curved edge of Sacaen make and it was absolutely covered in blood. Its previous owner made good on killing plenty. Holding it in his hand, he never felt such a sword. It had a light weight and he could swing it easily. It was novel enough for him to ignore his minor wounds which bit at him like fire.

The helmed swordsman looked again at the hole in the wall where he made his stand. He would kill not just for himself, but avenge those who fell. If he were to be killed in the process - so be it. He wouldn't dwell on such trivialities now.

--

Halberd in hand, a rather unadorned man in dirty armor crawled forward. He rested his weight on his lance and breathed heavily through all of the dust that had been kicked up into the air. He had followed a pink-haired man through the gate towards Hargus, but a huge shock had rippled through the ranks and those he charged forward with disappeared. He could hardly hear as his ears rung. Most of what he could hear was a large thumping sound that he could feel in the earth. Standing up, he saw a man flung through the air and land near him. He had a massive hammer that fell near him in which he recognized right away. It was the guy Landrik was taking orders from. Approaching, he saw the young man's leg had been nearly obliterated if not for what armor there was protecting it. Even so, he had a risk of losing it. "Hey carrot-top, I've got you. Quit kicking around." Fuchs said in his ever-present monotone voice.

The soldier pulled the pirate up and onto his shoulders. "Erm... I can't carry both you and that huge hammer. Your leg is blasted, matey. You'll just have to come back for it." he stated, taking a moment to pause and look at the magical hammer. Knowing just how much he loved his Halberd, he was unsure of how the commander would reply.

[Ilheod]

Things were a mixed front. Their harassment of the Cyclops during the first sweep had seemed to enrage it, but distracted it even as the warriors fought it from beneath. Even so, Ilheod couldn't help but to notice the dark essence from the ramblings of the man thing who stood atop the lumbering giant. The darkness he launched was far more sinister than any shiver that had ever run along Ilheod's spine before. The Wyvern Commander circled over in full just in time to notice the horrors of the soldiers being transformed into more of the abominations. His men were already busy trying to protect the defenders over the wall from the winged monsters, and it was as if each one they had slain was undone in this single act. Ilheod lead his two riders back with him to rejoin the main unit even as he saw the beast being lowered to it's knees. It seemed the fighters had it covered there, if two were able to sunder it's legs. Ilheod lifted his spear into the air and called for his riders to regroup with a single shout. The red clad armored rider was easy to spot even in the skies. He lowered his spear and tilted as one of the winged devils attempted to strike at him from a higher elevation. Ducking and plunging his spear into it's throat he felt the inhuman screeches of it as his weapon severed a majority of it's throat and neck from the rest of it's body. With his back briefly turned to the monstrosity, he could hear the shouting of the monster that rode atop the behemoth...

Come then! If I am to rule, even the skies must also bow to me

The dark bolt that sailed towards them not only looked beyond sinister but it had the aspect of death about it. Instantly Ilheod tucked to the side and guided his Wyvern to the right in a form of downwards Aileron roll that merged into the traits of a barrel roll. However even as he spun through the air he saw the bolt sail past him...and to one of his riders. Ilheod shouted loudly in alarm as his other riders had evaded. A single rider locked in combat was unable to however...

"William move! NOW!"

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

Each thrust of his spear seemed to drive another foul Gargoyle to the ground below, dead and souless as it had been when it had risen. William's wyvern Tremor roared out as it buffered one with it's wing beat to daze it before his rider drove his lance into it's chest and skewered it once more. He patted his partner's neck once as it's wing beats brought it back to leveled flight. " Good job boy! Let's rack up a count the guys back home will turn green over~ " He wasn't the youngest, but he was close to it. He had joined the Nightwings when he was sixteen. He was almost twenty six, and he had worked hard to earn his standing among the older riders. Noticing one of the Gargoyles attempting to lift a soldier up within his claws, William snarled and stirred Tremor onwards as they collided into it to push it over a rooftop so the man wouldn't fall to his death if dropped. No sooner had William impaled the beast through the forehead that it did just that; yet the man fell safely onto his back even as William finished it. That was when he heard the captain call out to him. Turning to see what threat he faced that would warrant such, the blast seemed to cast a shadow over his visage moments before it impacted them. William uttered a half a scream with his Wyvern shrieking as it too was caught in the blast. A wyvern's shrieks was a sound that could curdle the blood of even the coldest hearted warrior. A high pitched draconic utterance, and the blast turned both the rider and wyvern to a pulped corpse.

Violently blown asunder their singed remains fell downwards. Simultaneous shouts of anguish from most of the riders could be heard. A comrade of almost ten years, had instantly been taken from them...
---------------------

Seth shouted in rage as he saw his cousin struck down. As the riders flew to regroup, he curved downwards suddenly to fight back the rapidly brewing fears in his mind. Denial reverberated through every ounce of his soul. There had to be some chance they survived. Though guilt entered as well at the thought, perhaps only his mount had taken the lethal force. Maybe William was still alive. However as he approached the spot where the remains had landed he saw it beyond a shadow of a doubt. Bile welled within his mouth while his vision became stained with the droplets of sorrow turned fluid. He almost lost his grip on his spear. Years of discipline..years of training all lost in that moment beneath the realization that his comrade..and his closest family member had just been robbed of him. Seth was so distracted in that brief moment that the winged monstrosity that approached him from behind was able to easily catch him off guard.

Too slow to react to it's satanic laughter as it brought it's weapon down upon him he could just barely avoid a fatal strike as his spear was raised to block it's blow. However the slackened grip allowed it to not only strike at his side but knock him from his wyvern. Crashing briefly against the side of the wooden building he felt the jarring impact before falling two floors worth to the ground. Thankfully his armor prevented bone breaking damage; however the blow upon landing knocked him out cold. However the creature neglected that a rider was not one..but two. Seth's Wyvern Saber snarled loudly as it felt it's rider dismoutned and lunged forwards at the creatures midsection. It's wings extended to knock open it's arms before it's jaws came closed like a vice and bit the monster almost instantly in half. Small portions of bone and flesh kept it's torso connected but it's inability to fight back became worsened as the wyvern plunged it to the ground only to savagely maul it. Saber snarled with an almost feral design and quickly made it's way to it's rider before taking a defensive poise around it. Things had gone from bad, to worse for the Nightwings..

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

Ilheod swore under his breath as he flew with the greatest speed Astraeus could muster. Quickly he rallied his unit and led them into a landing aside the unconscious rider. They were all within sight of William's body. Though he knew they would have lingered even on the battlefield. He looked to the wyvern protecting it's rider, and noticed that each of them seemed more on edge. Of-course. Just as the riders were like family, so were their wyverns. Countless battles together. Flights, drills and even times of leisure together. The wyverns were a pack just as the riders a unit. He knew they had but moments before possible assaults were back on them. Ilheod looked upwards as he felt a cold rage start to grasp at his chest. Not a solid pain, but simply an altered form of determination. His grip tightened around the silver spear as he ordered his unit. "Brom. Take Seth to the center of the city. Careful not to spook Saber, he'll follow if it's one of us that is present when a stranger tends to him. The rest of you. Stay in formation and work over these winged nightmares. Don't break formation.Alexander lead, start to organize yourselves in rank behind. If one gets by the man infront of you, you damn well better kill it in his stead. " Ilheod turned and guided Astraeus back in preparation to take back to the sky.

Alexander clashed his fist to his chest in salute and then spoke as they all remounted their wyverns and prepared for flight. Ilheod heard an unsure tone take to his voice as he questioned him. "Sir..what about you?" Ilheod scowled in a gaze that looked back towards the flailing lumbering giant. Fingers tightened to the point that circulation flaws would have turned the skin white for all to see if it hadn't been for the armored gloves upon his hands. He spoke in a deadened tone, yet the most subtle traces of an uncontrollable rage worked their way into the venom on his words."I'm going to send my spear through that black hearted Bastard's skull and see if he atleast bleeds red. Riders! To the skies!"

As they followed their orders, ten riders took to the sky. One remained behind to tend his wounded comrade. The other, lay in a mangled memory. William. As they flew into the air Ilheod shouted in anger as his spear hit into the sky. Astraeus mimicked it with a roar of rage. Though the sound of a dying wyvern could chill the blood, the calls of one lost to rage could send fear into most any man even had he lost all sense. Ten wyverns though? For the nine that followed Ilheod up at first before taking their formation let out roars almost as loud. Ten riders shouting for a brother lost to them. Ten wyverns roaring for the wing-mate they would never see again.

The sky was littered with corpses as they ascended as the newly formed gargoyles turned to assault them. Their formation like that of a giant spear as they drove skywards. Though Ilheod rose upwards with them at first, he turned his gaze to the fallen Cyclops. His hair brushed aside, his dual shaded gaze filled with a sensation beyond the strongest of contempt. His lads were like brothers, the younger ones like sons. Ilheod's spear seemed to glide along the air as the rider tucked it beneath him and circled to the closer side of the winged monster which commanded the rest. The midnight blue wyvern moved with phantom esque ease. Every sense of his was on edge, as adrenaline mixed into him and pushed his senses to a limit. Swiftly circling about he broke away from his riders as he raced in a single instant towards the downed beast with his weapon cradled as if to joust.

He did not contend with the creatures that made to intercept him, but wove his way past them. Astraeus spun partially to an Aileron roll to avoid the spear of one lunging upwards before re-flattening out as Ilheod inhaled sharply and held his breath. He lunged with every ounce of force he could muster towards the winged monster as he sailed by. He attempted to catch him in the side exposed by standing atop the Cyclopses shoulder. Coming at it from the side the Wyvern captain also kept his legs tucked in-case he tried to assault them with magic so he could steer Astraeus aside fast enough. He exhaled all of his rage into the thrust as he shouted loudly; accompanied by a second roar of the wyvern as they attempted to harm if not cripple the monster that had killed his comrade. He was no god killer, and he doubted he could slay a demon with such powerful magic; but with silver spear in hand Ilheod would see his rage unleashed. His men would not die in vain.

[Mana]

"Those gargoyles are annoying!" Mana gritted her teeth as she glared to the flying monsters in the sky. As long as those creatures conquered the sky it would be too difficult for the defenders to focus on blocking the hole. If they were careless those creatures could pounce them anytime. Archers, mages, and flying units were trying the best to take down the gargoyles but those beasts were too persistent and numerous. And then...the so proclaimed Demon King brilliantly decided to add more gargoyle into the game. Great!

"Oof!"

Mana was quite surprised that someone suddenly got very close to her. Turning around quickly while releasing another thunder, she easily finished the monster Edrick had wounded although she failed to realize that the man who had fell near her feet was an ally. Instinctively, the swordswoman raised and then brought down her sword in a quick fashion, aiming at the fallen figure. Edrick's black robe almost made her mistake him for a Lich or Revenant, which made her giving deadly response. She was swinging her sword at him with an intent to kill...at least until the realization came in before it was too late. The blade stopped just a few millimeters from the shaman's head, softly grazing his cheek. If she was late stopping her sword then he would have joined the Demon King's army. As a shaman, being dark, nether, and creepy, he probably would like it, though...or he wouldn't? Whatever. She could ask him about his preference later. "You surprised me!" she said as she pulled Falcatta away off his face. Well, at worst it would only leave small scratch wound. He wouldn't get mad, riiiiight?

"Hmm...you are..." Mana tilted her head as she bent to get closer look on her helper's face. This man was Edrick! She had seen him a few times since the siege had started although they never found a moment to have some conversation. But he was supposed to lead some archers in the west gate! What was he doing here? Well, she didn't have any right to blame him for leaving his post, though...There were partners in crime...sort of. By the way, she also remembered him as the same man dueling Wyatt in the Bern arena. He might have lost the match but the fight was worth remembering because it was great, where brute force and nether force clashed. "Never mind...Your name is Edrick, isn't it? I am going to trust you to have my back and take care some of those flying things. Leave the zombies to me," she said as she extended her hand and helped him stand.

Just when Mana raised her head and looked at the hole, where the defenders were bravely holding the swarm of zombies from entering the city, the Sacaen girl finally realized the existence of Dietrich and Berg among the defenders. Because the battlefield had become very chaotic and it was basically humans vs monster now, she failed to realized that they were the invaders...well, ex-invaders. It was good that she was clueless about them. If the bandit-hater girl knew...she would definitely attack them. "I am going to check those two. Come with me!" she said to Edrick before darting toward the two men.

"Hey, don't push yourself. I saw you got pounced by that monster. Get to the back line, have yourself healed, and rest for a while," she suggested to Dietrich. Her gaze then darted to the battle. "You can fight again afterwards...We need as many help as we can get," she added, resting her sword on her shoulder.

[Remus]

Remus frantically moved. Hands, though somewhat shaky clutched his healing staff tightly as he moved to the next wounded soldier. Once again, he closed his eyes in the well practiced motion while he allowed calm to enter and flood his mind. His thoughts emptied out the chaos and shouting screams and violent noises indicating clashing. He turned to Saint Elimine herself. One of the great eight heroes, she was known for her blessings in the healing arts and light magics. Remus pleaded for her blessing internally and that his acts could save lives. His only concern, the wounded man before him that clutched at a violent wound which had rent his armor along his breastplate and was even unto his chest. Remus could not repair the armor, but he could mend flesh. The blue haired priest let his magic flow through the staff, as discipline and spiritual faith guided the arcane energy before weaving it into healing essence through the power of his staff. Remus couldn't ease the man's pain even as the wound stitched up. However with the bright blue glowing light emanating from his staff soothing the wound it's self he knew the man's pain would soon end as the wound closed entirely. Though he would still need rest before moving on to fight once more. Remus placed a hand on the man's shoulder and smiled slowly standing up to move to the next person.

That was when he heard the explosion. For the first time, Remus looked behind the wounded he had been tending. Elimine preserve him, he couldn't believe what he was seeing. Men twisting in writhing agony as they were altered and transformed into twisted monstrosities. Clutching his staff nervously the priest looked on, powerless to help them before they ascended skywards to assault more defenders. The sounds around him were horrific. Screeching and roaring of wyverns, the shouts and screams of defenders. The roaring of the massive monster now in view that was assaulting the encampments, and even beyond that the warriors holding off a hole in the wall at a separate point. He saw how they tried to hold the line together. Men literally throwing themselves into the horde to try and fend off the foul monstrosities of the dark which had risen to fight them. At that moment, he couldn't be sure what it was that inspired his actions. Perhaps it was the guiding hand of Elimine, or perhaps it was merely his desire to protect others regardless the cost. Remus stood up, clutching his staff to his chest for a moment and closed his eyes in the shortest prayer of his life. A quiet utterance as he braced himself."Elimine..protect them.."

He made no prayer for himself, wishing all fortune that may have shielded him to instead shield another. He inhaled sharply and started to run for the hole in the wall. His blue scarf tucked around his neck combined with his white priest robes made him stick out sorely. Remus stumbled slightly as he ran, the corpse of a grotesque gargoyle nearly falling upon him as it was slain from the sky. The priest nervously looked upwards to see the winged monsters everywhere, panicking a bit as he moved faster for the walls breach. He was so intent to however, he stopped moments before stumbling into the dark raven haired Swordswoman. Sliding to a stop the man clutched his staff quickly trying to acknowledge the defenders, the man's out of breath tone indicating he had just arrived from closer to the center of town given how far he would have had to run. "I err..I'm unsure what's going on. I'm just a priest but..I'll help however I can! I can't let you all hold this place unsupported! Err...How can I help?" He had never seen a battle, let alone a war like siege. All Remus knew he could do was heal. However if they could but direct him, he would do just that. However the priests outlandishly bright attire marking him as not only a follower of Elimine but a priest drew unwanted attention. One of the winged monsters shrieked loudly as it flew in suicidally towards him. Yelping in shock, he stumbled backwards as it flew past the dark cloaked male and sword wielding female attempting to impale the poor man. However it missed due to his stumbling as he fell backwards slightly. It collided with a portion of the wall and tumbled downwards, only to climb up and grab it's spear. Clutching it, it flew towards the three with a loud screech. Remus again yelped in shock, as he had no way to actually fight.