Preparing for Bulgar {open}

[Drei]

It was descending past early morning by the time Drei shifted from the sleeping mat within his small tent. Sounds of bustling around him were cause enough for him to stir. Shifting in his waking state the white haired shaman sleepily leaned forwards as if to stretch out his back. Part of his snowy white top was flattened to his head instead of coming downwards. Spiking upwards it created a cowlick from his face being buried into his pillow all night. As he parted the flap to his tent to find the source of the noise, Drei noticed the seemingly large group near the base of the hill he had been camping atop. Another merchant caravan? Possibly. He wasn't particularly interested in finding out though. Simply more people the world had presented him with to ignore. What joy. Still somewhat slow to cognitively calibrate due to the haze of dreariness within, body slow to awaken it seemed; the shaman rose to his feet outside the tent and tended to the horse. Tied to a stake near the now dead campfire, it was content simply to eat at the grass around it for it's breakfast. Drei on the other hand felt his stomach churn with hunger as the smell of ash and embers reached him when he walked by his campfire.

Hands slipping into the back near it he removed an apple as he felt the slight morning chill still brushing by in the wind quicken his waking process. A few crunches into the apple later, the fruit had jolted him further and he was already packing up his tent. Every now and again his eyes darted to the Merchant Caravan though with an impassive, almost disinterested look always upon his face. The shaman slipped his free hand into his robe to feel the twin tomes within that were bundled together and on a pack at his hip beneath his coat. The dark black tome that was his personally, his Flux tome. The second tome that was a lasting memento of his fathers. A Ruin tome. He couldn't rightly use it, but that wouldn't stop him from trying. Eventually he could possibly get the hang of it.

Drei's gaze moved after a time towards the east. It wouldn't be long now before he arrived where he had longed to visit. Bulgar was not his birthplace, nor a place he had visited often. He knew his parents had though, before they created the circus in full size and after. He remembered a few people in particular they had visited. Perhaps if he started there...well maybe he'd figure out what he was supposed to do with his life. Where to go next. Tugging a bit at the bag he had finished packing up he tied it to the back of the horses saddle. All that was left was to check his supplies. It was at this point however that the ruckus from the caravan started to get louder. Which was..irritating to say the least. Upon re-examining however he noticed the mass motions and stirring was too frantic. Almost panic like. That was when he noticed it. Attack. They were actually under attack. A small group of brigands it looked like.

He was hidden. Atleast in the aspect that none of them knew he existed. He could have simply taken off on his horse and gone past the group. Was that really what his parents would have wanted though? They were far too kind. Now the frantic cries as someone was cut down reached his ears. Though he disliked it...he had to do something. Turning around he made sure the stake in the ground was fastened tightly and his horse wouldn't run off before turning on his heel to run down the hill. The shaman's outlandish purple and gold coat trailed behind him while he moved. It was only five brigands. The caravan looked like it had atleast a few guards. Well..one less now. Perhaps at the sight of dark magic they'd flee. People after all were so skittish around it. Only one way to find out...

[Aiden Blackwell]

"Hah....At least I haven't twisted or broken anything yet, small mercies." The youth complained to himself, wiping sweat from his brow. It may be morning, but the pupil had been walking through the night to make up for his inevitable misdirection. He ended up walking the complete opposite direction during a majority of the previous day, mostly due to directional assistance from a less-than-knowledgeable farm-hand. The young man was almost absolutely- exhausted, but still he trudged on in the direction of bulgar. The city offered him knowledge, and possibilities; of what, the novice magus was unsure.

Suddenly a yell of pain echoed through the hills before him, so he press himself onward as quickly as he could manage. If there is screaming, then people needed assistance, and not helping would simply leave a pit inside himself; and that is the sort of thing someone weilding elder magics should avoid at all costs. Though he didn't know if he could bring himself to -kill- anyone just yet, though he very well may have to.

With effort and many a strain upon himself, he finally got to a proper vantage of the events going on in the small plains below the hill. Brigands, such dastardly beasts of men, and five of them?! He wouldnt survive such an encounter on his own, but nonetheless, he walked with combination or proper feet placement and stumbling as he descended the height, hoping that whomever was being sacked at least had some gaurdsmen to assist in defeatong such a foe.

[Drei]

The sight of the people panicking added a fire to Drei's veins he had never known. The thrill of a performance as he orchestrated the spectacle of visually illusions and distortions was one thing. This on the other hand was something else entirely. His heart thundered in his chest, and even if his face didn't express it...a mounting anticipation filled him. It made him feel conflicted. Within him was the spirit of an entertainer. How then, could he feel such a thrill at imagining what he could do to the brigands given the chance? Dashing down the grassy hill, the white haired Shaman slid to a stop as he reached an upturned wagon. He'd be safest if he could keep himself slightly hidden from them. Quickly the Shaman's hands lifted as he clutched the pitch black tome dangling upon a binding from his waist. Cold gaze snapped to the closest brute.

Of the five the one closest was roughly shoving a portly man around as he shouted gormless like. Drei's expression did not darken, but suddenly..his finger tips did. His left hand flipped open the book to a specific pre-marked page as he lifted his right one and began to gather the swirling darkness of the nether. He snapped the book shut, having only briefly confirmed a sketch of the diagram he'd follow mentally. Releasing the book it fell only to dangle before slipping beneath his cloaks covers again; courteously done so by gravity. His newly freed hand extended as if to clutch an apple from above. Dark energy twisted and swirled as he performed the much practiced Elder Magic. Shadows guided by his will silently morphed into a massive sphere before slipping down into the ground like a pool. Moments later, the Brigands shadow contained said pool as it burst upwards into life.

Confused, the man shouted in fright as the dark magic blasted his chest and knocked him backwards onto his back. Body bruised, but soul shaken the man shakily attempted to get back up. Drei shifted his gaze as he saw two guards distracting two brigands. Temporarily no doubt. Drei was only able to handle things one brigand at a time, at best. At this point he noticed the boy who looked similar to his age making his way down the hill. He seemed interested in helping too. That was good. Drei turned his frigid gaze back to the bandit that had gotten back up. This time as Drei lifted both his hands the Elder Magic formed while a slight series of circles appeared around Drei's body. The symbols of the ritual fully completed. They flashed twice before fading. Elder Magic burst from his hands as he performed the Flux spell a second time. The bandit shouted out in pain as his body was contorted by the blast of nether. However this also alerted the two not fighting to their partners plight. Both men spotted the white haired Shaman, and began to make their way towards him. Such a great idea, this had been. Defending them. Now he'd probably have to run or get cut down; wouldn't that make for a grand tale...? Not.

[Mila]

Stay away from the academy. Mila recalled in her mind the last few words of her mentor's letter. Well I can't get any farther from Eutria while still being in touch with civilization then Bulgar. She mused.

The mage had managed to hitch a ride with a small merchant caravan. The caravan seemed to be well funded as they managed to hire a few guards for the trip. She agreed to work on the caravan for free as to avoid any conflict with contracts.

Sacae was nice. And it wasn't all grasslands like she was told. She had distinctly seen some mountains and even a few patches of trees dotted together across the vast expanse of land. She assumed that the ecosystems and terrain would change the further she went in. The mage pulled out from her bag a small book filled with lore. She flipped over to a page she had dog eared earlier and began reading out loud. The son of the caravan stared up at the young woman listening intently to her every word. Occasionally chiming in to "add" something to the tale such as the color of the hero's hair and his profession before becoming the "hero".

"Oh oh he's got black hair like me. And he's a merchant like papa." The little boy chimed in. Mila smiled softly as she kept editing the lore to fit his rendition.

"Okay okay so Roland the merchant.."

She was interrupted. The caravan had stopped and was being attacked by bandits. The sounds of conflict started to escalate as the guards began engaging the enemy. The child quickly clutched the mage's leg afraid. Mila carefully instructed the boy to hide among the supply barrels.

"Don't worry little one I'll keep you safe. But you must stay hidden and quiet no matter what you hear. You remember the pull away hatch yes? Use it to escape if a bandit finds you." She spoke softly to the little one. The child nodded crouching low by the barrels. Mila quickly draped a heavy cloth over him.

The mage quickly put away her journal and pulled out her tome. She pulled her hood up over her head and her bandanna scarf over her face. Well time to work.

She learned the faces of her traveling companions so as to avoid pelting them with fireballs when she cast. She closed her eyes for a brief moment, concentrating until a bright ball of flame hovered over her hand. One fool hardy bandit tried to crawl into the back of the wagon. Mila smiled softly and promptly launched the ball of flame square into the man's big burly chest and knocked him back out of the wagon.

[Aiden Blackwell]

"Wo- woahah!No no no don-" The young man yelled as he tripped up on his path down hill,quickly silenced by the sudden introduction of dirt to his face as he began tumbling and eventually rolling down the hill in a mess of flailing limbs and flapping cloak. The site certainly was embarrassing to him, and probably an amusing diversion to the bandits, if anyone deigned to look in the direction his shout came from.

Newly dumped at the foot of the hill from his ordeal, recovered enough sense to get up and properly align himself soon enough. He looked to the scene, though it was probably stupid for him to stay in one place after making such a ruckus, and noticed a gout of flame engulf one of the deviants as the brigand was forcefully ejected from the wagon it attempted to invade. The screaming made him cringe as he began to move closer to the caravan, tome at the ready.

He knew he wasn't mentally prepared for this, be he -had- to do something to help, the black book shakily held and opened within his grasp. Soon enough he had no real choice as to what he could do when he came into direct eye contact with one of the fiends, a chill running down his spine as he saw the elder man's grim smirk.

"Oh dear....hurry up!" He quietly berrated himself as he fumbled through the book, palms slick with sweat as his adversary advanced upon him, seeing as how the pupil was trying to get his bearings straight, quite the easy target indeed. "Finally!" The flustered young man said only somewhat triumphantly as he located the page he required, and boy did he try and rush the casting! His hand moved about him, areas surrounding him partially darkened and shimmered about him as his chanting began, the words stumbling out of his mouth in his haste. The magic formed as it always dod for him, a small fist-shaped orb pulsating rhythmically in his grasp, though this time it condensed somewhat on occasion, which was worrying. With this new development the pupil threw the orb as quickly as he could, not knowing if his haste made the spell overly volatile. The ball of elder magics went through the air, but fell mostly short of the intended area, contacting and enlarging to engulf his foe's legs, spreading pain and agony enough to bring the brigand to a momentary pause.

The next event caught Aiden entirely by surprise as his foe, though no longer walking toward him, hefted the large axe within its grasp and brought it out by its arm. When the brigand threw his axe similar to that of a discus, the novice was momentarily stunned by the sight, just barely able to bring himself out of its direct path; but not, of course, early enough to save himself from scoring a mild gash upon his arm.

[Drei]

Drei's eyes darted back and forth as he saw the scene unfold. Dancing lights from a burst of flame drew his attention sharply. One of the would-be attackers had been knocked flat upon his back by a sudden eruption of flame. Cold calculating gaze switched focus then to the other brigands. One was trying to hack his way through the metal shield brandished by one of the caravans two remaining guards. The brave defender valiantly tried to keep the ax wielding brute at bay even though he could not manage room to effectively use his spear against the man's ax. The other one was doing a better job, but that was thanks to exploiting the foliage around him. The smallest things truly could make the biggest impact. That was when Drei shifted his sights again to notice the boy he had seen prior. It didn't take much to be able to feel the presence of the nether. Elder Magic was not easily forgotten, especially by those who practiced it. So he could use the tome as well eh? Drei's mind had a certain rush to it as he placed one hand on the upturned wagon and threw himself atop it in a crouch; one agile motion completed when he knelt atop the wooden side. He had to be careful how he played this next. While he thought to himself, his hands rested a small distance apart from one another. Concentration brought the essence of the void to his grasp once more as darkness started to configure.

I can't be sure, but I'd assume the fire was a mage. A torch wouldn't erupt like that. It seems that aspect atleast is certain. That leaves the guard near by there safe. The other one's fighting too far away for me to try attacking. I could injure the soldier as well. Let's not go into all the mess that'll cause. So..right then it's help the other Shaman. From his heightened position upon the wagon Drei had a bit of a vision edge. Pivoting on the pads of his feet with his weight shifted to the ball of one foot he remained crouched as he mentally completed the same spell as before. The rushing sensation of Elder Magic gathering to his finger tips sent a thrill of rushing power through him; only to be suppressed behind steel nerves and an ironclad focus. All to well he knew how to maintain a level head while casting; it gave him clarity when he needed it most. His coat billowed and trailed as if he was within an upwards draft; magic rushing faster forwards as he condensed the sphere of dark magics into another spell. A faint buzzing of crackling void energy burst before the burst of Elder Magic was sent towards the man who had injured the boy. It wasn't strong enough to maintain a fatal burst at such a distance. However it was potent enough to knock him on his back.

It was like an outlet. The perfect release of pent up anger and frustration. Through his blank non-expressive gaze Drei felt a twisted satisfaction. He had been powerless to assist his parents fight the Etrurian guard. Here however, he was able to act. As if a way to make amends. Perhaps that had been why he was so fixated on helping in the first place? A chance to redeem imagined short-comings and failures? He couldn't be sure. To be honest, he didn't care to be either; all that mattered was he could act and would. Instead of shouting out to check on the boy, Drei quietly gathered to him the magicks in preparation for the next attack. Unlike Anima, Elder Magic took more time to gather. It was tapped into by one source; though that source housed a greater well of power individually than any elemental spirit might have and balanced power with lack of speed. Drei could only hope the boy would move or make an attempt to finish the brigand. The burly injured man was already stumbling to his feet.

[Mila]

Mila let out a bit of a soft sigh. She quickly grabbed something sharp and jumped out of the wagon. What she grabbed was the pointy end of a broken lance. She plunged the sharp end deep into the man's scorched chest. Got to be thorough. Her brother's voice rang out in her head. Show no mercy. Your life and the life of your client is at stake!

She quickly conjured up another ball of flame. Be prepared for anything and everything. The mage looked around hoping to find another easy target. A guardsman she recognized seemed to be struggling with the axe blows of another bandit.

She steadied her hand and studied the distance between her and the bandit. In one swift motion she threw the fireball at the bandit giving the guardsman the opening he needed. The guard ran his lance through the bandit. He nodded at Mila's direction before running off to assist another one of his comrades.

Mila shook her hand a bit. Her finger tips were singed from "holding" the fire too long. Ow. The mage did her best to ignore the pain. Her intention was to keep her back to the caravan and prevent anyone else from discovering the boy hiding within. She quickly glanced to the sides of the wagon making sure no other bandits were sneaking up on her.

Oft to one side Mila could see someone she did not recognize. A white haired young man who appeared to be a caster. That's a flux tome in his hand. Oh great he's a shaman. She frowned softly. Anima mages like herself usually lost to the sheer power brought upon by shamans and their dark magic. If circumstances were different she would have asked the shaman several questions about dark magic. Specifically how a shaman is able to manipulate shadows into affecting physical objects.

But as far as she was concerned this youth had just finished casting a flux spell at something and she assumed it was one of the guard. She quietly flipped a page of her fire tome and recited the spell. Her spirit momentarily tapped into the great spirits of the world until a perfectly formed sphere of fire was hovering over her hand. Her body felt slightly drained. The three spells being cast back to back were starting to take a toll. She took a moment to collect herself, then quickly threw the fireball at the shaman.

[Aiden Blackwell]

Blood? Is that -really- blood I feel? No, it couldn't be...but then why does my arm hurt so much? I was hit, wasn't I?..Just my luck.. Aiden would mentally discuss with himself as a hand unconsciously went to probe the wound, eliciting a his of pain as he felt around the gash for a few moments before bringing it up to his face, not paying the brigand who was the cause of it as the stocky male lumbered to his feet.

The pupil sat there, rigid as he stared at his crimson essence. "So..they....so they really -are- trying to kill -everyone-..." He whispered as he kept sitting, transfixed by his ichor as though he were held within a trance. Suddenly a mix of emotions poured over him: fear, confusion, anger, doubt, fascination, but at the very end of this, so faintly there was a spark of something within him. That spark was, determination. And as he sat there , stunned and enraptured by the blood, now slightly dried on his palm, it grew stronger and stronger. He -will- help these people, and he will -not permit himself to die, even with his inexperience. And so, the novice rose, the words from the flux tome ringing through his head like a song. A song that he shaped and sculpted with his hands and voice as his voice rang out to join the words circling within his mind. The air growing dense as dark, aetherial matter formed in his blood-caked palm, as though it were feeding from it. The power involved did not buffet his cloak as if he were facing a sharp wind, instead the area around him felt heavy, dense as his incantation reached its climax. The bandit was within a range of a few steps now, but Aiden, in his fugue, was unfazed.

The orb, as it formed grew larger than it normally did, now the size of an axe-head, though when it reached such a mass, it folded and condensed in upon itself. Deadly calm had enveloped the pupil as he launched the now golf-ball sized orb of focused dark energies toward his foe. The sight of its impact was near awe-inspiring as it suddenly grew to envelope the Brigand with it's foul magics, almost as if i were feasting on his very soul as it soon covered the man's entire body for just a few moments before dissipating, leaving the pore sod to fall to the ground, deathly pale with his eyes rolled up and into their sockets.

With the dissolution of his casting, Aiden returned to his normal state, looking in both awe, and disgust at what he had done. Shaking his head, he took a few steps back as he ran the scene through his head repeatedly, wondering how -he- of all people could do such a thing, and with such power too.

[Drei]

It was such an odd contrast. Violence raging upon the green fields, and battle that sent the nerves on edge. Even so, the breeze that brushed past the white haired shaman as he channeled the energy of the nether to his finger tips was almost a calming caress. A soothing sensation that inspired a sense of relaxed mind and calmed nerves. It had been one of the reasons he loved Sacae, and had missed it so badly upon leaving it when his family and he had ventured to other lands. Sure Ilia had been somewhat pleasant. Lycia had it's perks. Nabata had been- actually no. There wasn't anything particularly interesting or positive he could associate with Nabata. Still, Sacae out classed them all. His cold gaze drifted to the brigand that he faced while crouched. Kneeling upon the side of the upturned wagon, the Shaman was poised to take the wounded man out. That was however; until he noticed the flash of light. A fiery projectile raced towards him. The mage defending the caravan...

He could only assume she mistook him for an attacker. Was she blind? Perhaps just foolish. Both was a distinct possibility as well. He had clearly been attacking the brigands. This matter required his attention more so than the bandit attacking the other boy. He could defend himself atleast. For now if nothing more. Drei focused his gaze. His muscles grew tense as he aimed his next shot. As if refining a purposed sense of tunnel vision he focused on the fire formed projectile only. An intense surge of Elder Magic swirled around him as he further charged it to ensure it would overwhelm the red bolt sailing through the air with bright cherry red hot tongues of flame licking through the air currents as it trailed to him. His cloak wavered and a pulse of void like essence crackled from his finger tips. Snapping his Flux tome closed he let it drop to his side and dangle there fastened by a strap to connect it to his belt.

His hands lifted as he sculpted the dark magic and flawlessly formed the black sphere. Drei calmed himself. Even as the thrill of tainted pleasure at directing his imposing magic to others tried to rise up with roaring pride he quelled it. Smothered it in iron clad focus and stamped it out entirely a moment after. He released the black orb to intercept the woman's fire ball. Sailing it out he blankly watched as it was set to collide. Even though the extra effort he channeled was simply a precaution he knew Elder Magic had an edge against the elemental Anima Magic.

His attention from the result was briefly drawn as he gazed flatly to the boy recoiling from the corpse at his feet. So he had manged to kill him? That was good. Drei spoke flatly towards him as his gaze returned to the girl. Now however the soldiers were starting to struggle with the Brigands. Perhaps she would understand he was there to help now, yeah? "If you stop at each corpse you make to tremble before your own art, you'll find your life being too short to worry about remembering them later. Besides. Trash like him deserves such a fate. Do not mourn that which can not mourn at all...." Hmm. Unusually talkative of him. Perhaps fighting had such an effect on him? Either way, he'd have to make his way to the other two. Unless the mage kept lobbing fire balls at him. That would have just been...irritating.

[Mila]

Mila watched as her flame became engulfed in a small sphere of black energy. She hadn't expected something like that. She was expecting the shaman to jump out of the way so she could fire one more shot at his backside. The darkness swallowed the flame, smothering it, then simply vanished into the air as inky black smoke.

Mila watched the shaman in a stunned silence. Unsure of what her next move should be. The shaman clearly had great skill with his flux tome. Or he had average skill and she was just simply too unfamiliar with dark magic to determine what constitutes as "great skill". Either way she was still there watching. Why isn't he attacking me?

Her gaze shifted slightly to the other young man who was on the ground. From the looks of it he too was a shaman, but unfamiliar with the ways of combat. She could tell just simply from the way the dark haired youth was staring out blankly into the horizion. If she had to guess the youth had just taken his first life. As the lifeless corpse of another man she knew not laid dead on the floor near his feet. When did that happen? And why didn't I see him sooner? Oh hang on the white haired shaman is saying something.

She focused her vision on the white haired man's lips, slowly making out the words he spoke. If you stop at each corpse you make to tremble before your own art, you'll find your life being too short to worry about remembering them later. Besides. Trash like him deserves such a fate. Do not mourn that which can not mourn at all. The white haired one was consoling the black haired one. Are they together?

One of the guard shouted her name, which promptly brought her back to reality. She hesitated turning her back on the two strangers but seeing as how she wasn't poked full of holes by dark shadows, she could only assume these two are not part of the bandit squad. And if they were well... she did not want to think about it.

She turned around and tried to spy the guard who called for her. Her body hiding cloak spun with the air around her, like a delicate ribbon caught in a breeze. She found them. Three men were dealing with two rather speedy bandits. Who were taking advantage of the terrain beneath their feet to become even more difficult to hit. Some of the guards were wounded from the cheap shots of the bandit's blades. The mage quickly began casting another fire spell, determined to aid her coworkers in arms. Speedy bandits like thieves, myrmidons, and rouges were harder to hit then the usual axe wielding lug of a bandit. And they can close the distance between themselves and a mage in a heartbeat. Only very skilled mages could successfully fire off two accurate spells within a heartbeat's time. And Mila was not that skilled. Yet.

But she couldn't just stand there and do nothing. With a newly formed fireball in hand she carefully lobbed it at the bandit's feet. Hoping that it would be enough of a distraction for one of the guards to finish them off before they made their way to her.

[Aiden Blackwell]

The pupil simply sat where he was with no real knowledge of what was happening around him, the shaman's words just barely registering in his mind, but soon to be pushed back by other thoughts. Still shocked that he'd brought himself to kill another. What had gotten into him? How had he drawn on such power? Knowing him, it was probably a once in a lifetime chance. These things crossed through the young man's mind at steady intervals between shocked, awed, and out right disgusted.

A shout had rung high and clear through the air and jolted him free from his self-deprecating, internal war with himself. "What am I doing...sitting here like an idiot. Surprised a bandit hasn't run me through yet, really." He spat under his breath as he rose up from the ground on partially shaky legs, and dusted himself off. He cast a lingering glance to the pallid form splayed on the ground before him as he went to find the remaining marauder's. Hand raked through hair and opened his tome to a page as he grasped the leather-bound thing like it was secretly made of snakes.

A gout of flames sprang up before one of the remaining miscreants and drew Aiden's attention. The pupil grasped held his tome out before him, ready to cast again. Thankfully though, the boy had not needed to utter a word, seeing as how the offender was now being harried by someone, whom he could only guess, was a caravan guard. This left the novice to freely look about the field, looking to whomever had attempted to comfort him, or at least get him out of that ridiculous fit he was having.

[Samantha Khione]

Samantha had woken with a start. Some kind of commotion had started up outside. She peaked out of her tent to see some kind of fight going on. It seemed as though some bandits were attacking a caravan. She noticed a white haired man among those in the fight. Drei could have at least woken her up. But, then again, attacks like these most often happen suddenly. She quickly changed into her everyday clothes, which were much better suited for fighting that pajamas. Pulling on her second boot, she half stumbled out of her tent, clutching her fire tomb to her chest as she did.

It seemed as though the fight was starting to get under control by the time she made her appearance. A young mage seemed to be hurt, but ok. Drei was holding his own, and judging by the fireball that landed by the feet of two of the remaining bandits, yet another mage was nearby as well. The men who she assumed to be the guards of this caravan started to attack one of the two bandits, so Samantha turned her attention to the other. Focusing on the fire that the hidden mage had created, Samantha reached out and let her energy combine with it. Raising her hand, she took one of the tongues of flames and threw it at the remaining bandit. The fire hit the man straight in the chest and set his clothes on fire. The man screamed, but she ignored it.

It was strange. She had thought that she might be scared or regretful if she ever had to take a life. But instead, she felt calm. Not because she was enjoying the experience, but because she knew that it was something she needed to do for survival. Before the bandit could attempt to put the fire out, she reached out again and helped the fire spread to all of his clothing. In a few seconds, he fell to the ground, lifeless. Leaving the remaining bandit to the guards, she looked towards Drei. "You could have woken me, you know."

[Drei]

Drei's gaze lingered for a moment longer upon the direction where the girl had sent flames at him from. Luckily she had realized the error of her actions and moved to attack one of the brigands. At-least she realized it before they had gotten into a another few rounds of magical combat. It was one thing to focus on killing gormless half-wits like the brigands. Another to have to worry about them while handling attacks sent by "allies" towards him. The sudden approach of the blue haired mage who had shared his camp-site didn't draw much physical notice by him though he did respond to her words as she turned to assist in roasting one of the bandits alive. "It was un-necessary. If it awoke me it was likely to wake you. If you slept through it you were safely hidden, if you awoke you would contribute. Either one was viable, my interference was not necessary. "

However with their being but one left he decided to help the two guards struggling with the ax wielding brigand finish off their foe. Re-using the knowledge from within his tome Drei slowly extended both hands. The essence of the void conjured around his hands in a swirling pool of power. The mass of energy that began to form at his fingers was emphasized by the pulse of Elder Magic around him. Dark twisting shadows fluctuating like a beating heart's pulse as he shaped and sculpted the sphere. A thick inky black murky pool of shadows blossomed out from his feet that rose from the ground to join en-mass into the sphere as energy crackled around the shaman. His robes billowed a bit as he formed the spell. Light and Anima were faster to cast, as a balance to their weaker power. After a few moments of channeling however Drei was able to release the spell with a dark pulse. His cold gaze unwavering focused on his target the entire time. The shaman with snowy white strands of hair launched it so it would sail through the air with a chilling intent behind it that would make it's self obvious as the sphere burst into a plume of darkness as it collided with the Brigand when the two merchant guards had taken a moment to back up and try to regain their breath. A muffled cry of agony started at first, only to be suppressed and silenced mid shout with the man's body being claimed by the Nether. His figure twisted and somewhat mangled looking as the now ghostly pale brigand fell dead and partially tormented; but dead none the less.

Pausing for a moment, Drei slid off the side of the cart he had been crouching upon and walked slowly towards the fallen bandit. Despite the black haired boy's horror in his acts, Drei was almost entranced by the effects of Dark Magic upon those who suffered a direct assault. Kneeling by the corpse, dark fog like essence still spiraling around his corpse. The Shaman extended one hand and slowly began to channel the lingering taint, calling it to his hand. The excess energy would permeate within his palm as he formed it into a small orb and maintained it. He slowly stood up and turned around to gaze at the others with a tilt of his head; looking at the frightened merchants who were hiding behind a fourth wagon near the back of the entire scene. A sudden shout caused Drei to turn his head. A loud one, roar like almost and defined by the opposite of friendly in his own mind.

Atop the hill, opposing the one Drei had been camping on a mountain of a man stood with one knee propped on a log seemingly idly laying upon the hill. In his hand a large heavy looking steel Ax. Around him, a group of thugs that numbered at about ten it looked like. Most of them thinner and instead of wielding Ax's like the others they were carrying swords. His gormless smile followed by a loud voice that split the eerie silence with unwelcome intent. "What's this? Leave the boys alone for but a minute and theys off gettin' themselves killed? Up and at em' lads! Let's thump these fools and be done with it! Run little chickens, Run an- Gaahhrrrrrr"

His words cut off by a somewhat almost over the top struggle and howl of pain. The left over dark essence Drei had been holding, he projected directly to the waste of meat which assumed some form of leadership over the men who had attacked the caravan. However After sending the dark projectile, Drei sprinted back to the Wagon he had been sitting upon; leaping up and pulling himself back onto it so he could crouch again. Safety at a greater distance and higher point. While the man struggled and clawed at his face, shaking it wildly the dark whispy taint began to disperse. A lovely series of burn like scars pulsed an angry red along the right side of his face and had forced his eye shut. The man pointed with a slightly cracked voice as he started running down the hill towards the caravan; henchmen behind him. "Kill em all boys! Keep the magic ones. We'll sell em' off as slaves!"

[Mila]

The mage took a deep breath with the last of the immediate bandits beaten. She pulled out from her sleeves a small set of binoculars. These tiny binoculars had been with her through thick and thin. As evidenced by the rather large crack that decorated the right lens. She could see one large brigand out in the distance with a large axe followed by a wave of other smaller but fast looking bandits. Great.

The mage called each of the surviving caravan mercenaries by name and told them to heal up with salve and to be prepared for the second wave. Before the surviving mercenaries could rebuttal with the usual "who made you the boss" tagline Mila replied that reinforcements were on the way.

"OTHER MAGES ARE NOT ENEMIES! ED STOP GLARING MENACINGLY AT THEM! BANDIT LEADER DEAD AHEAD! STEEL AXE! TEN OR SO FAST SWORD MOOKS! GET YOUR REAR IN GEAR!" There was no time for arguments. The mercenaries reluctantly did as she commanded. They used the small window of time to try and heal up as best they could and catch a breath. Ed, Joe, and Stan are still kicking good. Our Lancer, our Mercenary, and our former Cavalier. Damn it if we had a medic this we could breathe a bit easier. She was worried. She had not seen either of the boy's parents since the attack and wondered if they were still alive.

The tactical side of her brain was starting to show. In about two minutes or so the whole mass of the sword wielding bandits would be upon them. Three magic users. Oh wait no make that four. As her eyes caught glimpse of the blue haired mage who was the last to enter the battle field. Ooh. She's cute. Focus Mila, lives are at stake.

"You Other Magic People!" She directed her attention to most of the magic users who seemed to have conveniently gathered near the same area. "Those guys" were not employed by the merchants to protect them. They were just good Samaritans who did not need to get poked full of holes by sharp bandit swords.

"If you want to retreat now's your chance! You have no obligations to us or the caravan!" She paused momentarily, as the sound of a loud "WHAT!" came from the direction of one of the mercenaries. Most likely from Ed. She put her tiny binoculars back in their proper place and pulled out her tome. Soon the enemy would be upon them.

"But IF you guys stay continue to provide support. Keep out of the front lines and support the men from behind."I have no knowledge of any of your skills. But please don't get yourselves killed on our behalf.She turned her attention back to the front lines. The small horde of men were just a few steps away now. Mila braced herself for anything.

[Samantha Khione]

"Unless you all were killed and then they killed me in my sleep..." Samantha muttered so that Drei couldn't hear her. It looked like things were finally calming down. Scratch that. More bandits, including a man who seemed to be their leader, had appeared. Sacae was a nice place, but the number of bandit attacks she had encountered since coming here had increased by a lot. She watched as a girl, who she was guessing was the mage who had thrown the fireball earlier, came out of her hiding spot and started shouting orders to the guards of the caravan. She seemed like she was in control, which was impressive for someone of her age.

She was snapped out of her thinking by Drei's attack on the man who seemed to be the bandit leader. She hadn't seem much dark magic before, and it was both scary and impressive. From the looks of things, the bandit leader didn't care much for Drei's attack, which was to be expected. Wait, what was that? Sell the magic users off as slaves? No thank you. Samantha had many plans for her future, and none of those plans involved her becoming a slave. She had no intention of taking the girl's option and retreating. She wouldn't become a slave, and she wouldn't let these other magic users become one as well. Raising her hand up in front of her, she focused until a fireball had appeared it in. Had it not been such a chaotic time, she would have been pleased at how much easier it was becoming for her to summon a fireball these days. Instead, she threw her fireball over the caravan guards and into the crowd of bandits.