As soon as Signy has Riftun off the dance floor Lina grabs him to take him right back out again.
That isn't what usually happens when someone spots a bad dancer, didn't she she what happened?
Signy watches them in amazement as things... don't get any better at all. She supposes she should have tried to say something to Lina, but there was no time, and speaking up right in front of Riftun would have been terrible mean.
It doesn't take long Lina flees, taking refuge with Akiros for some reason.
Signy raises her cup and takes a solid pull from it before picking up Riftun's cup and taking it to him.
Riftun fumbles and bumbles about the dance floor like an absolute buffoon with both women! Constantly second-guessing himself, stuttering and doing the same step over and over, and so profoundly awkward he keeps removing his hand from the women's hips all the while remaining as rigid as a board. The boy's eyes dart around and he sweets, even more so with Lina's awkward 'it's not you, it's me' explanation after the dance as realization slowly begins to dawn on the young man that he will never be a competent dancer.
As Lina says her parting words Riftun reaches out to thank her for her efforts but his hand only finds the cup Signy proffers him instead. He sighs staring deeply into the mug, "I-I'm really sorry I was such an awkward dancer Signy a-and I hope it didn't ruin the wedding for you." The bard frowns.
"B-But, for what it's worth, I did have a lot of fun! I-I've never really danced with anyone before and today I got to dance with my two good friends who were kind enough to try and teach me. I-I'll always treasure this memory." He smiles softly before bringing the cup to his lips and drinking with a sense of grace and decorum that belies a noble upbringing.
"Oh! I do hope it's okay that I think of us as friends! I-I don't mean to impose I just really like you guys, you always make me feel so welcome and included, it's a nice change of pace." Riftun exclaims looking up suddenly from his mug.
Akiros, meanwhile laughs heartily at Lina's outburst, giving away his current partner to another dancer to give the elven woman his full attention. "To be honest, I was trying not to look. It felt like something you wouldn't necessarily want others to see." He shakes his head, his greying locks tussling about the sides of his head.
"I wouldn't worry over-much, the lad has it in him to be a fine dancer he's just clearly over-thinking. He needs to let himself go in the moment and a whole lot of self-confidence to get him there." The former paladin nods knowingly in the red-headed bard's direction. "But aye, I'll be more than happy to teach you all a thing or two. Not now though. I imagine there will be plenty of time after the ceremony."
----------------
Soon enough it is time for the actual ceremony to commence. Svetlana has been hurried off to her secluded shack and takes a few hours to get ready. When the time comes Meneas awaits her in a simple carriage, ready to whisk her off towards the big event.
Meneas' skills at driving the horse forward are flawless and leaves for a smooth ride even over the dirt roads to the trading post where now hangs a freshly carved sign above the entrance reading, "Oleg & Svetlana's Trading Post" correcting a long overdo oversight in the original naming of the place of business.
Rows of spectators gathered on either side of the impromptu isles turn to watch as the cowled knight helps the blushing bride down from her carriage. "Oh Meneas dear no hoods at he wedding." She chides playfully as she squeezes his hand in thanks and begins making her way down the isles, beautiful bouquet of stargazer lilies in hand and tears of joy forming in her eyes as she gazes ahead to her waiting husband staring at her in an oafish bliss as a lovestruck teenager might look upon the girl he fancies.
Signy quickly takes over, as Meneas finds a spot in the aisles, and escorts the beautiful bride in her stunning, though simple, dress the rest of the way towards her husband and Jhod, the newly redeemed cleric of Erastil with a surprisingly serene expression given the man's usual grumpy demeanor.
Soon the two have made their way down the aisle and Signy moves back out of the way opposite Oleg's best man (Brental) as the Levetons turn to face one another, loving smiles on their faces. A perfect matching pair.
After a moment Jhod clears his throat to command the attention of the yard turn to him as he begins the ceremony. "By the grace of the Elk Father we are gathered here, on this day, to bare witness to the sacred reforging of the bonds that bind us more deeply than any other. That of family and the sacred ceremony which brings two houses together into one. That of marriage."
He pauses here for effect, allowing his words to sink in before continuing. "It is an honor to be here today to bring these two Oleg and Svetlana Leveton closer in the eyes of our lord Erastil. For though they have remained steadfastly loyal to one another through thick and thin they have thought it rational to reaffirm this bond given the tumult of the past few months in front of the eyes of their community... I am inclined to agree."
He nods with a slight smile upon his face. "The couple have prepared their own vows for one another which shall accompany the exchanging of rings. If the ring-bearer would please."
Riftun practically bounces up to his tippy-toes as he realizes it's already time for his part. The young bard reaches into his pocket and fumbles around for a second before pulling out the waxen creation Signy had made for him in his moment of desperation. Giving it a soft squeeze he exhales, getting all the excess energy and stress out in one last breath before smiling thankfully at Signy and making his way up to the Levetons who smile graciously as the young man approaches.
Lifting the waxen structure between his hands Riftun begins removing the rings when, suddenly, an ear-piercing scream rings out from Svetlana between the fingers of her hand as she attempts to hold it back before Oleg can pull her close in his arms protectively shielding her with his own body.
The waxen creation slips from Riftun's fingers and cracks upon the hard-packed earth by his feet, the rings rolling apart in either direction as the young man stands transfixed by a gore covered arrow erupting from his chest.
"Oh, oh no..." Riftun whimpers feebly reaching out towards where the rings had fallen before the last of the light leaves his tear-filled azure blue eyes and he falls lifelessly to the floor.
Brental's eyes dart up to where the arrow came from and spots a man with flaming crimson hair, almost appearing as though it were living fire, appear to apparat out of thin air atop the palisade wall by the entrance. The brass skinned man's longbow still pointed in the bard's direction as his amber eyes meet Brental's own.
Kesten barely has time to react before three blasts of fire come streaking for him. He just manages to get his shield up in time to protect his face even as the intense heat from the flames wash over him. "Men form up! We're under attack!" He cries out to his subordinates who all rush to cover the entrance to the trade post as several more brass and bronze toned men and women begin converging on their location.
The last thing anyone sees is the young Vlad rushing forward towards the Levetons and attempting to push them back to safety before the strange war-painted man atop the palisade wall completes his ritualistic dancing and gesturing and blows a handful of ash into the air which quickly spreads beyond imagining and covers the majority of the courtyard robbing you all of sight as the ash rains down endlessly from the sky.
Meneas does hear a serious of horrendous screams and intense heat as the gathered guards are all consumed in waves of flame unleashed from the quickly mobilizing soldiers' extended arms.
At least one of the figures collapse amid the screaming while several other party guests move about as best they can in the ash trying to get a sense of the situation.
Meneas briefly hears Peri cry out to Tyg and what sounds like old man Bokken muttering a prayer of healing towards the front before he can bring himself to move.
During the wedding, Meneas waves away Svetlana's comment, chuckling softly.
Once the attack occurs, Meneas is surprised, but not terribly so. Figures. He grabs his sword, readying himself, and moves out of the cloud. He takes a quick glance around at the figures, before selecting one and lashing out with his blade at the closest to him.
Meneas exits the ash fall like a specter emerging from s misty tomb and strikes out with deadly efficiency burying his blade deep in the chest of one of the men that had just spewed forth deadly flames on the valiant guards protecting the perimeter of the trade post.
The bronze skinned man gurgles and spits a quantity of blood out at the cowled man before collapse dead in the dirt.
Meanwhile both Mekmek and Akiros seem to reach deep and find their inner anger, summoning forth mighty roars and battle cries, the former blunders about in the ash while the later rushes out to join Meneas at the head of the fray.
With savage might, the veins pulsing about his neck Akiros carves another man in twain with his longsword spraying blood and guts about in a glorious shower of death and savagery.
Jhod chokes in the ash and reaches out to find anyone he can, groping blindly in the ash. "By the gods, this is madness, anarchy! Lord Erastil please watch over us and save us from this madness!"
Signy throws an arm around Riftun's shoulder.
"Of course we're friends Riftun! You didn't ruin anything at all. You made the wedding more memorable for me. if you're having fun, I'm having fun."
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
The attack is so sudden and surprising Signy shocked into inaction at first. When she does start moving she is stunned by the randomness of their attackers, who are nothing like anyone she's seen in the region, and her near certainly that Riftun is dead.
Signy is also unarmed except for the dagger strapped to her thigh beneath her dress. She needs her bow and she needs to get out of the ash cloud to see anything, so she starts making her way toward her weapons.
Whimsical and sappy as she is, once the main event gets under way, Lina watches enthralled from her spot. It does look like everything’s going to turn out alright – until it goes much worse than bad luck with various artistic ventures.
The sight of poor Riftun ruthlessly shot down leaves her stunned for a few moments as spells fly to cover the advance of the attackers, until she determinedly sets the shock to one side. Although she has her long dagger at her waist and, of course, no belt she owns is without at least a pinch or two of spell components attached, Lina catalogues with forced sang-froid that she is unarmoured, only very lightly armed, and judging by the bursts fire and ash, with her most broad-targeted prepared spell likely of limited use.
Right. That sort of day then, she resigns herself, trying to get ready for the likely cuts and bruises she’s almost sure to collect. With what she hopes is a show of confidence that is both intimidating (to foes) and reassuring (to friends), she concentrates for a moment to call up a magical shield before heading towards where she last saw the gates of the trading post before the conjured ash smeared through the sky, gently encouraging any guests she bumps into on the way to get behind her. As she passes one of the prettied-up carts decorated for the party and serving as a catch-all for various supplies, Lina grabs an unopened bottle of wine that looks like it will have enough heft in her hand.
After a nerve-wracking few seconds, she finds herself at the edge of the cloud just inside the gates, beside Bokken – she thinks – and a pace behind Kesten and his guards. Still a bit loopy with shock, she actually says the ridiculous idea that flashes through her thoughts out loud: “I just made this dress! If any of these idiots leaves it in a state that can’t be sorted by a bit of prestidigitation at most, I’ll kill them twice over.”
All seemed to be going well, and so Brental was caught completely off-guard when he watched an arrow pierce poor young Riftun's chest. The druid's blood runs cold and he looks up into the amber eyes on the palisade. His own eyes shift crimson.
What in the rotting, gods-damned earth was this?
Brental was under no impression that they had vanquished all possible foes in the region, their fledgling kingdom, but this was unfair to Oleg and Svetlana. What cause could these strangers have to attack so suddenly, so brazenly, so viciously?
They had not even formally established the kingdom, and here their prospective fellows were already under attack. If they could not defend them here and now, then what good could they possibly do as rulers?
Well if these attackers wished to die this day, then Brental would grant their wish.
If they can see through this ash, we need to take cover...
"Oleg, Lana...are you okay?" he says, trying to keep his voice calm while anger burbles up within him. He reaches out to where he last saw Oleg. "Follow my voice and, quickly, inside. We'll defend you and your guests."
The druid reaches out his hand. Within the ash, the dust begins to feel charged. Essentially unseen, the druid waves his hands, chanting as the dust coalesces and a smell of ozone permeates the area. From his hand springs a 4-foot-long, blazing, forked bolt of electricity.
"I had hoped to save this for a performance after the ceremony," Brental says. "But I have someone to kill first."
With a whistle to his mastodon to move forward and smell the enemy, the druid stalks ahead to where he can hear screams and melee.
Svetlana's wavering voice replies to Brental through the smoke and ash, "Brental? We-we're alright but that boy... and now all this ash and- I just don't even know what's happening!" She cries.
"Do whatever you have to do to get rid of these bastards." Oleg's stern, collected voice calls out above the clamor of battle as he holds his wife tight. "I'll see Lana to safety just don't die out here." He grunts before attempting to get his wife as far away from the front lines as possible as the rest of the party guests run about blindly in search of cover from the sudden ambush, crying and screaming in terror as they do.
At Kesten's rallying cry he and his remaining men surge forth to take on the enemy casters directly in melee where they will have the edge but the enemy are prepared for them. One deflects the blow from a weakened guard with his scimitar while the other is unable to over-power the warrior before him and takes a significant gash to the chest, spilling crimson blood on the ground but still the fiery man stands defiant.
Kesten, at the same time, erupts from the storm of ash with a vengeance, his wounds fully healed. He plunges his longsword into the metallic-colored flesh of an ash painted woman. The woman screams out in agony and yet just barely manages to stay on her feet as she bleeds heavily from the grievous wound Kesten has inflicted upon her.
"By Abadar I know not where you've come from but I'll be sending you back there in pieces for this you scoundrels!" He cries.
The burning legion take the opportunity to turn their opponent's momentum against them as more of their troops begin pouring in to join the fray including a sizable, scarred, and literally smoldering Komodo dragon.
The blows are mostly deflect but a wounded soldier does manage to take vengeance upon the guard who struck him and with a flash of his scimitar the man's neck is opened wide. A short gurgle and spray of blood is all that heralds the man's demise as he collapses into a heap at his enemy's feet.
It is difficult to see but Meneas does manage to just hear the leader of this band chanting atop the palisade fervently, "Stolen Lands please, grant me your strength. Bring unto me your fiery servants that I might protect you. Save you from her wicked machinations. I hear you, now please hear me."
Meanwhile Bokken as Chief Sootscale stride forth from the ash to join the front. Bokken lays a hand on the last, severely injured guard and mutters a few arcane words of healing as a white, gentle light comes off him and seals the man's wounds.
Tyg and Peri also seem to both vanish entirely into the ether.
Meneas glances over to his left, grimacing behind his hood. If more of them can do that fire thing, I'm going to want to take them out first.
"What the hell are these people?" He calls out, before charging forwards to attack another. Even as he does so, he has the wherewithal to reflect that he really hates fighting without Veil. With that, he is once more engaged in melee.
Meneas charges forth with much bluster and bravado! Even without his mighty steed the cowled knight proves himself a force to be reckoned with as he hacks away at one of the new arrivals. Flesh is severed like a hot knife through butter as the fiery man cries out in anguish barely able to keep to his feet.
Some feet away Akiros lets out a blood-curdling scream as he literally rips through another of the fiery foes in twain with a hefty chop with his blade.
Shockingly the others make no move to flee and show no fear even as the blood of their ally fountains forth upon them.
Signy bumps into a bench a couple of times, and nearly falls into a fire getting there, but she finally make it to the right building and feels her way to the door.
She rushes inside, glad to be clear of the obscuring ash, and negins arming herself.
Despite the ash in the air and piling underfoot, and the confusion of the melee just ahead, Lina keeps her balance, and stalks out of the swirling debris to take her place in the line.
The bottle makes the show a bit less impressive than she would like, even as she brings it down over the head of the nearest attacker.
Almost a shame, that, she thinks, as it shatters at the end of her forceful swing. She can almost see the exaggerated expression of dismay Alaïs would put on if she were present to witness the waste.
While Brental faltered, losing his footing in the driving ash, his calf had been able to push his way forward. Thankfully, no one sees the druid's tumble, and he doubted much that they could hear his embarrassment over the much more serious sounds of carnage all around. He growls, standing up, and looking up to where he last saw the leader chanting and waving.
He was...calling for aid from the Stolen Lands? But why? What gave him the right to call on these lands for aid and to attack those who had done nothing against him? Brental was willing to give him a chance to answer for his crimes, but he needed to stop him first.
"Vodnykel...anfalla!" he cries, sputtering amidst the ash.
The mastodon scuffs his growing feet on the ground and rushes head first into the wooden wall, aiming to knock the man off from his perch, or at least jostle him around enough to potentially break his concentration on whatever summoning spell he seemed to be trying to conjure.
Lina's improvisation with the bottle proves more than a match for the weakened enemy who only barely has a chance to look up wide-eyed before the bottle smashes over their face. The impact is staggering with what was, surely, a very well made bottle and the foe collapses in a heap of his own blood much to Kesten's amusement.
When Vodnykel slams into the palisade with such incredible force, the young mastodon manages to send the whole structure to shaking violently. The leader of the enemy forces cries out in shock as he just barely manages to maintain his footing on the structure but looses his spell in the process.
He quickly composes himself and cries out into the ash, "Brother Brental call off your companion! We seek the same goals, the protection of this land! Do what is right here! Preserve the balance! Remember that I told you to let the embers guide you! What do they say now?" The man shakes his head vigorously before chanting another summoning spell, a notably smaller one.
With a flick of his blade Kesten quickly dispatches the woman before him and moves to intercept the enemy advancing from the west.
As the foe attempt to retreat to cast their spells from range the expert swordsman slashes again, catching the foe just under the shoulder where the man's hide armor was the thinnest and causing the burning man to shriek in pain. Still, the damage is not enough to prevent the two druids from issues forth new flames at their armored foe in recompense. The man just manages to block most the flames away with his shield, however and the damage seems fairly minimal.
Meanwhile, as the komodo slips past the carnage and into the ash cloud, the druids around Meneas begin to surround the man to the best of their ability.
Meneas manages to deflect the first attack from his wounded foe and dodge the man attempting to grab him to his side but cannot avoid the enemy behind him who sets a hand on the cowled man and causes him to combust into flames!
At the front of the action the last guard and druid each slam their weapons into one another in a savage contest of might, neither willing to give ground despite heavy losses.
Chief Sootscale's reptilian eyes see Meneas engulfed in flame and rushes forth to lend his aid bringing his bone club to bare on the man's hip a loud cracking can be heard even over the man's screaming as Chief Sootscale smirks.
Bokken, at the same time, attempts to channel more healing energy into the injured guard whilst looking around, wild-eyed for the next sign of trouble.
Meneas feels the heat erupting around him, even as his skin is already burning from the attack. He bites back a scream, instead emitting a low moan. Still, he fights to keep focused, attacking Chief Sootscale's foe himself.
With that strike, he turns slightly, circling around his foe to get out of the encirclement that his foes had managed to wrap him in.
With Meneas' full attention on his many foes the man has no time to put out the fire burning away at his cowl and yet, despite the pain, he is able to follow up Chief Sootscale's attack with a well-timed slash decapitating the bent-over man in a single blow.
Akiros aims to be rid of the enemy at the gates as he rushes in with a bestial roar swinging his longsword with the raw strength of pure anger.
But the path of his attack is highly predictable and the last of the front-line druids doges it with surprising grace only further enraging Akiros who howls in frustration.
Now armed, Signy runs back out, going to the right around the building to avoid the ash cloud....
Ugh! Lina really doesn’t like finding herself embroiled in a brawl with the back end of a broken bottle for her most obvious weapon, but beggars can’t be choosers.
However, she’s not quite that desperate yet. Using the handful of jagged glass as a distraction, she sidesteps to give Akiros some flanking with the last intruder that’s close to hand…
... before hooking her leg forward, and unlike poor Riftun, whose feet she was careful not to shatter, when it came to it, bringing her heel down with ruthless dispassion as she sets her foe off-balance. Except now, as her maneuver is unexpectedly successful, she's not aiming for a foot.
When it's clear that she's got breathing room, Lina casually discards her broken bottle and finally, finally, sweeps up a scimitar from one of the fallen druids(?). It sounds like that might be what they are, from what she catches of the words being shouted at Brental.
Listening to the voice again and hearing his voice called out specifically, Brental pauses. Was this...Salazar? Although he couldn't be sure, as they had interacted very little, if it was him, he would be a high ranking member of the Green Faith, and one of the fire-worshipers. Brental had always been a bit uncomfortable with his fire kin. Theirs could be, and often was (evident in the current situation), a very different understanding of balance than what he shared. Fire could be a cleansing force, as important in maintaining the health of a forest as a good rain. Sometimes controlled fires needed to be set if a lightning strike did not deal with it naturally. But this?
The aasimar keeps his voice as calm as he can as he responds to the elder druid, but his anger betrays him as he continues. "How is an unprovoked attack on the people living peaceably in these lands protection? You draw the ire of human, elf, kobold, and fey! The embers tell me that there was no death or rot to cleanse here. So then why?"
Brental moves forward until he nearly runs into the komodo dragon. Eyes wide, he holds his trident of electricity out, prepared to attack.
Meanwhile, Vodnykel shakes his head, having successfully shaken the wall once. He ventures out of the ash cloud and witnesses the komodo going back into it--presumably towards his master! He circles around Bokken and gets into a flanking position with Brental.
Lina's opponent is thrown entirely off guard by her off-the-cuff approach to combat and thus when she brings her heel down on the back of his neck the druid is able to do little more than gurgle as his mouth fills with blood. He falls to the ground choking for air before he is mercifully taken in by the Lady of Graves.
Meanwhile, the last guard charges forth to join his captain over on the western front and manages to catch one of the druids completely by surprise decapitating the man in one fell swoop of his sword and sending his head cascading through the air!
Emboldened by his followers' success Kesten cheers out a battle cry and plunges his own blade into his final foe's stomach, disemboweling the druid with prideful glory! Just in time to see another wave of foes, this time familiar human bandits lead by a single druid.
On the east another group approaches, also led by a druid but this time composed of spiteful little mites!
The man identified by Brental as Salazar grimaces at the anger in Brental's eyes as he addresses the metallic skinned man. "Fire may cleanse rot and infection but it is also of use to ward off predators. This land it is prey to those in the north and should it fall dark forces beyond your comprehension-" The man is cut off when he witnesses Vodnykel strike at the komodo dragon.
Salazar sneers, "Tsk." and finishes his summoning spell bringing a creature of elemental fire forth from the spirits of nature to block off the route to him just as Signy is making her approach.
"So, the prophesy is true... You have chosen blood over bond! You turn your back on the way of the Green and our people! You leave me no choice." He growls.
"Vulcan anfalla!" He cries and his komodo dragon gnashes its razor teeth in response as his companion directs the fire creature to attack as he works on another summoning spell.
The reptile sinks its teeth into the underside of Vod's neck when it finds an opening bearing down with a disturbing level of coldness as Vodnykel trumpets in pain. The creature's venom beginning to flow into Vod's body the mastodon begins to panic stomping about wildly which only causes the hissing reptile to tighten its grip.
The small creature of fire hisses something incomprehensible at Signy before slamming its sizzling and crackling body at the woman. The impact is hard but what's far worse is that her dress bursts into flame spreading as the small creature cackles in delight.
The two new druids murmur words of celestial might and steam begins rising from their mouths.
Kesten raises his shield just in time to intercept two incoming arrows from the rough men accompanying the druid on the west and then has to turn his attention to holding off the other three bandits with his sword and shield. "Blast it all!" He curses as sweat pours down his brow. "It looks like they brought in some help from the last of our old foes!"
Meneas must also hold off the blows of two druids while a mite catches his eye in the corner of his perception, the creature's eyes bulge and the cavalier is immediately filled with a familiar existential dread.
The other mites try a similar strategy with the two kobolds but fail to overcome either of the Sootscales' iron will.
Chief Sootscale reprises this attack by leaping high and cracking the injured druid over the head with his bone club splintering the man's skull and leaving him as a crumpled mess on the floor as he advances towards the new foes.
Meanwhile a puddle of grease seems to miraculously form under the longbow wielding bandits causing them to slip and fumble to the ground even if the druid does manage to maintain his stance.
Bokken rushes towards the injured Vodnykel murmuring a powerful healing prayer under his breath with hands outstretched easing the beast's pain.
Meneas feels his breath coming in short, hard gasps - the pain of the flames licking his skin and the sudden dread filling him. "Mites!" He tries to say more, but his teeth clench in agony as he moves too close to the fire on his clothing. Instead of continuing to attack, he steps back, throwing himself on the ground to roll in the hopes of getting rid of the fire
He didn’t put much stake in 'prophecy', per se: Magdh, Pharasma, and other prophet gods were more likely wise with eons of insight, or else playing their chess games to ensure their preferred outcomes in events. Brental could predict weather or reason out someone’s most likely reaction to an event, but he was no prophet. OG.
Brental didn't pay much attention to notions of prophecy or fate. OG.
Whether people actually had true autonomy or not, it was helpful for many to believe that they had control. If you felt like your life was outside your control, it could be easy to blame your circumstances on someone else, or to lease responsibility for your actions to the whims of fate. Forces beyond your control. You could fully rebel against such ideas, or embrace the natural order regardless of where it led, finding your place within the tide. OG.
What. Gods. Damned. Prophecy.
Brental thinks about the vague and cryptic letter than he had received days before. "New information has come to light. We will be seeing you soon. The right course of action will become apparent then. May the wind, the leaves, the birds, the waves, and the embers guide you."
He had thought that this was in reference to taking on a leadership position, shepherding these lands along against predators from within and without.
Was the "right course of action" to turn tide on the people he had been sent to live and work with and slaughter them? How was that apparent? Could the Oakstewards have not made themselves clearer? And even if they had ordered him to be a double agent, to attack his allies...would he have refused?
He had been taught to listen for the Will of the World, not to pay attention to dogma. His superiors were wiser and more experienced, but they could still be mistaken. The practitioners of the Green Faith were no monolith, and even the Oakstewards' hierarchy accepted differences in opinion. Or at least they had. Or perhaps Brental only thought they had.
"Is this the Will of the World? Or the Will of Sevenarches? I remain committed to the Way of the Green. I remain committed to our People. But this is madness! Can we stop and speak? Why choose violence over mediation? Where is Porphyra? I wish to speak with her about this!"
As Meneas turns to retreat, Mekmek covers his friend and moves to encircle the druid with his father. The kobold raises his spear, cold reptilian anger glinting in his eyes as he shouts, "Hot-head may have fire, but is no Fair-Dragon!" With that he shoves his spear up through the man's chin and into his brain ending the man's life instantly and eliciting a war cry from the kobold barbarian and his proud-father.
Akiros charges forth valiantly to fight side-by-side with the guards absolutely savaging one of the bandits who had made to surround Kesten and throwing him into a blind panic.
"When the wind has set the fire on its blazing path it does not stop to parlay with the trees. This land must be protected, the only way to do that is with the deaths of everyone here! I take no pleasure in this but I will not hesitate to do what I must." Salazar snorts. "Porphyra is busy attending other matters... You have one last chance to do the right thing, to serve the Will of the World. Slay the Levetons, the envoy of Brevoy, and any who would stand with them. Or prove that damnable priestess right."
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Underneath her outrage and horror at what the day has brought forth, two competing currents swirl through Lina’s thoughts as she’s caught between multiple fronts. Meneas aflame, another fire of some sort bursting out on one of the watchtowers – Signy’s position, she guesses – all against the backdrop of a tremendous cloud of ash. The dramatic part of her has to approve how neatly it would appear on stage, but quite apart from the injustice of the attack, in the end, there’s no question that the herbalist in her wins: all her reservations about fire and the weirdos who love it get a bit more support.
As she assesses the situation, giving the scimitar she’s just acquired a quick swipe to get a feel for its weight, she can just see Vod and Bokken getting to grips with the enemy leader’s lizard: she’s sure Brental must not be far away either, so that seems to be well in hand, all things considered. As the cavalry (chivalry?) rush to intercept the bandits, the witch sees no way through the scrum for herself, and this is the one time she doesn’t have her long spear to hand!
Something of the rival druids’ leader’s ranting filters through.
"Stolen Lands please, grant me your strength. Bring unto me your fiery servants that I might protect you. Save you from her wicked machinations. I hear you, now please hear me."
“Hey! I haven’t even started my machinations!” Lina protests. She’s not actually vain enough to believe that she’s meant, but she is obnoxious enough to pretend.
The two new druids murmur words of celestial might and steam begins rising from their mouths.
Noticing the actual druids, though, draws her attention to the latest arrivals, and she makes a snap decision, regretfully, that Meneas is just going to have to hold on, though she does have a spell for him, and it looks like he might need it, poor fellow.
For now, that murmuring looks unpleasant, so Lina angles her sword and races full-pelt at the druid leading the mites, a battle-cry tearing from her throat.
Signy really liked her dress. She thinks she should drop and roll to put the fire out, but she's too mad to do it before sending a response. She steps back 5' while finding the fire element's center, and sends an arrow at it.
Brental's throat feels dry with the ash, and his mind whirls. Just through the ash cloud, he thinks that he can see poor Vod in the jaws of the komodo. Salazar orders him--orders him--to kill Oleg, Svetlana, and Riftun. Everyone. His allies. His friends.
If he agrees--and survives--then he could return to the Order, continue his training, and grow in esteem and power. He could develop his understanding of the Will of the World. And perhaps he could guide the Oakstewards some day.
And if he refuses--his relationship with his brethren may well be shattered. Could he return home, or would he be hunted down? Could he ever attend another Moot of the Ages again? What would become of the life that he knew?
Casting his mind through the ash cloud, Brental empathizes with Akiros even more now. His rage. His despondence. What would it mean to see your entire life unraveling before you like this and having to make a split-second decision? To accept authority and have your life and reputation destroyed, or to deny authority and be hunted forevermore? There was no right thing, no good choice in this. Either choice would undo him.
"I may be young. I may be wrong. I may not understand. Give me ears to hear that I may hew closer to the Wyrd. But I refuse to believe that this is the only way. You may abandon me, Brother Salazar, but I will not abandon the Green. I will find my own place within the Tide!"
Brental lifts his sparking trident and plunges it towards Vulcan.
Within the dragon's jaws, Vod thrashes about, slamming his trunk into his enemy and trying to score it with his tusks.
They would not fall this day...
Lina rushes forth and plunges her blade deep within the chest of one of the last druids. Steam continues to pour from his mouth even as he scream in agony yet as the sword is removed he remains on his feet.
Signy's arrow plunges straight into the center mass of the small creature of elemental flame and seems to pull a great deal of its flaming mass out its back, weakening the creature considerably as it roars in elemental fury. Still, the flames that envelope her are taking their deadly toll.
The trident plunges into the flesh of the komodo dragon causing the creature to hiss and violently convulse as the electricity sparks through its system and yet, if anything its death grip around Vod's neck only tightens making it so that Vod's desperate attacks scrape meaninglessly off the beast's thick scaly hide.
The final guard valiantly fights on, swiftly ending the life of the bandit Akiros had just charged and moving on to the next foe.
Making excellent use of his guard's positioning, Kesten encircles another bandits who had been trying to do the same to him. With a swing of his blade he severs the man's spine from behind causing his opponent to fall limply groaning to the floor.
Salazar grimaces, resigning himself to what he must now do at Brental's reply. "Very well, I shall see to it that your ashes are brought back with me to the next Moot." He replies dispassionately as he finishes his ritual summoning forth another small creature of fire to surround Signy.
The flaming creatures lash out with crackling sputtering flames and yet the inquisitor is too nimble for either of them to catch.
Salazar cups his hands together and blows into them forming a thick black substance between his fingers. Was it some sort of mucus? No! Brental realizes at the last moment as the ball is thrown at him that the substance is burning tar.
It is too late, however, and the druid finds himself utterly coated in the searing tar which burns at his flesh and hinders his reflexes.
Meanwhile, the fierce komodo dragon throws all its muscle into strengthening its bite on Vod pushing the young mastodon to the ground and pinning it there as it rips savagely away at Brental's companion's throat, blood matting his soft hairy coat.
At the same time Lina is managing to fend off her druid but Kesten is less fortunate as the druid steps forth from the grease puddle and slashes the man with his scimitar across the face leading Kesten to roar in frustration as blood pours from his wound.
The remaining standing bandit tries to capitalize on this by flanking the injured captain of the guard but Kesten manages to swiftly deflect the blow with his shield, still maintaining his combat awareness even in this state.
Lina has her own issues, dealing with a barrage of mite darts being thrown into her fight with the druid. Most are far astray but one mite's dart manages to catch her in the clavicle drawing forth fresh elven blood.
Chief Sootscale attempts to aid his elven friend in taking out the eastern druid but his foe is too nimble and bends out of the way of his bone club with little effort.
Old Man Bokken attempts another spell but curses and spits at the dragon as he finds himself out of his magical capacity for the day, knowing this he retreats back into the ash.
The other druid, however, seems suddenly overcome by some odd sensation as he drops his weapons and stand smiling pleasantly off into the distance.
His efforts to put out the blaze useless, Meneas growls, standing with the help of his sword and moving as quickly as he can to join Vod and Brental's battle.
The appalling sight of her target taking her sword slash across his chest but still hissing out his steaming incantation unsettles Lina more than she would care to admit, especially when he manages to turn his own weapon against her in the next moment, under the cover of a barrage of darts from the mites.
It’s a near thing, but she’s just able to narrowly deflect his blow from her side, and she promptly reverses her stroke to try to get under his guard in turn.
Lina, in an example of grace under pressure, slips her blade under the opponent's guard slitting his belly in reprisal for his attack. The man releases a blood-curdling scream and falls to the floor bleeding out.
Mekmek, meanwhile, turns heel at the sounds of the mastodon's distress at the entrance to the trading post. "Mekmek is coming big long-nose boar!" He cries as he rushes the komodo with his short spear.
Unfortunately, the kobold is left sputtering as the thick cloud of ash and cinder blinds him to his foe and makes his fearsome strike miss.
Akiros attempts to make up for his ally faltering by stepping forward to take on the last standing bandit.
The ex-paladin finds no small amount of success as he tears the foe in half with a primal roar causing the remaining bandits on the ground to scream in terror and attempt to flee.
Jhod continues his slow trek through the miserable ashen wastes at the center of the trading post. Under his breath he utters a powerful prayer to his god and Erastil responds in kind. A blast of healing energy erupts from the disgraced cleric soothing his allies wounds.
Brental hears his poor companion braying in pain, even as he is covered in burning tar. As a being supposedly descended from angels, the druid could resist many forces of nature. But fire wasn't one of them. It stings, but Brental feels the soothing relief of Jhod's channeled blessing. Brental had to admit that the old Erastilian knew what he was doing.
For his part, Vodnykel would have earned himself all of the apples in the Stolen Lands--no, in Helikia--that Brental can find for him. They just had to survive this.
If Salazar was intent on bringing ruin, then Brental would take Vulcan down with him. He does not respond to the older druid's threats. Their conversation appears fully finished at this point. Brental hefts the bolt of lightning sparking in his hands and stabs it again into the komodo. "Let! Him! GO!"
Vodnykel tries desperately to escape, between the bounce back and forth of brutal savagery and blessed healing.
Brental just hopes that the others are doing okay...
It’s dreadfully shallow of her, as she would admit herself, but mites are not the sort of fey that populate the stories that Lina devoured enthusiastically when she was even younger.
A decidedly less youthful smile curves her lips – the sort of thing that haunts the horrible tales orcs tell their children about elves, rather – as Lina considers that one of the things she has learned about mites is that they burn.
She returns the druids’ favour to their underlings with a sweeping gesture and clipped words sparking with arcane power.
The furthest mite is out of reach, but getting any closer would put her, well, too close to the nasty little things’ darts than she would like, so she cuts her losses and hurries back towards the gates hoping that she’s not too late to help Meneas.
Signy might have been angry enough about being on fire and her ruined dress to grit her teeth and try to finish the fire elemental before doing anything else. But two fire elementals are just too much.
Signy runs to the edge of the tower and jumps, tucking into a roll when she hits the ground.
Lina's gout of flame absolutely flambees the vast majority of the mites who erupt into a crowd of screaming little fireballs before quickly succumbing to the flames.
Brental manages to find the reptilian creature once more through the smoke and ash with his shocking trident. The beast hisses in agony as the lightning circumvents into tough hide and sends the reptile's muscles to spasming.
Meanwhile Signy manages to skillfully extricate herself from the midst of the flame elementals and put out the fire that had begun to overwhelm her without receiving much more harm than a sprained ankle in return.
The final druid can hardly keep his footing against the concerted onslaught of Kesten and the final guard. His guard is eventually broken by a strike by Kesten allowing his last man to get a good hit in on the fiery man's stomach though he remains standing and even takes advantage of the guard having over-extended himself to carve into the man's shoulder showering the area in blood. The guard fights on though his situation looks grim.
Seemingly frustrated with the healing of any damage he's delt, Salazar molds a ball of flame in his hands and tosses it onto the ground where it shockingly rolls forward rapidly at Brental.
But Brental's reactions are honed, quick like a skittish squirrel he dodges the sphere entirely much to the druid-lord's chagrin though the flaming ball remains.
Sensing his master's frustration Vulcan releases the struggling Vodnykel and lunges at Brental but the druid leaps out of the way with grace under pressure.
One of the remaining bandits manages to get up and make a break for it at the same time as the final mite decides his life is worth more than this and sprints off into the distance.
Meneas slaps the fire out of his clothes, finally managing to get it under control, before taking a quick look around the battlefield, before grimacing. I don't... push through it. His heart races, and he steps into the edge of the cloud, attacking Brental's foe. Despite his best efforts, he misses, the cloud of fear in his mind and of smoke in his eyes preventing his blow from striking home.
Mekmek joins in on the attack on the komodo eagerly and yet, even though his spear finds his foe through the ash it cannot pierce the beast's scaly hide!
Signy is quickly on her feet, and is amazed to find the pair of fire elementals already on the opposite side of her moving away. She fires off an arrow before preparing to give chase.
As she gets closer to the gates, Lina notices that the fires on the watchtower now on the edge of her peripheral vision seem to have gone out, so she guesses that Signy has that well in hand, and as she keeps going herself, sees a looming figure that can only be Meneas – charred, but no longer on fire either, and, as far as she can tell, miraculously (or magically) little the worse for wear, all things considered.
Also, kobolds and mammoths and who knows, with a bloody great lizard somewhere behind all that, and, again, her without a weapon that gives her the necessary reach. Though, there is still that other druid ranting from the edge of the gate, and flinging magic about in a way that makes the witch rather jealous, if she’s honest with herself.
Before she can talk herself out of it, Lina latches onto a terrible idea. She does her best to skirt the reptilian melee, noting the hot spot of a rolling ball of fire in the midst of the ash cloud with some alarm as she jerks to avoid it.
Despite the shifting piles of ash and the drifts obscuring her vision, her instincts are good, and she easily maintains her footing.
Just before she plunges into the depths of the ash cloud she levels her best glare at the fire druid, and opens her mouth. “Oi! Aschenputtel! If you’re quite done tormenting folk who’ve never done you harm in your life, why don’t you try us on instead!? Mano-a-womano? Face me!”
Lina has never sold a fish in her life, but her diatribe would do an ἰχθυοπώλαινα proud. She’s also rather tickled, herself, with her scornful disregard for the right construction of words as she calls the villain out. Proper language would be wasted on a lout like this. But clearly, if this whole Helikia business takes off, she’ll have to think of how to phrase more ladylike threats.
Maybe they can hope the tide has turned, at last. Optimistically, as she disappears into the swirling ash, she asks the gentlemen surrounding the foe’s pet poisonous lizard, “If you don’t mind, I would appreciate some help with dissection again, in due course. Just a heads-up, thanks!”
Feeling his allies surround him more than seeing them clearly, Brental twists and turns out of the way of flame and snapping jaws alike. A swell of emotion rises in his chest.
"You're all alive," he says, relief ebbing from his voice. He lifts his bolt of lightning again and strikes back at Vulcan. "For Helikia," he says quietly to Meneas and Lina as the smell of ozone mixes with the smell of ash.
Finally released from the death grip and panting from the bounce back and forth of injury and healing, Vodnykel lashes out against the creature that had been the cause of so much pain.
Signy's shot, unfortunately, missed the mark on the small fiery incarnations, sailing overhead and carrying on for a time before embedding itself in the dirt behind the elementals.
Signy manages to dodge the first elemental as it comes forward to seek reprisal for the blond woman's attack on it but the second creature gets a good shot in on her gut causing the woman to groan in pain and yet, she pulls back in time to manage to avoid bursting into flame once again.
Meanwhile, Brental zaps the komodo dragon once more causing the creature to hiss, wretch, and spasm violently. While Vodnykel is having surprisingly less success, able to hit the creature yet not pierce its scaly hide as it snaps back at the druid full force.
The druid is forced to steady himself as the reptile's razor-like teeth slice into the muscle oh his legs and he can feel the beast's venom surging through his body.
Lina is met with her own challenges as the flaming sphere collides with her directly, emerging from the ash unforeseen and badly burns the woman as Master Salazar sets his ashen storm back up just as it begins to subside.
Unfortunately, despite their best efforts the final druid manages to slice down Kesten's final guard ending the man's life despite the fierce barrage of attacks he's dealing with.
The final bandit manages to get out of the Grease and flees to the south as quickly as possible.
In her concentration on moving quickly while retaining her footing, Lina’s attention fatally slips away from the hostile druid’s fireball, and it rolls in from behind her, catching her off-guard.
It definitely recaptures her attention now, even as, mercifully, by some hidden antipathy, though she's wrong-footed by the spell, it latches above all onto the cold iron at her hip, which flares with heat for an instant before the blade quickly dissipates the energy. Standard evocation. A flaming sphere. Classic, I'll give him that much. And he must be at least about as powerful as we are...
The rolling fire isn't as clinging as one might fear, so she keeps moving forward as soon as she can jerk clear, for now, teeth gritting against tight skin that she can almost feel blistering already, but grateful that nothing's actually on fire. Her next words to Salazar are going to decidedly more ... expressive, though, and possibly only chasing a sword's edge.
Meneas growls, his blood pounding in his ears as he attacks again. This is useless. Why the hell am I even trying?
Signy draws and shoots twice after stepping back for a bit of distance from the pair of elements. She sticks to her original foe since she has the advantage there.
While Meneas continues to struggle against the blinding ash and his own emotions Signy finds more success piercing the injured elemental with her second shot. The creature cries out and disperses in a pop of soot and embers and now there is only one foe.
Mekmek attempts, once again, to stab the scaly beast but is met with only frustration and failure as he is still unable to pierce the beast's hide.
Once again, Lina finds herself torn between several directions as the battle rages across the trading post. Somewhat reluctantly, though happy to put some distance between herself and the flaming sphere that’s just surprised her, she presses on in the hope of finding a spot that gives her a clear vantage on the enemy leader.
She races through the section of ash cloud ahead of her as fast as she can safely go, picking up speed as she breaks clear, and swerving to take the steps up to the wall, turning abruptly there, eyes searching, searching - and finding Salazar still perched on the other side of the gate.
Well, alright then, she thinks bringing up her sword in front of her, and her free hand ready for a quick spell, waiting a moment as she watches, wary, in case the druid sends up his rolling fire after her.
Brental cries out in pain as the dragon bites into his leg, hefts his crackling bolt, and continues stabbing away. He can hear the others stabbing and slashing away to little effect. It seems like his bit of elemental might is the only thing that's working, even though it can do comparably little.
Vodnykel unleashes a frustrated trumpet as he continues slamming away at his hard-to-hit opponent. The walls reverberate with the peal.