Obtaining Divinity, part 1

The sea-way journey to the angels location was a frenzied one. At the halfway mark, a vicious storm blew in, sleet and hail raining down upon the fleet that sailed ahead. One ship had already capsized, its sail struck by a bolt of lightning and catching fire, burning the crew that didn't drown in the frozen waters.

To your own storm magi, it was obvious that magic barred the way. Thankfully, these were not the gales of the peace barrier that had long fallen, and while another ship sank to a watery grave, the rest survived (though not always in one stable piece).

Your own vessel made landfall two days later than the first to strike shore, revealing the storm had not lightened in the slightest. Only the dogged determination of an undead army could fight it in it without being truly ruined, the cold enough to chill even magi.

Perhaps more worrying was the fact that your undead had encountered a great deal of resistance. Soldiers bearing blue plate and magic to counter them. Soldiers manning the walls of a fortress that had not been allowed to succumb to the worries of time.

It seemed the angels hadn't been content to leave this sealed being unguarded.

Tim was a little sea sick, he'd never been on a boat as of yet. The muscular oscuri let his massive clammy hands sit on the edge of the ship as he looked over in awe at the spectacle before them.

His eyes settling on the blue plates of the soldiers. Through the storm he only felt an ominous presence, one that weighed heavily on his chest. With a slight chuckle, he flexed his pectoral muscles, lending a hand wherever it was needed for their arrival to the coast.

He said little to nothing, trying to overpower the queasy feeling of his gut churning.


"Hoo… leg day!" He mutters through the rain pelting his muzzle.
(Tim Cobblestone)

The hardships were more than expected.

It is why Arthur invested so much in this trip, it is why quite the army was brought to the shores of this island- and while the ship sailed closer and closer to the shore, the Adjudicator could note certain details about this island - the blue-plated soldiers, all geared to combat the Undead that were sent against them. There's no doubt that this was guarded to prevent any sympathizers of Azraelite religion from breaking out this angel, considering that they were geared for such.

And that suggested the Dark Angel is locked somewhere far.

"Krausites!"
"Prepare your weapons!"

A single proclamation of Adjudicator, and before even truly setting his feet on the shoreline, he went forward to begin seizing the Storm, along with the new technique he's being studying so meticulously. The Shields, the bodyguards of the Rowan stood before him, guarding from potential arrows trying to hit him - the nature itself raged in his hands, stretched to the heavens, and the attempt was made to direct the Storm against the defenders that stood on this very land.

With that, a rising, stretching hydra of water, intended to conjure a prison of liquid over time. It was sent to bombard the walls that defenders stood upon- even if it were destined to fail, he sought to remove as many defenders as he can, or at least find out the weakness.

It's clear that they would not giver up their defences so easily, and that the presence of this Undead army could not be tolerated. That meant they're the enemy.

That meant the fight awaits.
(Arthur Rowan)


Two days later.

 There are some things better left unsaid, most of which, considering her own situation with the Rowan. About her own findings amongst the boat...Other things, mostly lost upon the fact that war was happening upon the shore. So soon. Terribly soon. She imagines that this effort only pushes the agenda forward...That in hopes of things getting worse, that it might possibly become better by the end. All in all, the serious aspect stays just as it is...Her own frame standing at the edge of the boat, brilliant, glowing wings dimming as the rains pitter-patter atop of her head.

 A kitana gleams...The incandescent colors of the realm bleeding out only briefly as she closes her eyes. "War." In the end, unlike the others...She says her own prayers, not particularly interested in any god...But instead, lost within the thought of what might happen shortly after.

"I hope the rest of you are ready.." When told to prepare her weapons...She awaits with her blade drawn, her body slipping carefully into a low stance, muscles and sinew flexing- as if she could launch herself at the shoreline at any given moment.
(Bei Rowan)

He hated boats.

The rocking and turning, the rumbling waves that crash against the sides. No, Farin hadn't much fear of anything in this world any longer but, as he understood it. The world here was anything but natural.

And the waves, the storms, the flagrant and obvious dangers that came ahead. They had him looking from side to side. The only saving grace out of this was that he could hover and not have to touch down, legs on the wood, feeling the nasty, unnatural ichor of this place.

He really hated boats.

And it was obvious that they were coming into something that even Farin hadn't seen. spritual beasts were far too different in comparison to something like angels. Regardless.

The undead armies, the rebels willing to stave them off. It was where he lived. On the battlefield.

''Anything to get off of this boat.''
(Farin Wray)

Tanahu clung to the rails as they left land behind. He seemed no more eager to set foot on the island after they finally reached their destination.

Bitter cold worse than the mountains of Baukdengrad nipped at him beneath his cloak as the Shenlong came ashore. The red drape clung to him under the weight of freezing rain and only shifted for whipping winds which plastered the young man's hair against his brow and kept his hands out of sight.

Only when he saw the hot war unfolding in front of them did he dare grip the sword at his side - they'd arrived to a stalemate, and Tanahu cast an apprehensive gaze up at Arthur as he walked in the man's train.

"This will turn the tide against Huangzhou?" he asked in a voice muffled by the pitter-patter of bitter rain. His slitted eyes turned towards the distant walls, bony besiegers, and blue-clad, timeless defenders...

"How long have they been fighting already?" the young man murmured.
(Tanahu)

As always, what more could one anticipate when venturing out to lands unknown than hardship? Countless adventures had always allowed for one to rely on instinct in order to understand the path ahead more often than not. As they make the voyage so much crosses the mind, and while much had not been answered in the days which pass they are still greeted with strife nonetheless.

Still, he finds himself just a tad bit more sated by the ongoing chaos which is inflicted by the ongoing battle. Anticipation leads to eagerness, any means to leave the boat was something that the fox would have to take.

As soon as they touched land he'd be awaiting instructions, patience surprisingly practiced despite the oncoming strife that'd come to him once again.

"Hmn, I can't say I'm not excited."

This was a refreshing change from the idle conversations in the woods..
(Ludovic Grauhimmel)

There were bodies upon the shores, both yours and theirs. A makeshift warcamp had been established, though none had truly come prepared for a siege. There were no trebuchets or catapults, no siege towers or ballista's set up. Soldiers stood in perfect formation, lined towards their enemies, outside of what they'd figured out as their maximum accurate range.

You weren't the first necromancer to land, and yet you saw none of these blue-clad soldiers raised in your ranks. Some were on tables, carefully prodded, dissected as if they weren't human.

"Adjucator, sir." One of them approached you as you landed, directing your attention to one such corpse in a tent near your landing zone. "I thought you might want a report on the situation. As you can see, there's a fortress standing, almost in the perfect center of the island." Beside the corpse, a rough-shod sketch had been made of the island, the fortress in the center with a smaller fortification outside it.

"There's some kind of magic in the air negating our necromancy. We thought these men similar to the Nagual at first, but when some of our own living fell and we couldn't raise them... It raises issues. Thankfully, the undead we brought with us don't seem to be afflicted."

What was expected to be a quick search through the island, now was among perhaps some of the most responsible tasks that he's ever had yet. Not only his own progress was hanging on a thread, based on how successful they will be, but also the lives of countless soldiers here- both living and undead- and whether they will return home or not.

"How many do you estimate in their ranks, roughly? A hundred? Two hundred? Three? Five? Up to a thousand?"

"What about magi?"

The Adjudicator did not waste any time. Approaching the sketch of the island, as well as the relevant markings on it, the scarlet eyes carefully darted upon everything behind the mask. It's no doubt that these men were, in fact, Krausites, or perhaps Urayans, or any faction that despises Necromancy - and has developed means to counter it, too.

"More than likely someone forcing the souls to go to the stars. I would assume that it's the Lifestream tricks of one very, very talented magi, or a device of sort."

It could be the hostile Arcane. While Arthur considers such option, he does not voice it - as far as he remembers, the power of Arcane is most active upon Agartha. This was not Agartha.

"What have you attempted so far?" - a brief question to the reporting soldier, and he beckons to the rest, - "Come. We will devise a plan of attack."

"We cannot linger here for too long. Name your suggestions, if you have any."
(Arthur Rowan)

We cannot revive our soldiers. This is something that brings terrible, terrible curiosity and wonder...For she has heard of this magic before, but never did she witness it being used within practice. Banishing the undead was mostly used by exorcists...Capable of forcing the spirit to pass on, rather than allowing bits and pieces of itself to linger. All in all though, the woman looks elsewhere in thought...Hands folding carefully behind her back- her teeth grinding carefully together.

The blessing of undeath will not exist here. Unfortunate, but most certainly something that they'd have to work around. It also means that they must be much more careful with all things that they do..

"Remain focused. Pace yourself.." Her words to herself are simple, breathed as if it were some sort of 'mantra' to keep her calm.
(Bei Rowan)

Tanahu follows along to study the map in tense silence. His questions went unanswered - new ones come to the man behind a furrowing brow... "If there are gates," he supposes, "Is there any way we might get inside and open them to the attackers?" He shoots a last, grim glance towards the stronghold walls before joining Arthur in looking at the advising soldier.
(Tanahu)

"They have magi among their ranks, but they only made their appearance when we first landed. The exorcists struck hard, but when more ships landed, it became apparent that we outnumbered them greatly. If we could get inside, or atop the walls, we'd win in a day. But, there's another problem, the storm."

He motioned with a piece of chalk around the outskirts of the fortress. "The hail picked up to lethal effect as soon as we landed. It's a barrier, they don't have the magic to blanket the island or we wouldn't be standing here, so they defend their walls with it instead. There are more than a hundred, though no more than two, soldiers, perhaps a dozen of them magi. None like any of you, at least not that we saw."

He drew a line to the second fortification. "This is a sentry tower, and when the hail began, the top of it clouded up more than the rest. I think it's the source of the barrier."

And the plan immediately appeared in Arthur's mind.

It may not be the perfect plan, and it may lead to casualties, but wars are won with men and blood- even if they had the time to devise any schemes as much as they wanted, it could always go wrong - the battlefields are chaos, and no matter how much you plan, something will go different.

"Launch the assault on the sentry tower, first."

"It's smaller, and it seems to be less protected than the general stronghold. I will draw their fire by summoning Storm upon them, and I will need Ludovic next to me to assist by raining fire on them as much as he can."

"In the meantime, Bei, Farin, Tanahu and Tim will breach the wall from unprotected areas at the sentry tower, lead the squadron inside and disable the barrier. Bei will need to explode the wall with her magic, then you can sneak in - after you disable the barrier as a whole, you will need to open the gates to us from within so we can storm in and disable it faster."

"Considering that the fire will be drawn upon me and Ludovic, and they will need to defend their front, they should have difficult time protecting themselves from sabotage that happens inside."

"Any questions?"
(Arthur Rowan)

It was obvious that they'd be moving to do the power moving, the more physical powerhouses of the group. That wasn't what really made him wonder, it was Arthur and Ludovic remaining on their own.

It brought about danger, but--he had to trust in their abilities. Considering that this wasn't the first time their lives had been on the line.

''We'll get it done then.''

He looks to Bei with her golden wings shining.
(Farin Wray)

Tanahu turned his grimace from their advisor up to Arthur was the plan was laid out. The young man flexed his cold fingers around his sword and cocked his head back slightly with an unassuming question:

"Adjudicator - if we can control this barrier... could it be brought within the walls to kill more of the defenders?" With only a best guess to go off of, was that really the question he needed to be asking? Tanahu swung a quick, slitted gaze towards the fortress.

"...if it can be, should it? And how should we let you know when it is fully disabled?" the young man asked.

"...if so."
(Tanahu)


 "Got it."

 Shouldn't be much of a problem, right? Considering that she, Farin, and the others are capable of brute force...Then maybe, it shouldn't be too difficult. "Capturing it shouldn't be too hard...Or atleast, opening the area once more. For now though, ah...Just tell us when to head out."
(Bei Rowan)

Arthur Rowan says, "Once we're in possession of the barrier, Tanahu, we'll see what else can be done."

Tanahu silently nods. He casts a look between Tim, Farin, and Bei before turning back to face their advisor and the path ahead.
(Tanahu)

"I should warn you, they have something powerful guarding the tower. We sent soldiers - who were immolated when they reached it. The fireball could be seen from here, though you're far more powerful than a few soldiers." The necromancer spoke grimly, turning to the body.

"There aren't any boats, no docks... I think these people live inside that fortress." He muttered, looking over the corpse. "What a horrid existence, stuck to one island. Command of the soldiers is yours."

"All more reason to grab Ludovic with me. He's a fire mage, and he will be able to redirect that fire - even if he fails, I'm a water mage myself to stop it."

"And all more reason to draw their fire from the sentry tower until the others breach it from within. Let's move out."

As such, the Adjudicator took a sizeable part of the army for assault with himself, directing a smaller squadron to prepare the ambush with Bei, Ludovic, Tim and Tanahu. Their job was perhaps a far more important one - for if they were not done with it in time, Arthur's and Ludovic's lives could be on the line if the enemy decides to advance and leave their position.

The army marched, the thud of the boots echoed. The carnage shall begin once again.
(Arthur Rowan)

Bei Rowan says, "Hm..Might be best to move as one cohesive unit but.."


Bei Rowan says, "If you wish to go separate ways, then fine."

Arthur Rowan says, "This is only to take their attention. You will be able to breach it all faster in that case."

You marched to the pouring rain, through a bog of mud. Many would consider it a personal slice of hell, the kind of wet cold that sank to the bone, that no fire could warm.

Thankfully, the island was not a massive one, and so neither was the march. In only hours, the tower was in sight, standing tall of marble. The gate was a wondrous thing, a lattice of Nyeshk and other metals lining over the wooden body. It was sure to resist near any siege weapon - though the walls might not be so durable.

As soon as you came close, arrows impacted your position. The air was warmer at the tower, with the dangerous crackle of lightning sparking through the rain. The grass was burnt away, revealing black mud and skeletons, their equipment turned to melted slag stuck to their bodies.

That was to be expected.

Approaching the tower of marble, Arthur was ever so cautious. The mud, the dirt that was covering the land as a whole, it made marching quite difficult perhaps, but thankfully, the Dawn denizens were forged in war before - and manipulating the Undead made it all even more synchronized. A familiar string echoed in the air, and immediately--

"Raise the shields!"

Tink. Tink. Tink. Tink. Tink. The sound of arrows hitting the shields was apparent, and within the moment, the Adjudicator forged a Storm above them to strike against the tower. Evaporating the liquid beneath them, he made for a cover of mist for the rest of the forces, to ensure that this fight will be reduced to nothing but a simple dogfight.

An exchange of arrows, of spells, but hardly allowing any either side to advance - unless, either stops attacking.

"Move through the mist I made, they won't spot you easily. Get to their walls, blow it up and open the gates from within. Start the fighting too so we could advance."

"You have your orders, go!"

Reliant on Ludovic to provide no less fire support, he stood by Kitsune's side, bombarding the opposing army with all that he had in his arsenal.
(Arthur Rowan)

The dampness around his boots fled into the air. Crashing lightning, whipping wind, and slicing water tore at the edges of his cover where they beat against the defenders on this front.

The boom of thunder shook Tanahu from his stupor. Ever since the arrows started whistling through the air, the Shenlong had stood transfixed - he'd ducked behind one of their skeletal vanguard, but to no avail.

Was this what it felt like to be shot at? The Shenlong gripped a bony shoulder, pulled himself out of the drying muck, and threw his gaze to the left of their column -

Beyond a wall over there, their tower awaited. The lightning magi took up a great breath and pushed off into the mist. He stopped on a bent knee, turned, and called out before his boot could sink - for their part of the attack, time was of the essence. His slitted eyes sought her out, and his voice strained to shout against the storm.

"Lead the way, Lady Rowan - we will cover you!"

He might not have known where they came from, but they were no idle words - the armor she'd told him to get so many years ago now glistened in the rain and wrath of the sky.
(Tanahu)

Tim flashes his pectorals. His coat gets ripped off and his muscles sprout forth. Rapidly the pinkish fibers snare around his arms, his torso and his legs. He was a hulking oscuri ready for action. He moved with a purpose taking in the information that was just relayed to Arthur.

If he died, there was no coming back.

The hearty oscuri laughed as they got to moving. His only thoughts were on the dome, and the other teams success by their performance. He was going to put his heart into this to ensure he got to at least get a glimpse of the target.
(Tim Cobblestone)


She did not smell the scent of oils - therefor, there was no reason to react to the fire arrows in a voracious manner. Instead, she ducks beneath the shields themselves - wings and winds wrapping around her frame as the arrows collided with the shields themselves - creating rhythmical tapping that'd spell doom for any regular magi. Tink, tink, tink. It was like real war in times such as this...Within the mud and bog, within the rain - travelling amongst dead bodies....She is almost reminded of the battle within the snow, where she had nearly lost everything against her foes...

 Nevertheless, her movement is as slick as one might've thought it was. The wings dissipate into nothing as she ducks underneath cover to be fully hidden by the mist until she's close enough.

"Understood." It would be rather impossible to go unnoticed with the sudden charging of her own abilities. The pale light of proxima goes through the mists themselves....The intense, silver flames would suddenly consume her body as muscle and sinew tears briefly. Crrkkt.. The subtle change of draconic weight could be heard as muscles compress upon bone...And with the sudden launching of the woman, covered in flames and glitz, it'd seem that she'd collide directly into the wall...

 If succeeded, if only briefly, all color within the realm would suddenly fade. For a few seconds - all that can be seen would be in black and white...As if her own strength could cause a wound in reality.
(Bei Rowan)

A solid plan, and something he expected nonetheless from Dawn's Adjudicator. With the aggressive approach taken, the fox simply considers the reliability of such, and hums softly as the undead prepare themselves for a ranged onslaught, the raising of shields allowing for the fox to take a rather safe position as well.

With Arthur having created cover for the others, Ludovic simply amassed his focus, allowing for the mana within himself to swell and give life to the violent flames which now danced about his body. If the plan was to assist in the onslaught of the front lines, then the fox made it his goal to engulf the opposition in flame.

He needed not gauge whom it was he burned down, so in short, he'd give it his all. To ensure that the masses went down as quick as possible while the others moved on to complete the mission.
(Ludovic Grauhimmel)

He'd use this opportunity to move forward, but not until it was required. To rush in now, like this while under fire would be far too dangerous. Far too disasterous if they had gone down hill.

So, Farin bides his time. A trait that had begun to surface more and move as things progressed. Bei is the key to this, as she is the only possible source of power that could achieve such results.

Even with his connection to the realm of spirits, he could not amass such bright, hot energy. So he waits, and when Bei does finally move. He is soon to follow her.

He wouldn't allow her to fall, here. Even if it means being a shield to keep her safe as he would expect someone to do his own mate. Arthur was trusting him.

(Farin Wray)

The arrows came, alight with fury, crackling against shields of the undead. And then the counterattack came, and screams could be heard. The stream diminished, but did not halt. Holes in the walls, defensive things for purposes just such as this, spat the things out as well, and while your undead were well armored, they were not invincible.

Worryingly, whenever an arrow struck one, the undead seemed to die almost immediately, regardless of where it was hit. Investigating an arrow, you'd find an odd rune carved upon it, the magic used up, channeling some kind of anti-necromantic energy into the body. Enough to ruin even a raised magi, were one to march.

When Bei slammed into the wall, Cold Iron runes lit up like flashing lights, shaking and cracking under the immense pressure. Still, it did not give. This was how they defended against magi, with antimagic. More, they sparked as others added their magic to the assault, with a crack appearing in the facade...

It'd take more than that to break it. More than could be safely given.

Above, something rumbled in the clouds, a low gurgle.

Experienced Magi that you are, you know that breaking the walls will drain viciously, but will take less effort the more that help. The results will be far less severe - but more widespread - if others aid her in breaking down the wall, while one could avoid injury entirely by shirking...

At Arthur's position, the air begins to heat up in preparation for something terrifying.

Damn it all.

That's where the chaos of the battlefield comes through. That's where he knew that something unpredictable could happen- he knew of something that would counter Necromancy, but the arrows with runes attached to it, to remove the Undead from existence almost immediately?

Unfortunate. There's nothing that he can do other than yell out the order, while the Rowan seems to be conjuring something else. Clearly, a counter-magic effort to whatever attempted to heat up the air around them - but first thing first, the order was given.

"All of the living Knights, take step forward and raise your shields!"

"The Undead part of the garrison, take up bows and crossbows and begin shooting at them!"

A simple switch in position, really, but not everything that's genius must be complicated. He figures that the runes that hit them- as much as their mechanism is not fully familiar to Adjudicator- do damage the Undead. Thankfully, he was a runescribe, a master at that - it was not hard to figure out.

As for the spell? A coat of the water, a conjuration to provide humidity, akin to a water prison that did not intend to drown them, but protect them, while his gaze turns to Ludovic - raising the humidity within by allowing water particles, and the barriers of water from outside, it was not perfect defense, but...

"Ludovic, control the temperature within!"

"Extinquish any fire that you can see! Our archers will continue firing at every opportunity, but do not let them burn us!"

"We need to last until they breach the wall!"
(Arthur Rowan)

Tanahu followed Bei's bright-lit silhouette into the mist as the world washed out all its color. The arrows fell on the soldiers, not on the magi -

The Shenlong ran all the faster to catch up with her, and the walls only got taller, stronger, more impenetrable as he got close enough to see them. His screams pierced the air just as a glowing, blue light gathered in Tanahu's shaking fist.

"We cannot afford to wait - we must take it down!" He called out to Ludovic and Tim before, with a thunderclap of his own, Tanahu disappeared.

Electricity leapt across the battlefield in a wicked arc until, with all its momentum, the Shenlong appeared at the wall. He slammed into the barriers with an open fist, a blinding flash, and stone-shaking thunder before dropping back to the ground.

He looked up with wide eyes and a manic, fanged snarl at the incredible metals and magics - their enemy. Would it be enough?
(Tanahu)


Boom. Colliding against the wall is most certainly something that she normally wouldn't do. However, given the circumstances...It seems that she would be forced to have downtime amidst the battle until she could do it again. The recoiling effect of her magic takes precedence within the form of blood carefully traveling from her lips. A mild 'cough' from the sudden tensing of lungs before she readies herself up once again...Her voice lifting.


"This is anti-magic, Arthur! I need more!" It wouldn't be enough. No, he'd have to do something that's rather overwhelming...They all would need to breach the wall with their own combined might. Regardless though...Once again, she could be seen making distance between herself and the gate....

 For a second time, the drakaness would launch herself forward to collide with the fractured area of the runes- slamming into it once again beside Tanahu.
(Bei Rowan)

Farin reaches into himself, seeing Bei struggle. She wasn't going to cut it alone. Though she was a mighty force to behold. It just was not going to be enough to wear this down.

Tanahu was already acting, and that was great. It seems he had some merit to him after all! Farin's body begins to glow with even brighter lights, the shimmering stars around him remniscent of the cosmos.

The popping stars gain in numbers as he drives himself forward with the lot of them, slamming into the wall at breakneck speed.

The Mysticism aided in giving him a push, and he uses it to disrupt the unnatural order of this magic resisting substance. Injuries be damned.
(Farin Wray)

Such a command was easy enough. Where as a once offensive stance is taken, the fox quickly focuses on ensuring that their forces were to last. The flames which once cut through the offensive line before them are quelled by that of the Grauhimmel's control. Quietly, he murmurs beneath his breath, his conscious strained by the exertion of his own energy.

Though still, he presses on. His mastery over the element of fire would not allow failure, and yet the increasing temperature within the air did call for his attention. He'd continue to keep note of it, to not allow himself to miss the critical moment in which another attack would be hurled at the advancing ally forces.
(Ludovic Grauhimmel)

With a vicious explosion of magical power, the cold iron was overcome. With so many magi splitting the burden, there was no true threat. Fatigue? Absolutely, but nothing that sleep couldn't cleanse. And they were within, magi sweeping through the outer walls. Cutting down men armored in silvery blue, greatblades in their hands.

They did not fall easily, each fighting with the skill of a veteran, their plate runed and enchanted even for those without the benefits of magic, but they fell nonetheless, dragging down as many as they could, leaving the gate free to open...

The air screamed, and the gurgle turned into a full-fledged roar. You couldn't see what unleashed it, only the result. An arcing blast of golden lightning, zipping from bolt to bolt, so fast that it scorched the air behind it -

Another explosion rocked the area around the gate. Men screamed as their armor melted. Even with Arthur and Ludovic's preparations, only they were truly spared the lethal effects of this blast, the mortals weren't nearly so lucky. Metal ran like butter, flesh sizzled and the air soon filled with the stench of ashy pork.

It was hard to believe when he stood before it, but they breached the walls. Tanahu looked between Tim and Farin with newfound awe, appreciation, and dumbstruckedness for the moment before terrible battle met.

A horde of blue-clad defenders awaited them. Soldiers swarmed in behind the breachers and joined the fight. Tanahu finally drew Shiken from its sheath, and he met with several of the well-armored warriors in close clashes as they held their beachhead.

A brief pause in his own battle let him wheel around and look in horror as, over the walls, hellfire lit by golden bolts struck down the diversionary force. Only the two leading magi who'd opted to stay remained at the eye of a terrible storm -

And yet still, hundreds more soldiers waited behind. Tanahu wheeled back around as if in slow motion. He looked into the breach over the bony white and metallic blue heads of clashing, dying forces. He felt the cold air, warmed however it might have been, sting his lungs as he caught his breath from their assault.

They had their mission.

"The tower!" he shouted out. His mythril greaves clattered against a fallen warrior as Tanahu shouldered into the melee and stumbled towards the great, marble pillar.

Again, he looked to Bei - with more urgency than ever. "We have to get to the tower!"
(Tanahu)


Rugged.

 If there is one thing that incites the pride of the Drakanite - it is the ability to break through the impossible. It is the ability to persevere against all odds and shatter even the runes themselves through collision and brute force. In times such as these, the valiant roar of the predator is given - Her draconic features enchancing further, silver scales loitering flesh, gleaming with the silver light of proxima. Perfect. And now that they're in...It seems that they'd be able to give others the hell that they've been waiting for.

 At this particular moment...

 She would go through with the plan at hand - despite being fatigued and tired, her own wings would carry her forward, brushing harshly against the rain-beaten winds...Rolling forth as the smell of burnt flesh and undead fills her senses..

"It's open..!" Surely, it'd take more than just brute force to take the tower but...The moment is done is the moment that they can be able to control a larger portion of this war entirely. "Watch for traps laid- Don't lose one another..!" For now, while hovering off the ground...She could be seen making dash towards the marble pillar.
(Bei Rowan)

This is the casualty he imagined at times of war.

A horrible, horrible scorching that left so many dead, but such were the defences that were ahead of them. It's a good thing that he brought an army with himself, and while the losses would become apparent as they increase in number over time, perhaps in the end it would all be worth it.

Hopefully.

But the gate was free to open, and as such, Adjudicator began shifting the defensive barrier they made. He was a master of the mixed casting, one that included the power of symbolism, the precision of the runes and thoroughness of the mind, and the quickness that comes with the spells learned by heart- as such, the wave of static Telekinesis was created ahead of them, made to deflect projectiles, and the shout followed.

"Advance! Now!"

He hoped that they were too quick to lock down and target with such horrifying magic. He hoped that the garrison could move to the tower quick enough, to bypass any outside defences that their enemy might've prepared - he hoped that he would make it in time.

"Breach the tower and kill on sight any hostiles! Move up the tower and secure the barrier device! Secure the gate to block out any possible enemy reinforcements!"

It was his role to command. To ensure that this goes as smooth as possible was a difficult task, but a task that he would take upon anyway. If he stopped coordinating his forces even for a moment, this all could go terribly, terribly wrong. He cannot allow that to happen.

And what they meet within the tower? That yet remains to be seen.
(Arthur Rowan)

''We've got a fight coming our way!''

They knew that though. Burrowing into the base of this area, it was filled with people who looked like they knew exactly what they were doing. That was no easy task, considering the lot of them were quite skilled.

Even Farin knew, it'd be one heck of a battle that they were going to face getting to the point in which they needed to. Still, it only seems to generate a joy from within him.

On the battlefield.

''Ready yourselves! Bei, don't worry, I've got your back!''

He doesn't say it to the others, he isn't quite as familiar. But the notion extends to them just as well.
(Farin Wray)

Thankfully, the scent of burning flesh was not something that the kitsune found himself unattuned to. Countless battles served as a well of experience, and when it called for his instincts to pull through, the fox had done so with a sense of precision that could only be contested by few. The flame which dances about his fingertips flow excitedly, eager to lay waste to that which would serve as an obstacle to Dawn's advance.

With Arthur's call to breach the tower, there was little else to question in regard towards their future. Ludovic is ever cautious with his approach, but nonetheless quick. The smaller grunts of this skirmish would be met quickly, there having been no intention to slow from here on. If their intentions were to seize the tower, then he'd do exactly that.

With no intention to stop, his goal from there on was to regroup with the powerful magi that had set their sights on victory.
(Ludovic Grauhimmel)

Tim slammed down into the earth, his hands and arms quickly covered with stone and bits of metal. His muscular form over taken by the earthen shell. He smirked, rushing behind the group with a feeling of bliss.

Having never fought along side them, this was something to cherish to the muscular Alpha male. He roared and then slammed his fists together. He was right behind them all read to support them in any way that he good.

His green ley-lines shined brightly on his skull illuminating his chef hat for all to see.

A green beacon atop a veiny rock like golem heading right into the fray.

"ITS COBBLIN TIME!" He roared.
(Tim Cobblestone)

There were yet soldiers outside the tower, walls to man against their own forces - your warriors had their job cut out for them. Some came, but the bulk could not. The defense of the tower had hinged on its walls, not the innards, and that was apparent in the sheer numbers that remained.

You were the spearhead that kept moving. The rest would stay to ensure it didn't get cut off at the haft.

And so you advanced. The air crackled with menacing energies, the stink of ozone, the thinness of height. Winds howled, and you felt as though you'd been forced to the peak of a mountain. The tower was spartan, possessing only what was needed for soldiers to inhabit it. Empty weapon and armor racks, bunks, food stores. The occasional soldier to cut down, growing less frequent.

And then a ladder to the top, ominous in how unguarded it was.

All of it was done to secure the tower for themselves, and thankfully, when the tower was breached, there was hardly anything for the defenders left to do- it was becoming obvious that the sentry tower was mostly geared for the defence from outside, to bombard whatever approaching force would dare come close.

But they made it inside.

From there on, only Arthur's bodyguards walked with him, the most honed veterans in the most exquisite gear that could be allowed for non-magi, and the rest of magi were called upon - it was the supposed meet up spot for the six of them, now that the tower was breached.

"Let's go! The fight for this tower isn't done yet!"
"Whoever has fired this golden lightning is no doubt atop the tower, and no doubt it's a powerful mage. Only we can handle him."

Even Arthur's bodyguards at some point were left behind, and instead, a squadron of Undead was summoned. While the Undead were sturdy enough to take a lot of hits, he knew that a non-magi, no matter how powerful, would likely just die from this.

It would be a shame to see them die so soon.

With his defences raised, fully prepared, the Adjudicator advanced at pace as quick as possible that would yet allow for the scan of the traps. Should it turn out that there are such within, he's prepared for it, always on the lookout around his surroundings - the experience from previous expeditions caused him to be like that.

Now to seize the tower. Entirely.
(Arthur Rowan)

Only we can handle him?

That was certainly right. But the true question wasn't on if they could or couldn't handle it. The desire to fight was there no matter what. Even if they couldn't.

The question was if it was even of their world, able to cause destruction like that. Wiping out fleets. Completely. Gone.

He couldn't name a single person, not even Tragedy, that could do something like that. As much as he wanted to believe it.

''I've got a bad feeling about this.''
(Farin Wray)

Movement.

 She would follow in line...Perhaps, preparing the party for what might've seemed to be an obvious trap, especially since it was a ladder. Luckily for her, she wouldn't need to be the needed to grasp onto it...Instead, her wings would take her upward. Necessary shields and precaution are taken into place. The unnatural barrier of magic shielding her, accompanied by scales....For now...She's prepared for any assault that might suddenly shoot their way, especially since she seemed to be the one more 'capable' of taking the brunt of the attacks.

 "We've got this.."

 Or so, she believes...
(Bei Rowan)

A massive crystal staged atop the tower, its perch like a throne to cast over the rest of the island. Above the clouds, above the island you were staged. You could see the ocean from here, the storm, the glittering hail that struck your forces, like ants marching.

There was no magi atop the tower. Infact, there was nothing.

A gurgling came from the clouds, followed by a violent *whoosh* of wind. Something terrible was coming.

You had seconds to prepare.

Tim Cobblestone exclaims, "Ho shit... whats THAT!"

Farin Wray says, "A trophy."


Ludovic Grauhimmel says, "Doesn't look edible."
With a brief flash of blue light, Tanahu put down a guard on their flank. He clawed at his collar and underneath his own arm trying to get under his breastplate for something, but the armor remained well-sealed against their opponents so far.

With a grimace, the Shenlong cleaned the blood off on his cape. Then, he joined the queue to the top of the tower.

All too quickly, he wished he hadn't. It rumbled and hissed. The man wheeled about to face the strange thing coming out of the sky -

"What is-?!"
(Tanahu)

Tim points up to the cloud as he moved behind them and then gave a sly grin toward Farin.

"I'm not jumping up there... haha!" He jests.

Then Tim moves a bit closer, his rocky armor stacking atop his muscles. What in the world was coming? He got a little too close it seems.
(Tim Cobblestone)

The golden lightning, coming from nowhere. Could it be...?

No, this can't be Divine. This couldn't possibly be Divine. An Angel guarding another Angel... how outrageous, how ridiculous. And yet, by the second, when he began realizing the power that just struck their forces, the power that was seemingly invisible, he could not find any other explanation.

Or maybe heavens themselves did not want them to succeed.

"Fall back! Hide behind any cover you can see! Raise any defences you can manage!"

But the Adjudicator hardly fled, rather following behind the crowd. This was his element, his skies. He is the Storm mage, damn it all - and even if the unseen force wanted to strike them, the Rowan would strike back.

The Storms, the beckoning of lightning, of high pressure, of quite literally everything he could throw quickly was directed at it. What, did he hope to defeat it so easily? Of course not. This was beyond his power. This was beyond his comprehension. But perhaps, just maybe, maybe it will stagger or get slowed down... just maybe.

But what else there was? There was nothing for them, but hope, and the warning of something terrible coming down. They had to brace themselves for whatever is coming.

And have faith that they will come out alive.
(Arthur Rowan)

Everything seemed to be a matter of mind over brawn, and such is where the fox typically excelled when he'd not fallen prey to his own habits. The thought was to prepare himself for whatever that structure would bring upon the lot of them.

Nature curls about his person, not yet taking root but instead opting to cover the flesh of its source. A subtle breath, and what follows after is but to observe the few seconds in which they'd been offered to prepare.

Something told him however that it'd be nothing easy, nor nothing that they'd be able to brush aside without a bit of sacrifice.

That typical notion caused the Grauhimmel to scowl, while he readily braced himself for the incoming issue.
(Ludovic Grauhimmel)

"It's coming."

 If there was one thing that she notes...It is that this will most certainly be quite the experience and endeavor. For now, she sturdies herself with her own racial aspects. Once again, does the voracious transformation occur...Her golden wings beginning to pulse with impossible power - only to sudden dim from the silver scales that erupt into existence. She fully becomes enwreathed with what seemed to be 'steel' as she braces herself for the impact of the heavens...

 Unfortunately though, she cannot see any cover...Save for all that they could possibly offer themselves. But what she can do is prepare herself for the very attack that might be headed their way. "I'm ready."
(Bei Rowan)

The gurgling stopped, and for a long moment, silence reigned...

A terrible roar broke it, cast from lungs as large as any man. Bestial, feral, the challenging cry of something that had never known threat to its existence, never known anything but sheer power.

A massive figure shot from the clouds, gliding on wings that could flatten a ship with their beat. A golden glow was all you noticed before it was upon you, crashing down onto the tower, nearly crushing Tanahu under claw.

It must've been forty feet long, covered in ancient, rippling scales. So carved with runes that its body glowed like a lighthouse beacon, nearly blindly, holy magics burning at you, purging. Flames, wind, lightning...

Before you crouched the apex predator.

Before you... A dragon of untold size.

Tim Cobblestone says, "That's a big ass tail..."


Farin Wray says, "I told you, a trophy."

Ludovic Grauhimmel says, "Ahh, I want to eat it."
Tim was just as close as Tanahu but, not THAT close. He was nearly taken aback as the powerful gusts of wind battered his stance a bit. This thing nearly had every holy magic at it's disposal...

From what Tim could tell. He would have to try and sell the meat from the Dragon before it went bad. Perhaps Drakan filets or tenders for a week or two... Then work the rest down to Jerky.

The iron chef secured his hat in with straps and then bulked up in size as his power surged violently. He was ready, he had to have that tail, his jaw salivated behind his muzzle as he thought of how he would lug that giant thing around.

"OK, JUST REMEMBER YOU SAID IT'S A TROPHY, I AINT LEAVING WITHOUT IT!" He yelled at Farin in particular as he braced himself once more.

He tried to conjure some earth walls with his magical affinity to act as a buffer for everyone with the impending message of "I'm going to burn you" seething from the dragons fiery maw.

He was ready for the hunt.
(Tim Cobblestone)


This is it..!

 There is a moment that she is caught within awe. The change within her own persona comes briefly with a flicker of pride and preparation...The wings around her body beginning to unravel as she faces the drakanite infront of her...Even when it nearly crushes one of her own. There is a brief moment where she collects herself....Her body remaining low to the ground, the draconic slits within her gaze narrowing into fine daggers. Something inside of her calls out briefly...As if she wouldn't want to attack one of her own. As if she should not attack the divine pet and yet...Her own selfish motives cause her to take a single step forward.

It is people like you.. The voices within her mind speak up for the first time. That are the reasons as to why we cannot fullshift anymore. Missed blessings because they do not protect their own, but instead, fight against it. The blood of the drakaness combats their own potential of being within this place...But she does not turn against her people. Instead, it seems that she accepts her own decision.

 Wordlessly, does her blade unsheathe once more. And soon, she gets within a similar crouching stance yet again...As if prepared to suddenly launch herself at the dragon. "Die."
(Bei Rowan)

What an incorrect statement.

Though it was a fine piece of work, the large Dragon. Golden scales, flames and overall attire. It was magnificent to behold with its near perfect frame and large stature. There was no doubt in his mind that this was to be a test, of sorts.

It certainly wasn't of their world any longer. That much remained true.

But it was not the apex predator. That could never be something like this, too defined to a singular instance. Too held back, chained. No, the predators that were at the highest foodchain were the two, Ookami and Kitsune.

Farin himself.
Ludovic.

They'd hunted many divine beasts, but never a dragon. It would make for a new experience.

He readies himself almost immediately, not once calling out to Tanahu to ask if he were alright. No, his attention had been occupied. It only held, teethered to the foe.
(Farin Wray)

No, it was not Divinity. But... close enough.

If it weren't for the mask upon Adjudicator's face, one could see the shocked expression, for the wide eyes of scarlet that stared upon the beast. The sheer strength of that beast was more than likely enough to crush anyone in an instant, and it all explained as to how such large portion of the army was obliterated. He almost falters, taking a small step backwards, almost wishing to run away, but--

'Stay and fight, coward!'
'This is your chance! This is your future!'
'This is the necessary sacrifice. We will take you.'

A pause, and the scarlet in his eyes only seemed to grow- to burn- like a radiance of the dawn. It were almost befitting, considering who he happens to be, like the embodiment of the beacon as to what him and his people all stand for, and yet...

"I've seen worse."

Sudden courage? Boldness? Stupidity? No. The words that spill out of his mouth aren't intended. These are the eyes that looked upon the eyes of Lucien, of Corinth when they battled to death - the same eyes that took him so far, despite the common misconception that it was only him. But to digress...

A wall of water was raised, enough to blot out the sun. With each passing moment, it was rising, further and further- the Storm beckoned, the winds furiously roared, and a single order was given.

"Take it down!"
(Arthur Rowan)

The air it displaced was enough to flatten him out.

Tanahu lay stunned on the stones and stared up at the creature that seemed to take up the whole sky. How could such a thing exist or even fit under the roof of tower they'd been climbing..?

These questions stood beyond him as he stayed perfectly still upon the ground. The sword at his side stayed trapped in a white-knuckled hand. Black claws only sharpened the pain he felt as they increasingly grew out and dug into his palms.

The air was too thin for this.

"Who - what are you?" the young man mumbled on scarce breath... "What mountain is this?"

He wouldn't stir until the fight truly started.
(Tanahu)

Close enough, was the right idea to the Saekanis-charged, as his disinterest in the fallen no longer seem to be distant. How his eyes flood with purpose upon the sight of a beast worthy warrants question, but that same question needed not fill the mind when it stands so tall before him.

"...Mmn."

This, was his specialty. The hunting of beasts unheard of, and the excitement that tugs at the corner of his lips warrants a hungry grin. One, that speaks of a joy to aggress, and not even consider the dangers of engaging one blessed by something greater than himself.

Unlike the battle prior, the fox reaches to wield Pale Fear within his grip, the scythe's blade held high. Arthur didn't even need to tell him to strike. This beast was in their way, and truth be told... It'd been quite some time since he'd had a taste of something divine.
(Ludovic Grauhimmel)

(LOST ROUND 1)
Several runes upon the Dragons scales grow even more brightly, before shattering, the spirits within them no longer empowering it...

Instead free to walk the battlefield and strike at its foes.

(LOST ROUND2)
More runes upon its scaly hide explode and crack, further granting the great dragon abilities to call upon, even as its strength continues to dwindle.

The dragon was an ungodly sight to behold, smashing through resistance with powerful swipes of its claws and tail, breathing lightning and fire upon those foolish enough to stand in front of it, summoning gales of wind with every flap of its goliath wings, or shaking the very tower with crashing stomps.

Every motion conveyed the awesome power it possessed, as it rightfully should. This was a being that had been chosen to guard one of the most dangerous things in existence, and it had been done so for a reason.

Bei, crushed by the progenitor of her kind, a vicious flap of its wings throwing it like a missile towards her. Wings crashed and threw Tanahu nearly off the tower to plummet to his death, saved only by the grace of a barrier at the edge of the wall.

Arthur, the Necromancer in all this, would be purged in a horrific breath of fiery light, immolating him from the core up.

Farin, insulting its pride by calling it a mere *trophy*... Jaws closed around him, flinging him bleeding and near broken into the air, before being batted back down by a vicious claw.

Lightning engulfed Tim, scorching his armor and cooking him within, immolating, burning.

The knightly spirits, so many now, surrounded Ludovic, slashing and stabbing, impaling with their ethereal greatswords...

And yet - you did not fall. Death did not claim you. Not yet. The dragon roared, shaking the world with its fury, and advanced on the still living, a violent nimbus of power erupting, the last of the runes exploding...

Who knew what it could command now?

Perhaps without those runes though.... The divine beast could be bested.

Tim rushed in slugging the Dragon in its jaw, he hit it so hard,

It stopped spewing fire for about 3 whole seconds.

For those three seconds Tim had a beautiful montage playing before his very eyes. He could sauté the dragons meat, or even grill it in a light garlic and glowing mush room sauce. The flavor, the beautiful savory flavor he sought was right before him.

As the Oscuri wailed on the giant angels pet, his fists became cloaked with reika, he showered the dragon with care, tenderizing the meat within with his powerful punches.

"AYAAAA HAH HAH HAH HAH HAH HUYAAHHH!!!" He roared

Each punch filled with each ounce of his very soul. His roars reached the skies above. The searing pain of heat and the lacerations he received from the wind, miniscule, for a moment.

The second his fomorian shielding came undone, Agony struck his very core. This was something he could not lift, some deity he could not budge, this was his new PR. He looked around as everyone was literally bitch slapped or blasted beyond the towers base. He himself, electrocuted within his very armor.

His nerve endings nearly fried, his armor molten red, his very muscle armor tinged black every where the bolts of lightning entered and exited. He was defeated, yet something was odd. Each bolt felt progressively weaker.

After letting out a scream that was so high in pitch it could not be heard. Tim uttered one word.

"c-cris..py." He mumbled.
(Tim Cobblestone)

Terrifying power.

One last time he charged in. It might have been the last time if not but for the stone rail which buttressed the tower against the deep drop to the world below. Tanahu caught himself with a limp arm as the force of a wing-slap sent him ragdolling -

The Shenlong groggily looked over the edge. He blinked once, twice...

He lurched backwards and crawled to his feet, sore and shaking, to get away from that fate. He faced the dragon and found his sword after a moment of searching -

Better to die in the continuing fight than drown in a sea of clouds. A chill ran through him as he thought he might face the beast alone. The Shengese bit his cheek in a crowded, fangy mouth and scanned the field.

"Grauhimmel?" he called out - "Cobblesssstone?!" Even as they embarked upon this great crusade, he didn't know Farin's name - he turned his course first towards the white-haired fox who'd been picked up and thrown down upon the ground.

Upon arriving at the white-haired hunter's side, Tanahu reached to give the older man a shake, to see what his injuries had been - slitted eyes were wide with concern.

They needed to fight just as hard if not harder now if they hoped to survive or die decent deaths.

"Can you..." he coughed as he felt a painful tightness in his chest - the aftermath of a concussive 'swat.' Squinting through the pain, the young man mumbled the rest.

"Can you ssstill fight?"
(Tanahu)


Tim Cobblestone says, "My nipples... are fried.. to the chestplate... "
It wasn't wise to taunt a dragon.

You'd think he would know that with all of the times he matched Bei, blade for blade. Weapon for weapon. Fist for fist, the woman was just a strong tyrant with her strength. Wings beating ever so powerfully.

There was no difference between then and now, with the only exception of Farin being on the brink of the unliving. His eyes roll to the back of his head, beneath lids that were closed and caked to the brim with blood.

His own blood. A price to pay for daring to insult this guardian of a creature, even if this creature had been given aid by something otherworldly. Uh, well, otherworldly-er.

Trampled beneath the claw of a dragon so much greater, Farin does not feel anguish. Rather, anger. Rage. The idea that he could perish here, that he could die? It was unfathomable. They had come so far to deal with this, and to fall just on the way?

It was absolutely unacceptable!

His broken body moves against his will--or rather not against, but in according to. Yes, his will is not ready to give up, to give in just yet. He would rather struggle and fight for another day. A new moment, a new breath. To see Kestrel once more.

To see his friends.

Before he knows it he is on his feet with his blades holding him up, digging them into the ground beneath them.

''Fuck.''

His only words as his golden eyes take in the entirety of the dragon. In contrary to his broken body, the aura around him flummoxes before raising up at least two times as large as it had been before. The shroud billowing with a loud and ferocious demeanor.

There was no doubt about it.

They would have to overcome this thing.
(Farin Wray)


Ba-thump, ba-thump, ba-thump. Despite all of the color lacking within the area...The one thing that does come to mind is the presence of red. It coats her vision within the moment - her own vision twisting, turning....The power that surroundings her being coalescing into a shield around her body. But despite all of that...Even within the most sickening moments, she would've found herself being the first to perish amongst the two. Within moments such as these...There seems to be little resistence. The barriers around her body crashed into her flesh- the sound of glass shattering can be heard as she is suddenly 'crushed'...And then tossed aside - broken, sent tumbling amongst the realm...

Death.

 It lingers within her last moments...The shallow breathing, the moments where the drakaness' broken frame attempts to lift despite the mass nearly ending her. But instead, she finds that her shallow breathes do not falter...Instead, the life that once 'left' her doesn't seem to leave her at all..

"H-how..?"

 Her voice rings heavy within the darkness of her vision. "How..?" Blood drips ever so freely, thorning out around her body as she speaks. "It hurts.." Whispers from the woman could barely be heard and yet...She attempts to come to a stand once more..

"It hurts." And yet, despite her terrible vision...It seems that she has found a weakness of some sort. In moments such as these...Her best bet would've been to attempt to save Ludovic, but unfortunately, the constant flickering of wings and broken body prevents her from moving too quickly.

"Save Ludo.." An attempt is given, however...A sweep of her blade is shot off at the spirits to cleave them away from his fallen form. Poor baby.
(Bei Rowan)

This is all too much.

No matter how much they pushed, no matter how far they pushed, their fight could not end here, not by a long shot- at least, not in the way that they wanted it to. Of all things, of all dreams that he had, to have it ripped away from him was the most cruel thing that the Divine beast could do.

No matter how much the renowned Chaos mage dashed through the flames, no matter how vigorously he fought, the fiery light engulfed him- the barrier of water tried to stop it, to protect his core from burning, to save him from the grace of death but...

"No.. no..!"
"NO!"

A fiery maelstrom. The screams of Adjudicator echoed through the hall, and even the mask could not muffle it- the Undead he brought along tried to come to his aid, but their efforts were futile. It'd almost seem that no matter how much he tried to put it out, it didn't work...

"Not... not like this..."

A silent mutter under a cracking mask. The embrace of heat was replaced by the cold embrace of impending death, and no matter how much he tried to struggle back, to protect his dreams and his future, it would seem that he was destined to lose it all. To lose everything he had - and everything he could ever have. Quite a shame, and yet...

'Worthless. Do we really have to save you again?'
'And you tried to get rid of us.'
'But with you, we die as well. Get up.'

The coldness did not leave. The burnt frame of Adjudicator was coated in protective, soothing embrace of the water, one that intended to heal him, to bring him back from the verge of death. Where the pitiful man had almost all that he worked for taken away in the instance was forced to face his doom, something else played in his stead.

No. A simple man could not do it. Not on his own.

"We aren't... done yet.." The cocktail of adrenaline and blood rushed through his veins with invigoration surging through him, the numbed skin from fire regaining its senses. "We can't... I can't..."

A pause. A look of a broken man who's just picking up the pieces. A look of a spirit that refuses to leave, obsessively haunting the only thing it exists for.

"We aren't retreating."

"Stand your ground."
(Arthur Rowan)

It'd been quite some time since he'd run into something so problematic, the power of a sole being having called for even the wild fox to reconsider and take a different approach. Magic is expelled from his person with little restraint on the amount of force behind it, flames engulfing their arena time and time again so as to wear down the dragon. Yet, its hide proved to be quite tough.

Though, that alone seemed to be the least of his worries, for the foot soldiers at its side do well to prevent the beast from slipping away. As much as the lifestream could give way to the will of the determined, there was little one could do when his mind had moreso been focused upon the blades which slice through armor..

While ethereal, the sting of steel is exactly as you'd imagine it. Painful, and entirely a burden that even the grauhimmel himself didn't wish to endure.

Death is something the winter-wolf has brought him to terms with the closing of a story, yet still he persists. Through his bloodied sights, all that was needed would be a moment of respite. Nature answers his call, and even the slightest alleviation of the assault from Bei's efforts allowed for his vines to viciously lash out at the spirit, wild and uncontained.

"Get. OFF!"

As coordinated as one could wish to be midst a flurry of stabbing, this dumb fox makes his best attempt at scurrying away from his assailants. ;;
(Ludovic Grauhimmel)

The dragon bled. Great gouts of red blood spilled across the cobblestones. The spirits lay vanguished, their runic empowerment only lasting so long, their numbers only so many. The storm began to break around you as the great dragons grip on the world began to fade, but still it fought with the ferocity of a cornered beast.

It was determined not to live at this point, but to kill those that had brought it so low.

To kill those capable of unsealing an angel.

To kill you all.

Magic sparked across its golden body, eyes glowing red, as something malicious took hold. Holy continued to erupt as the creep of sin, so dormant...

Erupted.

It was staggered. Deliver the death blow, before you fell with it.

Bloodied.

Impossible. There were moments when she'd find herself beginning to falter briefly. Her own vision staining harshly - tumbling, tunneling....And then, threatening to become knocked off balance yet again. In the end...She finds herself begin swept aside yet again, sent tumbling across the cobblestone. In capable of saving those around her that she cared for. Incapable of helping others. This weakness. This horrid 'feeling' within the pit of her stomach knew otherwise. In this case... She finds herself beginning to come to a stand once more.

 There is no pain anymore.
 There is nothing more than silence.

 In times such as this - the color fades entirely...Everything else didn't matter. Everything else doesn't matter. For the one time within her life, she abandons conscious effort to live and instead...Focuses upon the most deadly aspect of battle. The true, the impossible chaos. Despite the horrid wounds upon her body, despite the gashes, and flesh being ripped apart...She sinks into her stance once more, warm breath spilling past her lips, smoke billowing into whimiscle, amethyst flecks..

 It had been a long time since she's said something like this, but...This warrants the situation.

"Come." She's ready.
(Bei Rowan)

Maimed, Tanahu fell back.

The wing-swat from earlier had been merciful compared to the beating he now received. The Shenlong struggled to right himself from the ground, covered in cuts from the spirits, nursing sure injuries beneath his dented, scarred mythril armor.

"It'sss..." he struggled to speak through a trail of blood bubbling up over his lips. The man spat it away on a serpentine tongue before he brought his hands back to his sword for what truly might be the final time -

"It'sss going to bring thisss tower down if we do not ssstop it," he gasped. Fear and adrenaline mixed to make his slitted eyes wide and black.

"It'sss going to kill us all."

Even against that horror, he raised his shaking sword.
(Tanahu)

Tim was actually getting his ass beat, and there was no kind way to express that. This dragon was literally ripping away at his flesh, searing his very skull as well as pummeling him with their gargantuan muscles.

He was being beta'd by an Alpha.

The oscuri looked around wondering how in the world they were going to get out of this, just this one road bump, and be prepared to actually fight whatever this THING is guarding.

Forget the fucking Tail.

Tim was aiming for the neck.

"AS AN OSCURI, I'M OBLIGATED TO FIGHT TILL DEATH.

AND I'M NOT READY TO STOP FIGHTING!

SO I'M GONA KILL YA!

ALL ABOARD THE FUCKIN DRAGON SLAYING TRAIN, CHOO CHOO!!!!"

Tim screams, his eyes bloodshot, his clothing tattered. There were likely his last words if he didn't use his body to the complete maximum.

There was no turning back.
(Tim Cobblestone)

So much worked for.

The battle to sing the legends for eternity about. The battle to make them either the fame of their nation, or the fallen heroes who'd never come back- but no matter how glorified such thing can get, in Arthur's mind, there's only one thing that pulsed the entire time - to survive.

To kill or be killed.

All these years, all this effort he invested to be what he is now... if only to be slowly torn apart with each blow delivered, with each drop of blood shed. The labored breath of Adjudicator gave out obvious signs of fatigue, along with the drip of blood beneath the cracked mask. But no, there was something else... something more.

Rage. Unbridled anger. The Storms were beckoned once more, and the prison of water was rising from beneath the dragon's feet- it aimed to immediately target his head, to snuff out the fire and lights, to provide the conduit for electricity. An enraged snap of Chaos itself, and a roar.

"WHY WON'T YOU DIE?!"

"I'VE WORKED FOR THIS SO MUCH!! YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO STAND IN OUR WAY!! YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO RUIN MY DREAM!!"

A bolt of lightning. Another. And another. And another. There was nothing of a man left in this hollow shell. There was nothing of a coward that once doubted himself - there was only a burning passion to defy all that tried to stop him.

"DIE!"
"DIE!"
"DIE!"
(Arthur Rowan)

By this point he's no longer even capable of feeling himself fall apart. Legs? He floated. Arms? He'd simply bite the damn thing to death. If he couldn't use these parts, they wouldn't hold him back.

Farin has decided that much, this was for certain. As he looks upon the carnal dragon, pure and utter destruction ahead, he wouldn't turn back. There wasn't the chance, there wasn't the moment.

They simply had to forge a path forward.

The Ookami could feel his mind meld into something different. His eyes take on a focus unlike any other. The time here coming to a slow. Electricity begins to run across his body, but it wasn't any of the natural sort. It was pure mana.

Mana induced electricity that ran across him in thrill patterns.

His arms felt heavy. Legs too. His whole body ached in ways he hadn't dreamed. It was no wonder he had a bad feeling. His instincts hadn't let him down any time soon. They were right.

This was a grave.

But they had to see it til the end. And whether that meant the end of their lives or the end of this things. He'd make for sure to keep himself up until the last person fell, that he could go out honoring them.

Truly. This was a foe worth hunting.

''FUCK!''
(Farin Wray)

Why, he hadn't felt this pushed to his limits since he'd faced the Raksha, when the claws of such a beast had nearly cleaved him in twain and had left him a mess teetering on the edge of death. The adrenaline, it pumped within him still, hardly hindering the dragons ability to invoke pain upon his mortal shell.

This however, was not something to find despair in. No, he was invigorated with yet another wind.

One, akin to the very beast which had done this unto him years ago. His dark-red gaze is set alight with hunger, with an attempt to shed the limitations and instead remain a predator. Determination translates to hunger, and oh did Ludivic wish to see this being fall so that there'd be another to the collection.

The fox bears his fangs, and lowers his posture, bloodlust wielded instead of logic. If caution would not give way to his boon, then he would allow for the winter-wolf to wholeheartedly guide him, so that not a single moment would fail to bring joy to the male's strife.

"Ahaha!"
(Ludovic Grauhimmel)

Ludovic - Grievous Perm, -40 Vit
Tim, Tanahu - 12 Day Temp
Arthur - 4 Day Temp
Bei, Farin - 1 Day Temp


The battle continued to violently rage, breaking the rooftop and cracking the tower. Pieces of brick fell apart, collapsing down to the ground below. The situation of the battle, who could tell? The raging storm, the veteran warriors... For all you knew, a brigade was marching to slay you all, not that it mattered.

The Dragon was falling.

Jaws lashed out at the Kitsune Ludovic, the closest, the first thing to be marked for death. Teeth like glittering blades crunched through armor and flesh, cracking bone, severing organs. Only a blast of telekinetic might from Arthur prevented it from outright biting the Kitsune in half.

Tim, for all his Oscuri pride and strength, was nothing compared to the ungodly *strength* at the great beasts disposal. Its tail lashed out like a whip, breaking ribs and impaling him upon a broken piece of the tower, somehow avoiding crucial organs through the luck of the damned.

Tanahu, dashed and disorientated, felt dejavu as the thing took to th e sky for a brief moment, crashing down with raking claws, tearing open his chest, gore spurting across the battlefield. Only an ironclad will to not die kept him from succumbing to those wounds on the spot.

Arthur, again, found himself immolated in a combined breath of fire and lightning. So close that it could've been plasmic, incinerating robes, scorching his hair, melting armor and blade -

He stood, barely.

Bei, despite the savagery, took the least of it alongside Farin, the two of them trapped in place by exorcist barriers. The ground trembled, collapsing, sending them tumbling to lower floors, saving them from the worst injuries.

And then the beast stumbled. It collapsed, the right leg giving under the weight, hamstring ruined. Blood ran from its nostrils like a river, boiling.

It was down.


You have received an INJURY:

Name: "Horrifying Burns"

Desc: Scorched across the body, near plasmic powers had been unleashed upon Arthur as he withstood the full force of Terigar's breath. Only providence kept this injury from being greater...

Inflictor: Morrana DM

Class: TEMPORARY

Duration: Medium (4 days) (-20% VIT)

With the right bit of effort they continue the battle.

It was nothing easier, no less destructive. It was all powerful, this entity tainted by the magic of sin and the blessings of the divine. But that was to be expected.

What he hadn't expected was for his body to take flight as it did. So much more powerful, so much more capable. His efforts were rewarded, as those who battled alongside him fought and fell.

Farin could feel his body shimmer with energy abound, blessed from somewhere else. Something he himself wasn't certain of. But, there it was. And here he stood.

A voice. It called to him.

A sound that had been practically giberish all the way up until this point. One that he blotted out, flat out ignored. Farin wasn't sure why it was coming to him now.

He spurs onwards though regardless, allowing for his surprise to be held at bay. Allow his strength to come forwaard. Whatever this voice was, it was encouraging. Strengthening. It showed him many things.

Reminded him of his ties, his connections. And Farin was pleased to step away from the shallow ends of death to fight for those things.

His swords cleave scales and flesh, blood and swaths of mana away from the dragon who had all but fallen to his desires to kill them. And in turn, they are the victors.

He growls low in his throat at the victory, wanting to shout out, but he resolves to keep himself in check. Brimming with energies. He could feel his wounds, intense as they were, but he didn't mind them. He reveled in the idea of them.

But, for Ludovic, Farin makes his way over to the fox and crouches down. Both to check on his friend as well as to take a damn rest. He could barely move at this point.

''We did it.''

He acknowledges to his longtime brother.

''We hunted.''
(Farin Wray)


Do you feel it?

 There is a moment when she finds herself beginning to tremble underneath the weight of her own power once more. The world around her shuddering, the shields and more all too weak in comparison to the dragon that slams against their forms time and time again. Is this what you wanted? There is a moment within the fight...Where she becomes too lost to the adrenaline, when the rippling of reality at the tip of her blade becomes all too much for others to simply endure. In times such as these...She does not master the technique, but she gets dangerously close to it...

 It forces her to slip underneath the pressure briefly - gasping for air, losing herself before she, too, gets tossed aside by the wings of the creature. And if it weren't for the barrier magic accidently keeping her in place...Perhaps, she would've been flung off of the tower as well. Instead...She feels herself suddenly shifting, the ground giving beneath her...Floors making way until the very end..

Ba..thump...Ba..thump.

 The darkness occurs- unlike the others though, she doesn't get up too quickly. Instead, she rests briefly within her own wounds...Her eyes closing, her chest rising and falling. For now, the nature of her own attacks worked against her in the worse ways. For now, she'd prefer to rest..
(Bei Rowan)

No. There's no coming back. Not anymore.

The battle raged on, and Adjudicator's patience for it was waning with each passing second. Not only they were under a threat of simply dying to all of it, but the frustration of being simply unable to defeat it was piling up with the agonizing pain that was coming everytime he was scorched by the Dragon.

And another flame came. Set on fire, with the heat attempting to burn away everything that he's had, the Rowan resisted with all his might by creating a constant stream of water ahead of himself. It was intended to fight back against the flames, to ensure that he will not die today, but--

-- suddenly, the silent rage of waters lashed out with unseen force, with support of Telekinesis- both to save Ludovic from the certain death, and to ensure that the Dragon's wind is knocked out. Surrounding the beast with the particles of water, his head with the cage that sought to suffocate him, the cracked mask of a maddened man showed naught but a glare of two scarlet eyes, pointed right at it.

"You cannot stop me on my way to my dream. You can't. You are not allowed to do that."

The gathering Storm above the Dragon was imminent. The water prison was expanding, growing in size all around its head, stretching down its body- the pressure was closing in, and the darkness was steeling over its eyes.

"Die."

Then, thunder came. Myriad lightning bolts, striking from above, striking from Arthur's palms, frying the Dragon within water as conduit to insane excess. The body's vital functions were shutting down, forced to succumb to the damage that lightning provided, up until there was no point to keep shocking the Dragon - it was dead, its head still hidden in the prison of water, if only to promptlydisappear.

Inhale. Exhale.

A wince, and the rage that was blooming in Arthur's magic just a moment ago gives way to pain. The adrenaline subsides, and a keen eye could note the muffled sound of pain that is given away with his voice. He holds onto his burns, the labored breath becoming apparent, and yet he manages a few words.

"No... this Dragon is valuable."

"Take it back to the camp... or whatever-- mmh.. whatever remains of it."
(Arthur Rowan)

Mythril tore like cloth under mighty claws.

The world gave way before him again. This time, however, Tanahu didn't fly. His body felt suddenly heavy, as if pinned in place by the same force that rent his chest open.

The dragon raged and rampaged on to its death, though - how could it be holding him down? The Shenlong raised his head slightly to see the culprit.

Blood bubbled up through his armor. It showed no sign of stopping, and as Tanahu prepared to tell it to do exactly that, he felt something warm and sticky rise in his throat.

He gagged, rolled, and hacked up a gout of red liquid on the crumbling stones of the tower. It didn't help him feel lighter to get it off his chest -

Every droplet left his body more dead weight. The sounds of ringing metal and roaring spells stirred him just enough to look up from the pooling lifesblood.

He saw the dragon fighting its last, and not for the first time - like Bei - saw red. How dare it, he thought, fanged mouth curling into a crimson scowl as he brought a knee forward. It cannot kill me now. His expression contorted with pain as the Shenlong tried to straighten up.

A draconic heritage of his own was the only thing that allowed the young man to stumble across the floor. The convenience of his sword - lost on the ground on his path - was the only thing that allowed him to retrieve it after first accidentally kicking it as it sat outside his darkening tunnel vision.

As it breathed its last, Tanahu stumbled to the now-vulnerable beast. Whatever wounds he'd dealt were few and far between amongst so many others.

He buried Shiken in its exposed side and slumped against the still-warm corpse.
(Tanahu)

Tim bellowed in agony as he realized what was coming after he'd foolishly and carelessly approached the dragon. His fist was cocked and ready to punch the big golden bastard right in its gut.

Yet, his whole world was SHOOK when the dragon opened its maw spewing out a telekinetic wave of fire. A wave that sent the man back so far he had no clue as to how or why he was burning up.

His muscles were being burned to bits, his molten armor basically melting his flesh away. His rocky fists drip onto the ground. His fists were covered in blisters and runny liquids.

He could die here.

He jumped up, miraculously. Rushing toward the dragon once more. Every step weighing more than the last. It was as if the situation had finally sunken onto Tims conscious. The lumbering oaf clenched his fists.

Rocks began to fly toward his body, he let out a ghastly bellow, it was his fomorian stance. He embraced what pain he was already under to prepare himself for the ultimate fucking of a life time.

As he charged forward, his fist shined bright, a green light sparkling as he slammed his fist right into the dragons ugly majestic nose.....


One..

Two..

Three..

WHAM!

Tim was thrown back with such force, his armor sharpened the spike he was impaled on. Blood gushed from his body, his ley lines flickered and he sat there, defeated.

He felt near death, yet he still had one joke.

"Bullseye.." he whimpers..

The spike was protruding before him, he sat there and looked at it, gurgling blood in his mouth. He needed to rest while the others wrapped things up.
(Tim Cobblestone)

Nothing good ever comes from toiling with forces unheard of, and the kitsune himself could attest to it time and time again. Yet, no matter howm any times he's burned, it seems the means to persist would always be a given. A natural order to the male that hopes to steep himself in as much of it as he could. For as long as the battle raged on, he would not relent.

At least, for the length of time he had avoided the dragon's jaws.

His armor and magic did little protect the flesh, and its teeth did will to rip flesh asunder and puncture vital organs, completely caught by surprise, there was little time to even cry out from the surge of pain that came with literally being chewed upon by a being much larger than oneself.

The feeling wasn't one that he'd been unfamiliar to, but it was just as painful. If not even more, Arthur's control over the arcane but a saving grace to the Kitsune whom would most likely be tossed aside as a result of the blow.

Near-death didn't quite cut it for him. The fox grits his teeth, having broken out into a cold sweat. His control over nature persisted, tendrils of green soaked in blood as it attempted to curl about his torso, failing to mend the wounds he sustained from the dragon's vicious bite.

"Not quite.."

Of course, the Grauhimmel wouldn't be satisfied with this. He'd exhausted every option, only to be set behind. The frustration made that much clear within his gaze.
(Ludovic Grauhimmel)

Tanahu squints up at Arthur. Propped up on his sword in the dragon, he lets out a bloody mumble: "Th'crys'al."
(Tanahu)

Now it was the time to deal with the crystal at last.

With the power that it contained, there's largely a doubt that they could actually access the barrier to damage the people within- if anything, after fighting the Dragon for so long, he figures that this was a trace to his barrier magic, nothing else. As such, this magic is meant to protect people, not harm them.

A swaying force of telekinesis. It comes as disrupting wave, made to cut off the crystal from its power source, to remove it from the sustenance it needed in order to support the barrier over the stronghold. Once it's weakened, another blast comes, now the one intended to destroy it - a battering force, one that shatters the very core of a crystal.

And while they still had a lot of obstacles ahead of them, it's doubtless that they could have a moment of respite, to rest and recover after the injuries.

"Come on... we need to get back to the camp."

"I'll treat everyone there and we'll begin planning our assault on stronghold. Move it."

(Arthur Rowan)

As Arthur destroys the crystal, magic backlashed violently, striking the necromancer with the full force of the divine storm it had commanded. Again, he was injured, magic sizzling across his being, one last damnable act of the angels seal.