Regalia had not been a city steeped in Magic, not like the Altalar lands and the grand capital of Rië. As much as Magic was still present in the city, many of its inhabitants had never seen it. The city that sprawled most of the Imperial Isle was so large that in the outskirts or some of the racial quarters, very few people had actually seen anything demonic or magical, despite the many strange occurrences in the last few years. Today, just at the break of dawn, would be one such day where the city would be lashed by Magic in many quarters that had not experienced it before, but would also see the rise of proud organizations to defend the city from what seemed like a really sudden and odd appearance of Demon origins. Perched on one of the roofs of the High Elven district, where-in not only Altalar but also Cielothar and Avanthar lived, a great Hellion beast sat perched on the tallest tower, balancing on a thin metal statuette of Estel that peaked the dome. It watched the streets below, the thick golden fur in its neck ruffling gently in the wind as the rising sun’s light reflected off its red and golden eyes. A guardian hound to some, or a hound of doom and destruction to others, the events that were about to unfold on the city would draw many more questions that they bore answers for the strange summoning circles that had been appearing in select places of the city the night before. Before long, before the sun had even half appeared on the horizon, across the street appeared a decrepit creature, a faceless creature, a creature with arms made of oozing green pus and slime which spoke in no mortal tongues. It was also before long, without any great warning or dialogue as a prelude, that these two creatures would start a battle that would endure for most of the day. The first to strike was the Faceless, using its slimy arms to lunge itself across the rooftops to reach the Hellion Beast, which readied with its large claws and canine muzzle to tear into the Demonic creature. Both of Demonic origin, this battle was guaranteed to be mighty. Blows were exchanged by both sides. A wolf-like snarl followed by a bite in the shoulder, a swipe with razor sharp claws, followed by a slimey wrap around and a throw, a torrent of force and a crash. The two foes battles with each other at first, but included their surroundings before long. The loud noises and the toppling of stone tiles outside woke the first Altalar who took to the streets to see these creatures making battle on their roofs, and it was also here where the Demonic ooze would first use the strange summoning circles he had placed around the city. The nearby circle came to life, spewing forth blobs of green liquid that quickly solidified into ghastly shaped of molten clay warriors. They jumped on the hellion one by one, trying to crawl on its large back and punch and gash at its fur. As they fell one by one, their dismantled and dismembered bodies fell to the streets below, reforming, and attacking the citizenry. Panic quickly rose in the streets below as the claymen started seizing onto the Elves in the streets, running back and forth for cover as the claymen continued to rain down on them. It was then that the Hellion beast cast a great summoning spell of his own, with white light spewing forth from his hands and ghastly torrents of white smoke filling the streets. These smoke streams would gather and give form to great ghostly apparitions of High Elven soldiers of the old Empire, clad in great silvercraft armor, windvane woven silk and topped by the grand eagle wing helmets of old. They were exactly the pictures of old Elven tomes and stories, lethal grace given ghostly shapes to defend their people and creator. These ghostly shapes of the Altalar drew their Nightsilver bows and glaives and brought battle on the claymen everywhere they went. In the Alaÿ street, a row of ghostly spearmen took up position, letting the fleeing living Elves past before unleashing volleys of ghostly arrows upon the claymen, taking them down by the dozens. Even on the roofs, ghostly apparitions of the Elves would appear, loosing arrows on the Demonic Ooze and other creatures that assailed the Great Hellion beast. Elsewhere in the city, the great fire of the Divine Militia and the Holy Sepulchre lit up with its bright blue flame, a sign that unholy things were afoot in the city. Before long, the church bells around the city rang the morning, though not in a call for prayer, but in a call for holiness and protection as white smoke was sent from the guard towers in response. Legions of Imperial Url warriors, Divine Militia Inquisitors and Violet Order Guards marched out of the Imperial Palace, the Divine Militia HQ and the Red Citadel respectively to meet the would be invaders of the city. Their response would not come timely enough for the High Elven district, but they would soon join in this messy battle. The Demonic Ooze and the Hellion meanwhile stumbled into the Yanar District, the claymen in the High Elven district slowly falling apart again and the ghostly Elves disappearing into thin white smoke as suddenly as they had appeared, even to the last second fighting with grim determination to slay the clay men and assault the Demonic Ooze from the rooftops. When the Hellion and the Demonic Ooze stumbled into the Yanar district, the Hellion was struck by a great torrent of vile putrid corrupted mess, causing him to crash with great speed into the Estel shrine, collapsing on top of him. The Demonic Ooze did not gloat in victory, as it knew the battle had yet to be won. From beneath the rubble, the Hellion cast a spell on the vines to come to life to defend themselves and the garden in which they lay. A great beast of vines, twigs, branches and rock formed out of the soil to meet an equally gargantuan creature of slime origins that looked more like the putrid remains of bones buried deep in the soil sewn together by sewer rot. The two creatures that had been summoned to their lords made battle with one another in the background while their creators did so on the rooftops. The flowery vine beast sprang great traps of fiber and leaf, creating nets of protections to keep the Yanar safe who were terrified and hiding in their houses while the bone rot continued to charge around the quickly desiccating garden, attempting to swipe at both the Hellion on the roofs and the Evergrowth Golem in the streets. Much like transitioning from the High Elven district to the Yanar district, the two battling raged into the Isldar community after their encounter in the Yanar area, a fight where the Ooze seemed to be getting the upper hand. It pummeled the great Hellion beast one and over just as the bone rot slew the vine creature in the Yanar district, weakened by the magic of its creator waning from the area. Before the bone rot could turn on the Yanar who were still seeking protection in the houses however, the first Sons of Piety and Crystal Maidens arrived under the lead of the Reverend of Torre Belesta who happened to be in the area with a small mission outpost. With selfless dedication, as the beast sped towards them with intentions to kill and maul, did they summon a great Unionist exorcism onto the creature, denying its magical presence and undoing its bindings until it fell into ruin before their feet. In the Isldar district meanwhile, the Isldar were hiding in their houses also, but taking a more proactive stance to protecting their community that had suddenly been invaded by a titanic fight of two Demonic presences. Across the roofs and the streets beyond, the chorus of Isldar voices could be heard, singing and pleading to the protections of the cold mountains of Ellador and Frostwyrm to save them from the demon essences. It had appeared as if Frostwyrm had answered, for when the Chorus reached its highest, the Isldar received a vision of his great piercing blue eyes and frozen cold descended on the area. The Demonic Ooze suddenly found its gel and slime freezing in the cold, and the Hellion which was wrapped in thick golden fur, managed to resist the cold and break free from his entrappings. This terrain was hostile to the Demonic Ooze, and as such, it retreated to the Varran District, with the Hellion now in pursuit. When the Hellion and the Ooze arrived, the Varran had already armed themselves and taken up defensive positions. At first they attempted to shoot arrow and fling rock at the ooze, but this appeared to be futile. If anything, the Ooze acknowledged their disruptive presence for the first time since starting the fight, and creating clay men of the green ooze specifically to clear out the Varran. A wild melee would follow quickly. It was also in that moment that the great Hellion cast another spell of summoning, creating a number of white ghostly apparitions of proud and tall standing Varran clad in armor. These Varran took up positions between the living Varran, creating unified lines of ancient Varran casting fire and thunder through their tubes of lightning, flanked by the living Varran with bow and arrow, casting down the clay men. The fight among the Varran streets continued for a good half an hour before this battle too spilled over into another street, the clay men eventually being defeated by the locals, who cheered, only to see the ghostly varran disappear in thin air again. The fight between the two Demonic forces continued through various streets, some visited longer than others, before the great bells of the Cathedral rang and the Imperial Legions arrived. In the Kaiser Theomar Square, the two Demons made battle while Url Legionnaires formed up lines on the far end. The Ooze again recognized their approach and summoned great ogre-like beasts of ooze to get rid of their nuisance, the Hellion unable this time to cast a counter spell due to the increased fatigue of the fight. The Urls prepared the charge, donned their spiked helmets and charged in unison, the entire square and the surrounding houses trembling from symphony of clattering hooves and beastly growls. As horns met the Demonic summons, many Url were cast back, yet some were toppled and cut to pieces. The Url showed ferocity and strength in defence of their city, which was quickly supplemented by the arrival of the Imperial Dragon that descended from the sky, and with a landing, swooped strong clawed paws and tail at both the Great Hellion and the Ooze. The Ooze cast vile magics in evil tongues while the Great Hellion beast spit magic back at it, though much of it turned into a three way struggle, as it wasn’t quite clear yet if the Hellion beast was actually protecting Regalians or using them as a distraction while supplementing his own counter spells to defeat this creature. The Imperial Dragon thus fought with both of them, and the three way battle ensued on the square, where the space afforded by its size luckily kept damage limited to just the golden statue of Theomar that was crushed when the Hellion threw the Imperial Dragon into it. The battle raged on between the two as the Urls continued to fight a losing battle against the Slime Ogres, until the arrival of the Divine Militia and more Sons of Piety carrying great the Luminous artefacts of Unionism. They too marched in formation, Divine Militia in front of shield the men of cloth, led by the Reverends of the city to cast down the demonic ruin that had taken hold of the area. As they chanted the verses of Union, the magical bindings of the Ogres depleted, causing them to collapse and the Url to turn on the Great Hellion and the Ooze. It was in this moment that the Hellion showed ambiguity at its best, casting a great spell of mind control on the Urls which caused them all to attack the Imperial Dragon instead. In a stroke of irony, the Imperial Dragon was now thus attacked by the Url Legions he had created, letting out a painful cry as the Urls started jumping onto its back and wings, hacking at them with their axes and horns. The Divine Militia and Sons of Piety tried to intervene by casting their rituals of Exorcism on the mind controlled Urls, but were unable to intervene until the Violet Order charged onto the field and managed to restrain the Urls with pure numbers, unfortunately not in time before the Dragon’s wings were broken and it could no longer lift itself off the ground. The Imperial Legions were thus defeated, but the battle raged on. The Ooze eventually made its way into the Allar District where the Allar, much like the Varran, had already armed themselves against the invaders, and pelted large quantities of chemical substances at their invaders. It was the Allar pelting Holy Water that would eventually prove too much for the Great Hellion, though seemed to not affect the Ooze in the slightest. The first Holy Water bulb did nothing, nor did the second or third, but by the twelfth, the Hellion suddenly transformed back into his Human Velheimer form, weakened and a lot smaller than the form of the Great Beast. The Ooze now definitely got the upper hand, the Hellion attempting to counter spell upon spell with his own, but his frailer growing body was giving out. Finally, above the great bend in the river between the New District and Old Town, the Ooze managed to subdue the Hellion. Just as a contingent of Imperial Guard, Divine Militia, Violet Guards, Sons Piety and Reverends, as well as Citizen Militia arrived to cast the Demons out of the city, high up in the sky and on a torrent of ooze, did the Demonic Ooze impale the Hellion Demon. He was restrained so utterly that all would think that any normal Human’s body would have disintegrated from the vile magics that had been blasted on it. The slime torrents that had been fighting above the Sihai District, making battle with ghostly apparitions of the Loong Dragons all disintegrated, and the ooze all seemed to ebb away from the city. Even the summoning circles themselves dried up all over the city, as the Demonic Ooze seized upon the Hellion Demon, and simply vanished from that pillar of disgust that stood in the middle of the river, the slime collapsing not too shortly afterwards and washing away in the river. It was unclear what this event had actually meant. The battle had raged across numerous districts, some shorter than the others. Nearly a third of the city had been covered, and the clean up was a long and arduous process, a rare and unified effort of the Divine Militia and the Violet Order, as well as regular citizens and even Old Town Gangs using whatever rituals, Magics and Alchemy they had at their disposal to rid themselves of the Void Tainted clay and remains of ruins that the battle had caused. Few would know the further implications of what had transpired, or even to what extent the inhabitants of the city had actually influenced the battle as a whole. It did however show a rare instance of so many organizations working together to fight a common foe, or rising up to take care of those in need when normally they were divided. Both Delmonte and Letoirneau guards aided in the defence of the Kaiser Square, healing agents of the Imperial Clinic dispensed security and care to the wounded non-Ailor, and Yanar healers helped ex-Black Guard despite their earlier history. When faced with a common threat, the city did seem to come together, though in the face of speculating the correct interpretation of today’s events, they diverged again. Many called for an extermination of all Demonic things in the city, while others called for another occupation of Old Town, as if they had been responsible. It would seem that whatever story befell Regalia, the only one that would always ring true throughout history, was that Regalia always remained a city of a divided people, and those who would rise to the occasion to make whatever event unfolded before them to their advantage. OOC: All this information is public, and you may post a roleplay reply or testimony on this thread to your character’s involvement. You may have been a Guard involved in subduing the Url. You may also have been a Reverend leading the Sons of Piety, or a Divine Militia person, or a Citizen Militia, or practically any person who bore witness and played a part in this progression. As long as you write it on this thread it will become canon. You may have been anyone watching the final scene, or any of the race specific people if you had a reason to be in their districts.
Joasaie charged with the rest of the Violets against the Url Legions. The Yanar was no match for the strength the enemy's race had, that was fact, but their agility and endurance kept them in the fray. They made it their job to keep each Url they came across focused on them while the more heavily armoured and stronger guards took the Urls out properly with numbers and might. They worked in tandem with Ernesta von Rahm, another guard who Joasaie trained to become more agile in combat. A particularly unlucky Url was so focused on the two and their ever-growing number of cuts to his form that he didn't notice the shield of Ania Howlester until it was crashing full force into his skull, knocking him out and to the ground. The Yanar looked on with disgust at the slime and creature that created it. Joasaie had no idea how martial weapons could exactly get rid of something so...fluid but it seemed that question would not be answered yet as the oozing demon and its Helion captive disappeared. The Yanar's mind flashed over the idea of being ensnared by slime and gave an obvious shudder with a soft mumble of 'rather die than go near that...eugh.' before looking towards Ania, "What are your orders now, Lady Commander?" Of course, that would probably be talked about after the damage was repaired across the city. Spirit, the mess those things made. @MantaRey @_Owlet
Nouveau Tempete- in the presence of various other Violets- had laid out her own efforts to aid in the ordeal to the very best of her abilities. The Kathar, light on her feet and fit for agility and speed with a pole arm, distracted, restrained, or helped to halt what Url entered her’s or others near her’s range of distance. Her goal was clear in that period of time, and her efforts went solely towards being of use from the start to the finish of the fight. She followed through with each demand given to her, earning herself a few broken ribs after becoming victim to two separate cases of charging Url, as well as bloodied and scraped arms from her efforts to keep herself from skidding across the concrete with both hits. Nonetheless, she did the best she could, relentless until it was over. By the end of it all, she was left bruised and battered, but beyond ready to aid in the cleaning process. She staggered along with the various crowds, offering a helping hand where she saw possible in the effort to cleanse the city of the debris and void clay. When all was said and done, the Dark Elf fled back home to ensure the safety of her loved ones, and celebrate the success of the fight with a few drinks. She was muttering beneath her breath as she collapsed into the comfort of the couch in her living room with a bottle of cheap wine and a box of medical supplies, a small smile on her features despite her injuries. “Just like old times.”
Margot Delmotte peered over the happenings from the secure confines of her home, overtaken by cowardice whilst a large portion of her house guard flooded out of it. “What in the Spirit’s name is happening,” The woman murmured, her visage devoid of warmth and color. For a pensive, lingering moment, she contemplated running out of the structure herself and perhaps making use of her leisurely break from over exerting herself in the family business during recent days. After careful consideration, her mind decided no originally; Yet, soon after, her head soothed the qualms she’d harbored inside. Without further hesitation, the Delmotte sweeped herself down the steps and gestured the injured too far from the clinic to enter her abode- directing her servants to cleanse their wounds and tend to their wounds, while allowing their fate to rest in the hands of the Spirit. “Lucienne! Come hither and help us; This is what you desire to do with your life, isn’t it?” She’d query, calling out to her younger half sister, before once again - reluctantly - befalling to the beck and call of the dying souls.
After exorcism after exorcism, walking after walking, the elder Reverend found himself tired. He eased onto a seat within the Grand Cathedral when it had all finished, utterly shocked at what just occurred. What could it mean? he asked to himself. What were those beasts? Why were they here? The Reverend had no particular idea, however he now wondered on the efforts to clean up the mess that had been created. The buildings destroyed. He rose from his seat with the assistance of his cane, tottering out to see the progress that was being made to rebuild.
Henric of Heeresveen immediately ran out of the library the moment a patron told him of the event. He had to record what everyone had seen by the way of spirits, all their features, every detail!
Aeoraed Longsae: The De Letourineau guard would have jumped into the fray in the square to defend his lord and allies, going to brawl with his enemies until he could no longer stand. One fight he got himself into would be against one of the Url's, when his arrows proved unaffective against the beast he drew sword in one hand and shield in the other, charging the beast and occupying it's attention. After a fierce battle Aeoraed gained a nasty scar on his left cheek from the beast but managed to knock it out after several bashes with his shield to the face and a blunt slam to the knee with his sword. This was all possible due to William Siedel covering his back from several other URLs trying to mob him, until the rest of the formation came assisted the two. He then met up with Sigrid Sterk-enn and Bolverk Sterk-enn, two citizens who were nearby during the fight, both who obviously very intelligently decided to join in. Bolverk got into a duel with an Url, and when Aeoraed ran into him on accident Bolverk decided to use him as a weapon, picking up the smaller man and throwing him at the Url, knocking him down, letting him and his sister knock out the Url. @Nathan @ArtisticPlanet @GamingLeopurred
Ernesta von Rahm continued her pursuit alongside the two, yielding her blacksteel longsword. Landing heavy and brutal hits to the forearms of the Bulky Urls, as she worked alongside Joasaie Lloblen to keep it distracted, exhaling a sharp pant as the shield came crashing down. Flicking her blade to the side, splattering the thick blood of the Url onto the ground beneath them. Though she had no time to take a breath, after the incapacitation of the primary Url they had their attention on, another came into fruition charging towards them. The blonde rolled her shoulders back and readied her blade, idly flicking a glance in Joasaie's direction, before giving a firm nod. Afterwards, the small noble lady shuddered. Her Vigilant shield armour splattered in blood of an abundance of things, as well as her own from a cut burdening her cheek. Hastily rubbing at the dried blood on her hands to try scratch it off, whilst her eyes scanned the area as the slime began to recede into the river. A small heave escaped her, the whole look of the slime caused bile to form at the back of her mouth, clearing her throat she inhaled a deep breath, her gaze flickering over to the Commander for further instructions. @JokerLupus @MantaRey
The Drache knight returned his sword to the sheath beside him, sending a look beneath his visor to the other few Viridian Knights who had marched out with him. He paced over to a pair of more youthful members, fifteen year old squires who were of the new group to be trained was knights of the Order. No words were spoke as the Drache placed a hand on the shoulder of one of the boys. No words needed to be said, but the paladin was fearful of what may happen this coming winter. No food, and boys ready to fight for their Primae. Spirit be with us, Harald Drache thought to himself. As the rest of the knights and himself began to return to their castle. @Mooffins (If Papa Percy was there mayhaps)
Gabiel stood in his home in a lovely plush nightrobe with his feet being warmed by the fireplace. He let out a hum of relaxation as he sipped his morning kaffee. The Ithanian man slowly got up from his reclining chair and slipped on some loafers, book in his left hand and kaffee in his right. With a large inhale he glanced out his window and took in the scenery of the stone street with blissful joy before the battle between two giants passed by with armies of clay soldiers and ghostly apparitions in follow. Gabriel paused, slowly drew shut his blinds and slid the safety latch shut on his door before returning to his reclining chair and stared into the fire for the remainder of his day.
Lei had done all she could, batting away void-infested clay warriors with her atraves or making use of the magic she'd known since a child, amidst those that fought for Old Town. The fight was long, a pain, truly, but with her brother at her side, she managed to escape with only minor injuries. In a display of curiosity of the void-infested clay, the half-breed stooped down to pluck up a larger piece left over by a shattered warrior. Without thought, it was tucked into her pocket for later examination. "I hate this city." @Battlebrawn
Ko’zahr would unsheath his short swords and begin to fight alongside his kin to defend the other Varran. When the Hellion summoned the ghost Varran they filed into the lines of the living Varran who gladly accepts their help and they led a charge on the clay soldiers defeating them after this happened all the Varran began to cheer and tend to their wounds.
Ara Luro was brought awake by the clamor of bells, rolling over in her bed barely conscious, grumbling and cursing into her pillow before finally half-falling out of bed and sulking to the window. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes, squinting to see others in the Market District pushing open their own windows. Someone pointed up, so she looked skywards- the spot the massive white-smoke pillars in the sky. She stood upright in shock for a moment, blinking, before spitting out a "F*ck!" And running to grab her clothes, hastily throwing them on, shoving feet into boots, and running downstairs, slamming into the wall on the way. Her door crashed open, then slammed close and she was already a dozen meters down the road and not slowing down, bolting for the Citadel. She arrived just as the others were finishing armoring, nearly running over Joasie as she rushed past and to the Armory. There she kicked her shoes at the wall, threw on proper boots, and haphazardly donned her uniform, tightening the straps too tight in the haste but not giving a shit really. She didn't even bother with her shield, just grabbing a helmet and arming sword before sprinting to join the other Violets, who were marching out of the Citadel Square. As they approached the Kaiser Theomar Square, the first sight became a pants pissingly bad one. Url covered the Imperial Dragon, whoms wings looked damaged. The Ooze and Beast crashing into each other. She heard the orders to detain the Url, giving out a nervous "Ehhuuh." as she advanced with the other Guardsmen. For the 4'11 Cielothar, detaining hulking Url was really the last thing she wanted to be doing whilst barely awake. Well, almost. Better the Url than the Ooze or the Beast she supposed. In the aftermath of the battle, she collapsed against a building, coughing and wheezing. Things were all spinning and blurred as she tried to focus- she probably had a concussion. She took a breath, tossing off her helmet and smearing the trail of blood from her forehead across her temple with her leather gloved hand. An Url had crashed into her, dumbass that she was being at the front. A Doctor eventually made his way over to her, checking how bad her head injury was. This was a shit morning.
Dawn. Bringing about the end of night - a time which Gawainne was most active. She was a slinking thing - a starved and maniac madwoman. She prowled the night in search of stray bones - she had long had an itch for the macabre and the unnatural. That itch would soon be satiated - but not by the skeletal remains the possessed had become comfortable with. It was the first altalar that came screaming past her that alerted Gawainne to the happenings in the city. Their slurred, panicked spatterings of elvish warned her to demonic presence in the holy city. While Gawainne was usually a sensible woman, she found herself suddenly heading in the direction that numerous elves were fleeing in. She was born of the void herself - a defiler of those hallow, a desecrator of graves - of course the possessed would take pointed interested in things born of the void. She'd been a stout study of things warped and twisted, born of other planes, for most of her life. To get the chance to view a magical event was a dream made reality. Gawainne followed the battle as it progressed through the city - though never involved herself directly. She was a cowardly, craven thing. She could not fight, so instead she hid. Unfortunately, the starved gypsy had no journal to record in, but she still carried her charcoal pencil. As the fight progressed , Gawa would duck into abandoned homes, behind barrels, crates, anything that would give her cover. She'd watch the things fight, pulling posters and fliers from walls as she did. With each piece of parchment she pulled she'd turn it over and start scribblings. The sickly savant scrawled mercilessly, noting how both beast acted, what they did, how they did it - she even drew what they looked like, noted how they sounded. She tried her best to copy their wording of magic - though was unsuccessful past phonetics. The summoning circles were drawn in detail by Gawainne, and the scholar picked any pieces of clay, slime, bone, or anything else from the fight off the street as it moved between districts. It was when the imperial dragon arrived that she decided to finally leave. The imperial beast, strangely enough, frightened her enough to finally flick her into a leaving state. Scampering through the streets, hugging her notes and other findings tightly to her chest, she'd retreat into her run-down home to sort everything out. The halfling was ecstatic, spindly fingers running over her notes as she recounted them, her maddened mind whirred without falter through the remainder of the day. Gawa never learned what happened to the three monstrosities - but as time wove onward the whispers of actions to come reached her ear. 'Begone with magic' , 'Exterminate the demons', 'Purge', all seemed to find their way to her. The coward grew ever more cautious. Gawa found herself now covering her collar and concealing her head with a hood when in public.
Cyprien de Letoirneau seemed to be dodging between a few sections of the city while the battle raged on. Donning his Violet Armour, Cyprien rushed out of the Red Citadel to rally the Lancierron Sentinels and join with the rest of the Violets, Divine Militia, and Imperial Guard. In Kaizer Square, Cyprien was overseeing the de Letoirneau Guard best he could, ensuring the Captains were organized accordingly. La Tempete Puissante was charged with defending the medical assistance there while Les Hommes d'Acier held a shield wall alongside the guardsmen House Delmotte had stationed. @Nationalizm @ContestedSnow
Atop one of Regalia's highest towers, a lone Warlock stood vigilant over the Battle's conclusion - trademark red feathered hat held to his chest in begrudging respect. Having prepared, He stood witness over the transpirings - albeit from the shadows. A God was presumably dead, and they had killed him.
Luviss Lutthase would squable about as the battle would reach the varran district, where he would be busy praying to Baskarr for some sort of help for the varran. Though, as he would be praying, the battle would consume the area he was in rapidly, and before long he was surrounded by legions of varran fighters, both real and magical, and men of clay. Flocked in the midst of battle, he was unsure what to do as a clay warrior approached him. The knew he couldnt outrun the beast, for his ovirran legs could support no speed. Just as the warrior was to attack, a large sword sliced through the back of the beast, which was now apparent to be from a magical varran conjuring, which held no smile as he looked to Luviss. Luviss took this opportunity to run as fast as his legs could take him out of the district, and straight to the ithanian district, where he jumped into the harbor and wouldn't return until he saw the smoke disappear. Hal Zts would notice the smoke from his window as he woke up in the morning, and took great haste in preparing for the day. He grabbed his spy glass and ran to the scene of the fight, where he would keep a distance of 2 or 3 blocks away from the duel as he chronicled the ordeal in a small, leather-clad notebook. He would follow the battle and write brief descriptions of the actions each of the beasts would take, through his small spyglass. An ailor man would briefly scorn him for not taking action as he would run to the fight, which Hal noted in his works as well. The complexity of the battle was difficult to record, and Hal would slowly develop a system of writing a sort of choreography of which each of the beasts would take. He would also take note of which planar essence each of these beasts might have arisen from, remembering the explanation his comrade had given him after an expedition to the mist. After much running and tedious note-taking for the later half of the battle, he sat in the lunar club and drank some url vodka as he revised his notes. He would soon to write a letter to some other friends who may have done similar to the event, to compare notes and to look to publish their works.
Charlotte, while not the brightest or the best with her fists, had been assisting the healers in their clinics. She would drag unconscious citizens from their rubbled homes with the assistance of others, and carry them back to the hospital for speedy treatment. Back and forth, like a human cart. Keeping her head down and her work in front of her, the Colonial was able to suppress her fear of the goings-on around her, if only for a moment.
Sophia de Letoirneau - ''What in the spirit-'' Sophia spoke, as a servant stormed into the house, screaming for the guards which were at home to assemble. Within seconds, half of the staff had dissapeared through the door, only leaving two young recruits behind, within moments they started to close the windows and block the doors with furniture, before escorting the family members to the first floor. ''May the spirit protect us.'' She whispered under her breath as she eyed the room with women and children.
Kamirah Naawi had been comfortably tucked up in Tullion Kearney's apartment, resting from severe lack of sleep, when the unfamiliar sound of church bells rang danger in her ears. Rubbing away the fleeting tendrils of fatigue from her mind, she padded over to the window to investigate. Much to her horror, the screams of nearby battle were already raging--and from across the rooftops she caught a glimpse of the ensuing magical torment happening just a few streets away. With just moments to wake her friend and tug on her cloak, the Sarran sprinted outside on bare claws to pre-warn to the Varran District. For once, she has the upper hand; she knew in vague details what was going to occur from the Hellion Crone she had questioned mere hours prior. By the time the Ooze beast had arrived at the District, she was as ready as she ever could have been. With no weaponry to speak of, Kamirah pelted down the monster with rocks and flint, screeching insults at the top of her strained lungs while her stronger, larger kin fought tooth and nail. Eventually, she mimicked the Warran's bravery upon the summoned clay soldiers--much to her foolishness and arrogance. It seemed that the Hellion Beast rose it's own ethereal constructs just in time, for as the slime being finally began to fall, Kamirah was covered in an uncanny mixture of green goo and her own, adrenaline-fueled blood. Kamirah had lost one of her primary claws, and was striped with slices and bruises from being jostled between adversaries in the ensuing combat. The Sarran was exhausted--but at the least, she felt accomplished. Pushing back her dishevelled, chalk-dyed mane and licking the remnants of dirt from her remaining claws, she painfully hobbled back to her apartment. Perhaps she would seek medical treatment later, when she had completed the sleep she so desperately needed.
Some residents of the Elven District, watched with great pride as ghostly Elvish soldiers fought so fiercely to protect them. Thalion cheered for the graceful spearmen, who he took to represent Salvation. After this, he helped his kin retreat to safety. Only afterward did he hear about the destruction the Hellion had brought... Valeria was among the crowds trying to escape the fury of the two battling beings. They felt fury building in the pit of their stomach. How dare the Void defile their clean, tidy neighborhood? It was repulsive to watch. Whoever was respsonsible for the destruction caused by these two creatures would pay. Cannaesil looked to prayer. Next time, they would be prepared. @TheSilverSpectre @Ailethi
Lillian de Blanc had in the aid of shielding off and distracting the clay biengs in battle, giving her all in this horrendous fight, she stood with multiple other guards and people who fought to protect thier homes and thier city. As the battle raged and come to a end, sustaining only miner cuts and bruises, with a additional cuts through out her body which she didn't mind. Rushing off to aid those in more dire situations, looking them over and keeping thier wounds from infecting until Meds arrived to those who needed. In the end she was still worried and curious where that beast like monster came from. "How odd."
It wasn't normally Don's place to get himself involved with other people and their affairs. Not at least when it came to mortals. But the demonic energies drew him regardless, and the cries garnered whatever shred of humanity still glowered through the filter that was his sanguinism. Hooded, and wrapped, to spare him from the glances of those few that took long enough to glance over his figure in the panic, he set about tearing apart abominations, never staying in one place for very long. He committed what he could to memory, that of the rituals, the faces and the horrors that he saw.
William Seidel fought with the rest of the De Letourineau guard, quickly dispatching of the enemies found near. When recruit Aeoraed Longsae jumped into the fray with several Urls , he knew he had to save the young ambitious fool. Charging in he moved to take out the Urls, with all his might to keep the recruit alive. Most likely picking up a few cuts and bruises along the way. He would manage to get all but one Url, as the recruit William was saving had taken it out, clearly shocked but he acted quickly, forcing the recruit to see the medic.
Falik Nilayn would be fighting alongside the de Letoirneau guard with his short swords out spinning in a flurry of steel slicing through the urls like they were nothing moving with William Seidel to go and save the recruit getting William there safely.
Shirina ran into the battle without feAr fighting along side her fellow violets in order to stop the Urls. Her strength was no where close to the enemy's whom she was fighting but used the skills she had learned in Mariposa to fight off the threat...slashing and dicing her blade at her enemy's. As the battle raged on her armor would had gotten some dents in it from some of the heavy blows she had took, she was beginning to get somewhat tired from pushing her abilities to there limits....after the battle had ended Shirina finally leading against a wall taking a quick breather looking towards the other guards around but now was no time to rest as there was still more to be done...The Ooz has been defeated standing next to her comrade Joasaie..She looked at the Ooz and gave a disgusted Look under her helmet. She around at the damage that was caused looking towards her other comrades....whispering to her self. .."Did we win or is this only the start of something much larger.....?
Robert Carwell wiped his bloody nose after an Url had tackled him. It had been a long day of fighting with the other violets, and he had no real grasp of what had happened. He looked to the wreckage of the city and frowned in thought.
Marvin Bethell: His thoughts would mean nothing as he'd hear the bells of the Church, looking towards the destruction with the fear. "This city is dying.. I don't think the Divine Militia will be able to stop this nightmare by themselves." He'd say as he'd go inside his home to prepare himself with a couple Avanthar Axes in his hand, while waiting. William Alexander: The Bloodcast would rush out of his home from the hearing of the bells, running as fast as he could too the Red Citadel for his weapons and armor, only whispering too him. "Spirit, give us the strength to help us this day.."
A’isha was perched on a nearby ledge by the time the battle was through in the High Elven District, the ends of the stave that was balanced over her shoulders caked in Void-tainted clay and the Voidling seeming more than a little ruffled by the entire situation, especially with the ghostly apparitions of Elven warriors from ancient times vanishing or chasing after the tide of fighting as it poured into the neighboring districts. There was an excitement to the unknown, but a magical incursion four days into her stay in the city was not how she was planning on spending the next few weeks studying. For now, however, she could only stand and follow along the trail of conflict, and do what needed to be done in the name of her shadowed, patron god, her new home, and magic itself. Perhaps she’d think on it later, over kaffee.
Garth Viduggla, awakened in his estate by the clattering bells, gave a final glance to the sight of his son before making haste for the Red Citadel, his cousin Frejnir Viduggla and Shane Marth in tow. Forcing his way into his Violet Order armor in quick fashion, thoughts ran through the Northerner's mind as of what was to come- He had heard already spreading panic blown far out of proportion on the way. Taking up the infamous Skagger Axe that was his trusted weapon and round shield, did he exit the Citadel with men and women of the Crown Isle Wardens. Upon the sight of the Urls clambering and injuring the Imperial Dragon, the Viduggla's thoughts faltered ever so slightly as he tucked them away, bellowing out orders to restrain the Url and protect the Dragon on account of the Lord Commander. In the midst of battle, Garth took notice of the use of blades, slicing through the once loyal legion to the Emperor. He opted otherwise, flipping the axe in his hand to the blunt edge, as the loss of such lives were unnecessary to him. There he began to make his way forth, the clash of metal, horns, skin, and shouts of struggle ensued and filled his ears, drowning out all else. In no way was the Velheim a true match in strength for the Urls, taking a fair share of strikes and fell to the floor multiple times. However, whether by aid of a fellow men-in-arms or by his lonesome, the Northerner managed to rise his feet each time he was knocked down, ever-more tired than the last time. His axe connected with skin and horns, yet did it rarely puncture and cause bleeding- He favored blunt force for the sake of keeping his opponent's breath to live another day. By the end of it, and the call for the clean up of the city, one would find Garth Viduggla among those resting due to the stress he and the others he was with endured upon their bodies. Though, not for long- The Northerner would be found among the clean-up crew soon enough. He worked silently.
Shane was a bit surprised at the sudden call to arms, yet none the less followed the pair of Viduggla Wardens to the Citadel. His hopes were that the times soon to come were not that of Ichabod's debauchery, or of the Dragon Takeover as a more recent example. He did not wish for sudden Chaos. Shaking his head he barked out to the Wardens behind to fall into formation behind their and his commander. Upon arrival to the scene the eyepatch bearing swordsman threw away his sigg to the ground, going into a sprint after Garth gave the order. He drew his blade, and began to engage. The Claith gave no heed to using the flat of his bastard sword, though did not intend any mortal blows. Disarmament was his goal, and he mostly succeeded, save for the odd moment where his hand was forced. The sight of the Dragon both unnerved and fascinated him. It's massive size was of a mythical proportion in his mind, though these wanderings in his mind were drowned out by sudden Url attacks. He didn't even get a good look at the Hellion and Slime. After removing his helm, Shane rubbed a plated hand down his face before sheathing his blade to assist with the pickup. Not simply stopping at the square in which he fought now only almost always faithful Url, his eye was caught by the clay remains. Picking up a small piece of a finger, he stuck it into his pocket and continued. A good momento of the day's occurrences, he thought. (OOC: If he cannot have that clay for some reason, that is fine with me, but either way woop progression.)
Cieli stood in the street outside her home in the elven district, eyes to battle on the rooftops, her face twisted into something akin to an expression of surprise, confusion, and as the situation progressed, fear. As the clay men fell and began to attack those around her, she briefly hesitated, then turned and ran. She took note the appearance of those ghostly apparitions with the helmets adorned with eagle wings, but she did not halt to stare. Even though hey were not attacking her, not yet anyways, yet she ran on. She fled to the next district, and the ones after that, all the way to the citadel. As she arrived, the Altalar found her fellow guardsmen preparing to enter the fray. She rushed down into the armory, hastily pulling on her armor and picking up the closest weapon to a stave she could find before returning up top, and joining the lines of those preparing to march into battle. After that, Cieli found herself rushing into battle alongside her fellow guardsmen and women. The Altalar slashed at, hooked, and danced around the mind controlled Url to help restrain, or more often than not, subdue them. She followed each command given to her, and kept on fighting, even as the weight of her armor became more prevalent and took its toll. After the battle, Cieli found an unoccupied spot next on the wall of some building or another, and gratefully fell against it. She was sore, and knew she would be finding bruises all over for the next few days. There was also what she suspected to be a gash in her thigh. Or maybe it was big cut, it did not seem to be bleeding heavily. It hurt, though. She eyed a healer as they made their way over. After a brief questioning, they got to work on her wound. She stared ahead, trying to not look at the healer as the did their work, but still let a few yelps and cries as she was fixed up. As the healer finished, though, Cieli muttered a question, to both herself and her healer. It about something she had just remembered seeing earlier in the day and was, quite frankly, having a hard time believing. “Why the void was there elven soldiers from the old days in the city?”
Maddi de Letoirneau Rode throughout the city on a alongside her husbands forces, giving medical aid wherever needed. the surgeon found herself growing tired after a while of riding around the battlefields, her paralyzed voice box closing up as she rode, she cleared her throat constantly, coughing as she rode through the clay men, casting nervous glances in the direction of where her husband, Cyprien de Letoirneau, was fighting. she gasped quietly as her horse suddenly reared with a high pitched shriek as one of the fiends swiped at the nobles steed. Caught off-guard, the frail woman slid off the back off the horse, landing on her rump with a silenced shriek. her horse stayed by her side, rearing and whinnying with anxiety. Madeline sat on the ground, all breath knocked out of her, she gasped for many moments, finally stabilizing, she glanced around at the chaos, emmiting a shaky breath as she whispered to herself. "Mi amor, I hope you are safer than I." she tried to rise, though only to fall back down with a pained expression, she was broken. The woman worried for her horse, who seemed to be her only protection. she couldn't call for help, not with her voice. Grasping onto the lowered reins of her steed, she scooched towards a rather peacefull allyway, dragging herself with her elbow, trembling, her breathing uneven and heavily strained. she hid behind empy barrels and crates, beads of sweat dripping down her forhead. she coughed yet again, closing her eyes, her back against a cold stone wall. the nervous whinnies of her handsome buckskin horse, Magic, were the last noises she heard as she fell into a deep sleep. Kingsley Miller ran through the city, wooting his crazy little head off, literally jumping on the clay men, ripping into them with his nails and serrated teeth. Ah, he was having fun. though Much to civillians dismay, He didn't stop at the Clay men. The adrenaline filled little brood attacked anything in sight, biting onto flesh and ripping away, running off to the next 'enemy', senses hightened and stamina unlimited from the blood he'd consumed. eventually, long after the battle had ended, he grew tired, heading to the Teahaus to enjoy some home-made cookies and a nice, long rest. he sat down on the stairs, placing his bloodstained face in his equally as bloodstained hands, with a frown, he realised the red liquid couldn't have belonged to the clay men... "Wha' jus' 'appened?" Tyliss Kra'zzla was safe and warm in her home, clutching tightly to her youngest daughter and grandson. humming lightly to them as she stared into the fire place, her fuzzy brows knitted together in thought. Her husband fought outside with the other Varrans yelling and war crys could be heard from outside. She sighed, smiling to the two younglings in her arms, "How about I make some hot Cocoa?" @Nathan (ur wife is huRTED) @RightChat (if fawzi wasnt fighting im sorry he is now l m a o (jk ill get rid of that part if he wasnt)) @avemechanicus (owo)
“If you people are trying to cause my head to explode with the loud bells at such an hour, its working” Halfdan Edon muttered against his pillow as he awoke to the sound of bells disturbing his sleep early in the morning. He attempted to solider through the sound and return to sleep but when the sounds of battle and terror also began pouring through his window he jolted up and kneeled on his bed and looked out the window to see clay figures clashing with guards and citizens alike in the street. Upon seeing this his eyes widened in surprise and he forced himself back off the bed so fast he stumbled and fell face first on the floor, also knocking the half empty bottle of whiskey off his nightstand. He picked himself up from the embarrassing moment in a hurry and spun his head around the room desperately looking for where he left his clothes. After finding them scattered in various places around the room he put them all on. He then put one boot on and hopped to the door on one leg while putting on the other. He rushed out the door to join the fray but returned to the room a few seconds later after forgetting his steel long sword by his bed. After retrieving it he rushed out the door a second time and went outside. Upon exiting the inn he drew his long sword and took a moment to look around at the chaos enveloping the city. “What is its with this fucking city?” He muttered shaking his head in disbelief. He had only been in the city for a few days and it had just been one dramatic event after another, though this one undoubtedly topped the list. He then rushed into the fray and assisted the guards and brave citizens dealing with the clay warriors. He fought with them for as long as it took to root them out of the city. When the fighting was finally over, Halfdan looked to the violet order solider he was standing next to and shrugged while still trying to catch his breath. “At least....at least my hangover is gone I suppose” he said chuckling then leaning against a wall and lowering himself against it to sit and rest. He managed to acquire minimal injuries during the battle, the bruise on his face from falling out of bed being the most significant. Sitting there Halfdan couldn’t help but wonder what actually just happened. What the hell were those things? This has been a real shitty first significant experience with the supernatural. Whatever those things were hopefully it will be the last we see of them, but given the scale of what just happened I can’t say I’m optimistic. Whatever this was it is likely just the beginning. Hopefully I can at least get some work out of this.
Cowardly as ever! Akeno Hamasaki simply stared spooked and frightened by the disastrous sight on Mainstreet. As the halfling panicked, he lit one match at the Digmaan's call for flames! He tossed it at the goop gathering along with the rest of the box alongside Jae-Seong Ma. Soon after, he fleed the scene cowardly with a slight squeal and a roll of cursing and praying Tatsugo. @Carlit0o @Rochelle_
Dhorn Borbek heard of news quickly in the early morning hours of the Lunar Club. He gave the word to the few that came to see him, only to hear the battle draw close. Guiding and escorting people as swiftly as he could out of Old Town, honoring his personal code and defending those that couldn't defend themselves. The rush of battle pumped into his system had him fighting off clay men for who knows how long, he lost track of time, only focused on his task. Once the battle subsided just a quickly as it started, it left him bruised and bleeding profusely. He didn't expect Void entities of clay and slime to fight as well as they did but he would recover after some self-medicating. He would assist and patch up the wounds of those that fled the battle once he wasn't at risk of blood loss. There was a deep feeling his chest that told him that this all was a sign for worse times to come.
Stood in the background, Rosseau de Letoirneau drew forth his longsword, admiring the sheen as he patted numerous Letoirneau guardsmen upon the back and pointed them to position. He took a somewhat deep breath and made his way over to stand by his cousin, giving the Cyprien a small nod and grinning somewhat. "This is a creature unlike any I've seen before." The Knight of d'Homme glanced about the great mass and shook his head in disbelief. His sword tip rested unto the ground as he uttered a small prayer and rolled his shoulders, finally giving a small nod and raising from his knelt position, charging towards the enemy with his blade held high, letting out a loud battle cry and growing faster with each footfall. After only a short battle and having been pushed back by the invading force, he fell back behind his cousin's troops, tugging his ragged clock up upon his shoulder and re-adjusting the clip. "The battle this day is lost, cousin. We'll try again tomorrow when the timing favours us."
Ke'wince Gavenmore had just finished watering the last of her plants in her home before she felt the rumbling and horrific sounds of battle from outside. Peering through her window, she could see the Evergrowth Guardian and Slime spawn duking it out a distance away. Frozen in fear, all she could do was helplessly watch as they battled. Returning to her bedridden mother, she laid with her and assured her everything was fine, and that there was nothing to worry about, even if she was shaking in fear and hugging her mother a bit tightly. After it was all over, she sought to apply her healing skills where they need be applied. Seamus Gallagher was pissed that he had to skidaddle from his drinking, hearing that the area he was in was being invade by strange, demonic clay men. As he fled, he saw one and tossed an almost empty bottle at it, which obviously aggravated it. Ill-prepared for retaliation, he needed to be saved by an individual who was fending them off as people fled, and they shot a stink eye towards Seamus. A bit embarrassed, her stayed in the background pretending to be of help, when really he was just standing around like an arse. Peter Rollins heard from a good friend of his that the city was being invaded by large-scaled battles that stumbled into different areas. He found himself distracting his family with some of his drawings, and even drew pictures with his sisters for their mother. They found it odd he was staying inside for a change, rather than going out and sharing his drawings, but it seemed to be appreciated all the same.
Allar globadiers recount the losses of the alchemical armaments kept within the regiment station within Regalia for the time being. A hulking tower of scales moves up and down the ranks inspecting individual warriors as they relaxed and regenerated from the exhaustion of the night's chaos. The collection of cold-blooded folk gathered about the Digmaan within the circle of greetings and there he began to speak, "Utter madness unfolding within the heart of the Empire... My hopes for a salvation from a war-torn country to be buried by the sinister amalgamation of Demons and Ancients. My mind is spinning from the revelation of these powers, but I will eventually come down. And when I do, there will be answers I seek. Fortune favors the bold, Allar. Continue your projects, this only proves there are more powers sown into the world - and soon we shall begin the reaping."
