Siris gently bounced the handles of his axes, driving the encroaching numbness out of his fingertips with the refreshed sensation of pain. He forced down the fear that was building in his stomach as he faced a monstrous, ogre-like creature. It had every intention to kill him and he knew there was a strong chance it could. Letting out a roar of defiance, the Avanthar charged. It had only been a few hours prior when he heard the bells ring. He had been dressing himself again after a particularly eventful night; however, what was once considered ‘eventful’ to Siris seemed to pale in contrast to the happenings of this city. At first, he seemed unalarmed by the sharp ringing. It was only as he turned back to the bed he had stayed in last night that he realized this was not a usual occurrence. The once elegant, graceful frame of a woman was now a twisted knot of anxiousness and fear as she gripped the sheets closer to her chest. “What is it?” “Is it not obvious?” “I know I am new to this place, but that sounds like the church bells to me” “They are but… the white smoke….. Something has happened” Despite his uneasiness, Siris was not spurred to action at first. It was only when he saw the masses of imperial troops and Url warriors marching down the street outside that he knew something was truly, terribly wrong. Gathering his weapons, he set out to investigate, figuring he could possibly find someone with use for a sell-sword if there was battle to be had. The battle he found, however, was unlike anything he had seen before. The brutal clashing of magical titans and the ensuing destruction and chaos below was far different than the skirmishes he had known in his youth or the bounty tracking he had done before. Recognizing the threat within the clay men as they swarmed the innocent bystanders, he rushed into the fray, letting loose six arrows mid run before drawing his axes instead. What happened afterwards was a blur of hacking through demonic summons as he fought alongside many of the imperial soldiers who in the chaos of the fighting, were more than willing to welcome an elf to aid their efforts, especially one with such proficiency in combat. And so, Siris found himself taking on an ogreish summon, weaving in between its heaping strikes to hack at its legs in a futile attempt to bring it down. With the beast distracted, the imperial soldiers either backed up or moved to further assault, believing the elf to be sacrificing himself to hold off the creature. Eventually, the battle drew to a close with the Hellion defeated and the Ooze monster drifting away in the river. As the soldiers returned, they found a lone Avanthar, kneeling on the cobble with a confused expression. Siris was seen by a healer before being sent home, exhausted.
The High Reverend paraded through the halls of the Cathedral early in the morning as news after news reached to his attention by his informants and fellow Clergymen. Godeffroy IV had busied himself with sending Reverends from all around the archipelago to the ongoing battle to perform their exorcism rituals in hopes that it would change the tide of the chaotic and miraculous happenings. Once he was finally to himself, the Holy Father made his way towards the window of his Office, and began spectating the event from the very top of the Cathedral. The holy man was reduced to his knees, hands coming together as he began a prayer. "May the Spirit pull us through these times and cleanse our Holy Lands from such abominations and creations of the Void. May our prayers reach you and bring forth your strength. These Daemons and unholy Creations that plague our lands shall be removed permanently in time."
Jakob Ludevar was clad in full armor, the armor which had been gifted to him by High Reverend d'Goss, so long ago. He marched from the Grand Cathedral alongside two dozen Inquisitors and Helerians, intent on joining the fray against the demonic threat. With his excorcisms and their might they fought what seemed to be days. His sore throat, his arms and legs weak. But in the end he was still on both his feet. The threat was seemingly gone, was this the pyrrhic victory worth it, he though, yet he banished the defeatist thought almost immediately. Later once the Reverend had regained some of his strength, he began to help in the cleanup of the city, none of his staff was spared, all would be equal this day.
Frejnir followed suit behind his cousin towards the Citadel. There he equipped himself with his armor, and his reliable Skagger axe. Once he and his fellow Violets approached the commotion in the streets, he took a moment to watch what was unfolding before him. He did not feel afraid, nor shocked- he merely grumbled at the sight, his eyes rolling, pessimistic as ever. “I thought October was over.” With the shake of his head, he pulled his helmet on, and brandished his Skagger axe, and upon command, he threw himself into the fray. Just like the others, he fought without the intent to kill, using only the blunt of his axe. By the end of it, he’d leave the scene bruised and exhausted, and snuck off to find alcohol.
Vrastone: Stood organized among the fellow De Letourineau guards, holding his Beoral Axe tight making sure no De Letourineau was harmed not caring about his own well being.
(A bit late to reply, I forgot to post, but hopefully this will still be canonised) Abelhard Rote, the Lord Inquisitor was the one who ordered the bells be rang, yelling for his men to rally as he spotted the flames turn as he returned from patrol. He saw the artefacts be used. He fought alongside his brothers in faith, saw magic beasts bring ruin to districts of the Imperial City, and felt small. Though he joined the chants and prayers of his Brothers in the Synod, while fending off foes with his warhammer, he couldn’t be sure if his efforts even contributed. That night, after tucking his children to bed, and ensuring his wife was firmly asleep, Abelhard crept downstairs and prayed before his shrine to the Spirit. “Your Holiness,” he began, “You have shown us such strength today that I am even more enamoured by your glory. And though, I am sure my recital of the scripture, as my Brothers did, contributed in some way to the direction of your Divine Justice, I have to beg. Imperial Spirit, I beg to be used as a tool for you and your flock, a weapon of the faithful and a man indomitable to the heresies I face every day. I shall give my bodies over to your scriptures, as a symbol of my allegiance to your hallowed words. Imperial Spirit, I beg for the power to see the Great Way achieved: to contribute in my own way.” He paused for a moment, his breath shaky, “Neben Mir.” He said finally, going to slip back to bed.
