Open Chronicles Atlia Calls for Aid [Noct Yaegir]

As disoriented as he'd been made, he was quick to regain his composure and have his senses once again about him. Quick enough to hear Emmeline call out. He was up to his feet and in place to reach out, grasping his sword and deftly bringing it around, prepared for the onslaught of yet another foe.

But for just as quick as he had been, Emmeline too was swift in her thinking. Drawing her own blood, she managed to catch the attention of the wyvern and in doing so gave them an opportunity.

Though he was without a horse, he could move quickly enough for a short time. Taxing as it was, he closed the gap between him and the wyvern which swung around to give chase to his companion. The act left its rear all too vulnerable to Erën's sword, which came swooping down as Erën hurled himself toward the assailant.

With a flick, its tail curved away, catching Erën's eye. Were he any slower, the wyvern's barb would have found purchase upon him, but with an almost desperate flail of his sword he managed to swat it away just as his feet were upon the ground.

He leapt away then, but the wyvern decided to ignore him and continued to give chase to Emmeline.

He would not keep up so well now, but he followed after anyway.

---

Emmeline did not have time to acknowledge the removal of one of the wyverns's tail; the second had caught wind of the blood, its nostrils flaring as its companion loosed a bellow of agony. The warrior staggered, and the shift of her stance almost proved deadly. The wyvern still in possession of its posterior appendage poised to strike, the barbed end of its tail drawing back before launching forward at the much smaller woman. Emmeline was forced to throw herself, but because her training lay in the use of a greatsword, she lacked the agility to properly roll out of the way of its stinger.

The woman moved to scramble, flipping one leg over the other to try and catch balance as she hit the ground. Emmeline barely missed being skewered as the barb struck the ground where her abdomen had just been. Sweat glistened on her brow and as the creature recoiled for another strike, the other twisted, still favoring the bleeding woman over the man that had just detailed it. The creature jerked forward, connecting its snow with Emmeline and sending her sprawling to the side again. Then, with another cry, it lunged with an open maw.

Landing with her back to a wall, the woman was easy pickings at this point and the creature opened its maw. Snapping at the warrior with every intent of eating her, it was once more Emmeline's quick thinking that saved her. As the wyvern tilted its head to better snatch her up, she brought her sword upward and using the wall for momentum, leapt to her feet and pushed off of it, seemingly throwing herself willingly toward the wyvern's gnashing, fanged maw.

And then there was another cry as she brought the blade across in front of her, angling it to cut into the roof of the creature's mouth. Using every bit of force that she might normally apply with her familial sword, the warrior drove the blade further upward, ignoring the stench of the wyvern's hot breath as it broke through to impale the creature's brain.

The wyvern bucked it's head, flailing in an attempt to dislodge the metal from its mouth. Emmeline's grip on her blade slipped, leaving her to fall to the ground once more. A grunt left her throat as she looked up, watching the creature die. She didn't see the second, rearing in for another attempt at stinging her.

Eren'thiel Xyrdithas

The first man was likely dead within hours, and so Aderyn drank deeply from his emotions, stripping him of as much as he had flowing out from him. Fear and misery were the strongest, unsurprisingly, but the rest did sit below, swirling around in his thoughts as regrets and unrealized desires flashed through his mind.

They compounded the Misery, allowing her to fill her reservoir to bursting as she took it away from him. By the time she was done, he couldn't feel it anymore. It was burned entirely from his head. She poured a small amount of sedative into his gaping mouth, his jaw too damaged to keep itself shut anymore.

She consumed his emotions in full as he fell asleep, leaving his mind a dull husk of what he was. Though he was already so very little, and less as the minutes slipped past.

"Do we have any clean water?" she called out to the room, hoping someone would take it upon themselves to bring it to her.

The next patient beside him was an easier case, one that didn't seem a waste of energy. She placed a turquoise stone in his hands and made him hold it over his chest while she focused on the worst of the wounds, internal damage that would be fatal given time but was likely small enough to be mended.

Her Charity poured out into him, pulling together his cuts and scrapes and restoring what was broken beneath. She tapped into it, the Charity engulfed her and the urge to make him whole again, perfect, well more than necessary grabbed hold of her and begged her to keep going. But she resisted and pulled away before she wasted what she had.

Again, a sedative and sleep, and she would recover the turquoise later. She had more, and he certainly needed it.

She moved on to her third. There was so much blood there, and she called out again for water before pulling her sleeves farther up and getting to work.

Looking, he didn't see the poignant response offered by Monroe. As they rattled to the edge of the square he made to leave the wagon and draft beast behind, intending to walk. Wyvern had done enough already; didn't need to run anyone over with a rickety wooden hauler too.

Palm finding its way to the pommel while the other hand hung still, bloody eyes panned over their surroundings. A flare of the nostrils brought in the acrid bite of cooled fire and ash, and his eyes were filled with the black of fresh burned wood.

Standing, surveying, he didn't budge towards anyone. His still arm shifted, bringing an armored fist to his chin in thoughtful fashion. Life went on but... this felt off, given the response the girl had already gotten.

"Make a bet?" He asked, quite suddenly.

"You mean a bet like... fifteen coppers saying that the wyvern has gone elsewhere?"

She frowned, slowly turning on the spot to regard her partner with an odd look. Monroe began to wonder what sort of Yaegir Sagarus was, for working alongside him was nothing she had anticipated when it came to cooperating with someone other than working by herself. Blatantly looking at him with a touch of scrutiny, she raised a brow. "Or does twenty silvers that you're going to get a proper answer out of someone enough to feed your ego, sir?"

Erën grew somewhat frustrated as the combat ensued. Emmeline's tactic of drawing the wyverns to her, while valiant, was a terrible risk. But as the same time, it had been he who had gotten them into this mess, leaving himself so vulnerable as he had.

He came upon the scene where both wyverns had inevitably been drawn to as Emmeline drove her sword up into the skull of one of the wyverns. It recoiled and flailed about in agony as its life came to a bitter and torturous end. As he approached, he leapt up and over the beast as it collapsed, even placing his foot upon its ruined heap to propel himself up into the air to come upon their final foe. But as he did so, it was clear he would not clear the gap soon enough to come to Emmeline's aid.

So he threw out his hand, and his body became alight as arcane lightning burst forth from his palm. The act forced him down onto the ground where his feet became planted. It struck the wyvern as it charged forth and drove it too downward onto the ground. Erën relented as the wyvern collapsed into a sprawl, and its momentum carried it up and over itself onto its back.

As he started forward, the wyvern struggled and urged itself back onto its feet, and with a shriek and a snap at him which caused him to halt in defense, it turned and promptly fled away from them.

Rather than give chase, Erën went quickly to Emmeline's side, "are you alright?"

With nothing more to be done for the farmer's child and the impending collapse of the barn ever present, Wren tore away from empathy and grabbed the man around the middle, peeling him off the lifeless body if only to save at least one. He protested mightily in her arms, yelling through his tears until his voice had gone hoarse as she waded through rubble and debris and heaved him over the pile near the entrance.

This wasn't a movie scene and they didn't make it out just in time for the total demolition of the structure, but one good blow of wind would surely see it done.

"We'll get his body when we're sure it's safe!" Wren snarled at the man as he begged to be let go upon reaching open ground outside, "I swear to you I will retrieve him in the daylight. Listen to me-"

The smack that hit him across the face crumpled the man to the ground in the way that the barn seemed adamant to resist. He gasped and sputtered through globs of tears wetting his wrinkles and beard.

"Is there anyone else?" Wren insisted as she knelt before him and grabbed him by the shoulders, "Does anyone else need help? Don't let their lives be on your failure to speak up!"

"I-" his voice cracked, "I don't think so. We rounded up everyone to the church once the attack started. It's the only building here made of stone... we didn't think it could destroy. My boy..." fresh tears welled in his eyes, "he went back looking for his dog in the barn."

Wren heaved a sigh and swallowed the annoyance of potentially also having to look for a dog.

"Right, well, then let's get you back with the others so we know everyone is accounted for. My colleague is already there helping the wounded." She pushed to her boots and hauled the man to his own and lead him by his arm back to the church, just to be sure he wouldn't try diving back into that barn once more.

"Aderyn?" Wren called as they stepped inside, "I think this is the last of them. Has there been anyone confirmed still missing?"

Luckily, given they were heading into the mountains, Castro had quite a lot of clothing to give. Jacket was a deal breaker, but everything else save for his trousers seemed fit to sacrifice. There was, sadly, no blood on anything. Well, that wouldn't quite do, now would it? "Allow me a moment, Darkstride. Instinct is not an easy thing to override." he replied without much ceremony, digging through his pack to find a hunting knife.

He brought the blade to the open part of his arm and cut, gritting his teeth through the sting of the wound. When a little bit of blood had pooled at the spot, he took off his hat with his other hand and wiped away the blood with it, proffering the now slightly redder item to their chief tactician. "I hope that will do, but I don't feel like losing any more blood even if it will not."

He sighed a bit as his mind registered Darkstride's last warning. "As for your other concern, it is appreciated. However, I never take on a quest with such a possibility far from mind." That much was true. Yaegirs accepted their jobs fully aware they might be stalking their very last monster. In Castro's opinion, in fact, those who did not feel that creeping notion upon their spine were missing the point.

Losing all sight of the gravity and weight that came with working for the sake of others was something he was determined never to allow himself to do.

Sigrith

Erën said:

Rather than give chase, Erën went quickly to Emmeline's side, "are you alright?"

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The downward drive caused by the arcane lightning was just enough to save Emmeline from being skewered by the wyvern's barb. Her heart pounded in her chest, face red from the exertion which seemed to be a constant side effect of a warrior like herself wandering outside the comfort of Alliria. She had much to learn about dancing with creatures that wanted to kill her, and it was something she would be better off learning sooner rather than later.

As the second wyvern fled, Emmeline bent over slightly to rest her hand on her knees and breathe in deeply. A moment's respite before she said what anyone that knew her would say:

"We must go after it, before it returns for these villagers."

If she'd heard Eren's query, she didn't respond to it; her own safety sat at the back of her mind, and the idea that that creature could return to slaughter innocents, children included, ruffled her non-existent feathers. She understood predators, she knew to predators that all food was the same, and yet there were children here.

"Nonsense," he replied, his sword sliding firmly into its sheath once again, "by way of flight it will already be long beyond our grasp. We cannot hope to follow it now."

He approached, and from afar surveilled her, "you and I both should rest for a time, and find out what we can from the locals. Only then might we find where it has been nesting. With the loss of its... friend," he gestured the to the heap behind him, "it will probably dwell there for a time, and lick its wounds."

He offered his hand in a friendly gesture, seeing she had been willfully wounded, "besides, if we leave now in a fruitless search, we risk leaving these people unguarded."

---

Wren said:

With nothing more to be done for the farmer's child and the impending collapse of the barn ever present, Wren tore away from empathy and grabbed the man around the middle, peeling him off the lifeless body if only to save at least one. He protested mightily in her arms, yelling through his tears until his voice had gone hoarse as she waded through rubble and debris and heaved him over the pile near the entrance.

This wasn't a movie scene and they didn't make it out just in time for the total demolition of the structure, but one good blow of wind would surely see it done.

"We'll get his body when we're sure it's safe!" Wren snarled at the man as he begged to be let go upon reaching open ground outside, "I swear to you I will retrieve him in the daylight. Listen to me-"

The smack that hit him across the face crumpled the man to the ground in the way that the barn seemed adamant to resist. He gasped and sputtered through globs of tears wetting his wrinkles and beard.

"Is there anyone else?" Wren insisted as she knelt before him and grabbed him by the shoulders, "Does anyone else need help? Don't let their lives be on your failure to speak up!"

"I-" his voice cracked, "I don't think so. We rounded up everyone to the church once the attack started. It's the only building here made of stone... we didn't think it could destroy. My boy..." fresh tears welled in his eyes, "he went back looking for his dog in the barn."

Wren heaved a sigh and swallowed the annoyance of potentially also having to look for a dog.

"Right, well, then let's get you back with the others so we know everyone is accounted for. My colleague is already there helping the wounded." She pushed to her boots and hauled the man to his own and lead him by his arm back to the church, just to be sure he wouldn't try diving back into that barn once more.

"Aderyn?" Wren called as they stepped inside, "I think this is the last of them. Has there been anyone confirmed still missing?"

Click to expand...

Several soon-to-be-dead victims of the attack later - and fortunately a far larger number of those she could stabilize - Aderyn sank to the ground against the wall beside her last critical patient. She breathed in slowly, deeply, and released with a loud sigh, tapping the back of her head against the wall a couple of times just to verify she was still awake and could still feel things.
She studying her hands in front of her. They were covered in blood, dirt, and any manner of other filth. This, as far as she could remember, was the busiest, bloodiest experience she'd had since Alliria was besieged. Then, though, the line of wounded seemed to never end. At least here, the village was small and everyone was already in one place.

Aderyn lifted a piece of quartz from her necklace to place it between her teeth, grasping it tightly as far from the dirtied end as she could. She tapped into her Desire, focusing intently on the quartz and on the grime and fluids coating her fingers.
Deep within her a pure, animalistic need began to grow. She wanted, though what she could not yet say and so she stayed focused on the task at hand. The longing would find a target of its own soon. That much she knew, though it was rare that she employed this particular talent.

As the hunger roiled in her, the mess on her hands began to flow up her fingers, beading at the tops of her fingertips and dripping upward into a ball just above her hands. Loose strands of hair seemed to fall forward and hang horizontally toward the disgusting conglomeration of filth spinning in front of her. She shook her head to pull her hair away but more just fell into place, threatening to dip into it.

She moved her hands farther out to save her hair and red-tinged water began from drip up from the floor into her collection. As the colors swirled and combined and she shrank the sphere into a denser form, she lost herself for a moment in it.

"Aderyn?" Wren called as they stepped inside, "I think this is the last of them. Has there been anyone confirmed still missing?"

This broke her out of the spell she had cast on herself and she shot up to her feet, the orb still floating over an outstretched and now much cleaner-looking hand. She would still have to wash, but at least she didn't feel as dirty as she had.

Around the piece of quartz in her mouth, she said, "Na, I dink dich ich ewewyone."

She kept her eyes lowered as she approached Wren, unsure of what to do about the sphere of noxious human broth and not wanting to meet the eyes of any of the villagers. But it would have been rude to greet Wren looking away, so she looked up as she neared. The Desire found its target, and she scolded herself in her head, no... entirely inappropriate... it's just the magic... stop.

Hoping she had no tells, she simply tried to smile and spat out the quartz to say, "Are you good? Nothing you need help with?"

The sphere dropped and splashed against the floor between them.

"Oh Gods, I'm so sorry!"