Dreadlords Fell Tides

[Elias]

'Āina o Ka Lā

A fleet of vessels headed by the Stalwart Dawn, one of the dreaded Blackforts of the Anirian Navy, drifted over the sea like death and cut through the waves like razors. Noncombatant deckhands scurried about the ships as their destination loomed on the horizon, one of the many small islands that surrounded Ryan's Bane.

The ravaging carried out by Cerak Corsairs along the Cortosi Coast had at long last earned the attention and ire of Vel Anir. The campaign overseen by Archon Naja Arkai had seen islands, sea forts, and outposts one after another rendered to nothing but ashes. Prisoners, scarcely taken. The Anirian Navy had been flies upon the sea, and when the Archon called for it, they set upon the pirates a terrible reckoning, leaving naught but corpses in its wake.

She stood, ever proud, ever powerful, at the Stalwart Dawn's bow. Behind her, gathering their arms, guardsmen and Dreadlords readied themselves for an assault upon the largest stronghold yet.

The Sundowner

Aboard a smaller ship flanking the Stalwart Dawn, Elias Sirl assisted a young guardsman with the fittings of his armor.

"There ya go, mate," Elias said as he drew a strap tight, then gave the soldier's breastplate a light tug, "How's that? Loose at all?"

"N.. No. Thanks."

The Initiate fell silent as he watched the guardsman anxiously fidget and set his eyes on the speck of a fortress along the distant horizon.

"What's your name?"

"Marcos," he said, swallowing hard.

"Don't worry, Marcos," Elias slapped the back of Marcos' breastplate, knocking the smaller man off-balance, "You trained for this, eh? Fight with your brothers, and you'll be invincible."

With a closed hand, Elias lightly knocked Marcos' chest with his knuckles and sauntered off towards the bow for some momentary peace.

 

[Alistair Krixus]

Alistair was walking down the ship, inspecting some of the equipment for the soldiers. He would nod in satisfaction or offer some helpful advice. He mainly gave advice to novice soldiers, the ones most likely to die in this endeavor...The first battle was always the toughest.

He spotted Elias and overheard his conversation. After speaking to one of the soldiers, Alistair made his way over to Elias at the bow of the ship.

"Is it ok to lie to them?"

Alistair did not ask it in a chastising or judging tone, but out of genuine curiosity. It was his instinct to be more honest with people, but maybe he should be more inspiring during these circumstances.

"This won't be that easy. A lot of these men and women are going to die." It might not have been the most sensitive of comments, but it was just a fact that could not be avoided.

Elias

 

[Samantha Black]

While Elias and Alistair were making themselves to be supportive of the accompanying Anirian Guard, Ralene kept to herself. She sat off to the side with another veteran soldier, cleaning and honing her blades in a wordless conversation of understanding. It started several hours ago with a look and a quiet grunt. She knew the man to be Captain Arren Holstag - a man she'd spent some time working alongside on various missions in her youth. Being groomed to join the Anirian Militia specifically, Ralene knew many faces within the ranks already.

Arren was a man of few words and that was something she could respect. He was a decent swordsman, but a better tactician if his survival to an age that showed in the white of his beard and the thinning of his hair said anything about him. When Arren paused in the act of sharpening his shortsword to glance up at the two initiates, Ralene could not help but pause as well and follow his gaze.

The man narrowed his gaze while he watched Elias help the younger soldier, then tracked the movements of Alistair across the ship. He grunted.

Ralene raised her brows and resumed her own attentions on her dagger, "Yeah," she replied, with a short glance skyward to clear blues illuminated by a radiant and unforgiving sun, "he's got a...sunny disposition, you might say."

 

[Dreymon]

There were few things that Drey disliked more than the new Republic, but pirates? They were on that list. So when the call came for mercenaries to fill out the rank and file, Dreymon would answer the call. The nice wages and share of the war spoils sure did help too.

Located away from the Guard and the Dreadlords, Drey and the other mercenaries were likely to be the fodder, at least they would make up the forward lines. They weren't members of the Guard and if they died, they didn't need to get paid, nor was there any promise to pay their families.

Drey was by all appearances, the oldest of the mercenaries getting ready. He had his cuirass strapped over his chain shirt and gambeson with his coif reinforced to protect his neck. He wore both bracers, both metal gauntlets, and had adequate protection for his lower half. To an outside observer he would appear to be an extremely wealthy mercenary.. to someone with a good eye, he would appear to be something more. Along with his hand and a half sword, he kept a kite shield strapped to his back as more protection, a warpick at his waist, and a javelin in hand at all times. His blade itself was positioned in the rare shoulder scabbard, proof that he was skilled enough to draw from there and be successful.

Kitted up, he sat atop a stack of crates, tankard set beside him and smoking pipe in his hand. Death was welcome, but he doubted it would find him today.. it seldom ever did. "Easy lads." He would say to any of the mercs fretting. "If you're meant to die, that thread has already been cut. No point in getting your panties in a bunch over it."

 

[Ein]

The Stalwart Dawn

"Look, it's not that I think this whole thing is a waste of time." Ein said, arguing with one Lieutenant Ilse Albrecht. "It's just a bit overkill."

He glanced over towards Archon Arkai, only to see if she was listening.

In his experience the woman had always had terrifyingly good hearing. He had not been present at the invasion of Coraliv, but had been a part of the Initiates later sent to suppress riots and several insurrectionist cells.

His loud mouth had gotten him in trouble more than once during that time, and he'd made sure to keep his tongue a bit more quiet through this campaign. "Give me like three of the Initiates and two other Dreadlords and we could get this done without all the..."

He waved his hand at the Guardsmen, the vessels arrayed all around the Flagship.

"Ein, first of all, not every Dreadlord can fly, so you'd need ships anyway. Second these are strategic operations. They're meant as a show of force. We're sending a message, not just taking out pirates."​

Ein turned his head up to the sky, uttering a quiet curse as the good Lieutenant offered him yet another piece of tutelage in politics. "Fine."

He said dismissively.

"But it's a bit much is all I'm saying." The Phoenix offered, flickering a weary glance back towards the Archon.

 

[Elias]

Alistair Krixus | Ralene | Dreymon | Ein

Elias leaned against the railing.

"Eh, don't be stupid, Krixus. What use is a soldier too scared to swing their sword?" That lie would go a long way. Hell, the greenhorn might even cut one or two men down before dying himself. There was something Mars Pallatrix had said about dying, but the words just wouldn't come to mind. How maddening.

"I don't care." Elias pushed off and wandered back across the deck, dismissively waving his hand as he called back to Alistair. "If you don't want to join 'em, better stick with me an' Ral. Best believe I'm finding her when the fighting starts."

***

It would be a short while until the fleet came in range of the stronghold's first line of defense. Palisades had been quickly built along the beach that they could see from a distance. Behind them, movement.

Commander Glencour, who had seen many swift victories during the campaign, stood on the quarterback. Gathered around him, other officers and sergeants. They were silent, awaiting Elias, who stood amidst them with one hand over his eye.

"They're organized. A column of footmen. Several archers and mages with them."

"That'll be all, Sirl," the Commander said, dismissing Elias back to the main deck.

The Stalwart Dawn

The first cries of battle sounded from the Blackfort.

"Braaaaace!"

An arcane comet exploded in the sea next to the flagship, rocking the vessel and throwing seawater onto the deck. Volleys of magic missiles and arrows rained down on the fleet as it approached.

The ocean writhed and responded to the Archon's beckoning. Preceding the landing parties, massive waves would crash into the beachfront fortifications. Geysers and spouts of water would erupt around the ships, blocking them from the death that rained down upon them.

The guardsmen and Dreadlords packed themselves into rowboats to begin the assault. The Archon would remain behind to defend the fleet, and as the smaller crafts that held the main force made for the beach, the defenders focused their fire on them instead.

Commander Glencour was the first to set foot on the beach. The old veteran drew his sword, raising it aloft, and called for a charge. An arrow immediately struck his neck, and he crumpled into a lifeless heap in the shallow waters. The men with him rushed past, letting loose a mighty collective roar. One after another, boatloads of soldiers would pour out onto the beach to make the charge on the damaged palisades.

 

[Alistair Krixus]

Alistair snorted as Elias left his side. He had no plans to die today...That did not mean that he would not fight next to the others. It just made sense to fight next to those that you were the most comfortable working with.

He looked back at the greenhorn that Elias had been talking to. A little lie never hurt anyone. At least, no one that mattered.

***
Alistair would look to make his way into a boat with Elias and Ralene and some others. Between the three of them, it would take some heavy-duty magic to actually take them out before they made it to the beachhead. There was also Ein, who was always nice enough to him in the Academy, but they did not croth paths a lot during that time mainly do their difference in abilities, but he might not even decide to get into a boat given his abilities.

Anytime arrows got a little too close to their boat, small wards would deflect the projectiles just enough to send the arrows off course.

As they arrived on the beach, Alistair could not help but think that it would be smart for Glencour to keep his head down...aaannnddd he was dead. He should have kept his head down.

"I guess this is where the fun starts."

Alistair looked over the battlefield sending a few bolts of arcane magic in the direction of archers that he determined to have enough skill to require being taken out in the early stages of the battle.

"Ral, you want to go next?"

Elias Ralene Ein Dreymon

 

[Dreymon]

The Beachfront
​

Gone was the leisurely smoke, gone was the gentle rise and fall of the Blackfort as it cut through the water. Now there was only chaos.

As suspected, the mercenaries were the first to get sent and they went without the protection of mages or Dreadlords. They were naught more than the pawns. Dreymon stood at the front of the boat, his shield raised before him as the men who weren't rowing locked their shields at the sides and overhead for what protection they could receive. "Row! Row like you still have something to live for!" Drey laughed as they drew closer. Battle was what made the former Paladin feel alive. And gods above be damned, he would make it through yet another battle without them.

All around them boats with mercenaries were rocked or destroyed by bursts of magick, some of the men being thrown overboard, only to drown as a result of the weight of the very armor that protected them. Arrows pelted against shields endlessly, with so much force it could cause an unseasoned arm to ache by the time they landed.

Drey blocked out the sounds of the dying, he could care less about them. His boat lurched as it beached, and he jumped off with a roar. A looked behind and he could see Glencour and the wave of Anirian soldiers behind him, their number dotting the wake like ants. No true Anirian invasion began until their boots landed.

Shield lifting, he roared to the mercenaries around him. "Lock shields, you dirty sea rats!" He would laugh heartily as those around them did the same. Laughter was always unsettling on a battlefield. With a few groups of mercenaries landed, the Archers and mages would focus on the real threats as the column moved forward.

"Javelins!" Drey would bark as he lowered his shield and hefted his own, hurling it over the heads of infantry and striking one of the Archers.

Behind them, Glencour began to shout something about the glory of Aniria, before thankfully one of the Archers cut him off. A frenzied roar would echo behind him and he new that there would be no order as they rushed the gate. That was how large armies were destroyed.

"Butcher the bastards!" Drey roared over the shouting and his group of mercenaries would hasten their advance, colliding with the line of footmen. As they closed, Drey would pull his warpick free and lock his shield with the pirates, before swinging the pickside over the top. A sickening squelch and a spray of blood would blind the man behind him. Drey would side step and tug down, pulling the corpse down and past him, before driving his shield into the second footman in the column.

Some guardsmen would rest a long spear on Dreys shoulder as a guide and lunge it forward, gouging the footman in the eye and forcing him to his knees. As the man withdrew the spear, the haft would hop and the blade would knick Drey's cheek, and with a curse he would kick the footmen into the man behind him and step over both. He trusted those behind him to kill those he stepped past.

With the mercs reinforced by the Guard, they would shatter through the small column and continue onto the archers, mages, and damaged palisades.

Elias Alistair Krixus Ralene Ein

 

[Samantha Black]

It was a bright, sunny day with birds swaying along the sea breeze and sand crabs scuttling in and out of the lapping waves.

Then the Anirians arrived to scour this picturesque landscape with hellfire and blood. With the boat rocking violently beneath her feet, Ralene stood sure-footed among those waiting patiently as the forward charge of Mercenaries landed on the beach, calmly adjusting the last pieces of her armor into place. Despite being the only female in attendance, her figure cut a threatening silhouette as their boat slowly drew nearer the beach. A fiendish shape of spikes, slashed by black and red, idly watched the rain of incoming arrows like a gator might watch vultures circling overhead.

Flashes of arcane magic reflected in her frigid gaze as she dropped her final piece of armor into place: a helmet crowned by horns. Though Commander Glencour's battle cry died quickly in his charge, the Mercenaries that surged onto the beaches next did so swiftly and efficiently - a testament to their leader who seemed to be well in command of his men.

With waves lapping at the sides of their boat, Ralene turned her gaze briefly to Alistair. She wasn't smiling this time. Captain Holstag stood from his seat and plunked his own helmet into place, "Black," he grunted, "is that the one you call Sunny?"

Ralene's gaze shifted to Elias and though her lips did not move, the smirk showed in her eyes, "Aye, Captain. That's him."

"Spring him."

Ohhh, she liked this plan, "Yes Sir."

"Right, fill them in."

"I guess this is where the fun starts."

Alistair looked over the battlefield sending a few bolts of arcane magic in the direction of archers that he determined to have enough skill to require being taken out in the early stages of the battle.

"Ral, you want to go next?"

"Eli, you're with me. We're getting to the wall and I'm going to give you a lift up. Al, stay back with Captain Holstag's crew and keep us covered. Once we're up, head for the main gates and wait for the welcome party." Ralene was remiss to enter a fight without some kind of plan in mind - truthfully, this fort didn't stand a chance. They could have just beset the citadel with a wash of Dreadlords and called it a day, but the Archon wanted strategy and cohesion. Ralene would deliver both without complaint. And who could really complain? The weather was nice, the day was warm, and the expected resistance was ... well, negligible, all things considered.

They would tear down the pirate remnants of the isles and Cerak would become just another smoldering wreck to stand as example of what happened when you fucked with Vel Anir. Rolling her shoulders, she shifted forward to depart from the boat and waded through the shoreline waters up along the beach with the air of a placid predator. A single word uttered within her helm cast a shimmer of red light over her armor upon which arrows pinged away with a crimson sizzle and spark.

Glacier eyes surveyed the scene of the Mercenaries pushing forward through the palisades and then upwards along the embankment of stone upon which the fort sat hunkered. It had been built to withstand the fury of the seas, and no doubt the mages presently hurling their firebolts and arcane missiles felt very confident indeed. She stilled, briefly, as one such missile the color of virulent green came arcing through the sky toward them. Ralene set a boot back, loosed another word beneath her breath, and curled her clawed gauntlet at her front. Magic sparked along the metal plating as she held the gauntlet up before her, palm open, and caught the missile. The force of impact shoved her planted boots back through the sand several feet, but the ball of explosive energy shivered violently where it sat ensnared in her hand.

With a snarled word and a twist, she then flung it with so much force it went screeching through the air on a direct collision course with its originator. The explosion upon impact with the wall was both abrupt and brilliant enough to cause panic and distraction among the defenders. Ralene didn't waste a second - that would have bought them a few short moments of free movement forward, so forward she moved.

 

[Ein]

"Ein, get in the fucking boat."​

Ilse meant well, she really did, but he did wonder if she actually understood. The mass of Anirians was rolling forward. Dreadlords, Guardsmen, mercenaries all slowly pulled closer and close to the shore. They were a mass of roiling power. Some throwing arrows, other balls of pure energy that was enough to sunder entire citadels...much less the people that guarded them.

Ein still stood on the port of the ship, leaning haphazardly against one of the railings as the Guardsmen below tried to urge him forward. "Just fucking go."

He groaned, his head tilting back in annoyance.

"I guarantee you I'll ca-" The words died on his tongue as he looked up and away from Ilse and towards the figure at the prow of the ship.

Archon Arkai was staring at him.

Naja was a fierce woman. The sort that had a reputation for slitting throats. The sort that even Ein didn't want to mess with. Her gaze set a cold chill down his spine, goosebumps prickling over flesh that was little more than fire.

He felt his muscles tightened, his back stiffen. Eyes set upon her, and slowly the Dreadlord drew himself up from the railing. A slow, shallow breath drew into his lungs.

Then without a single word fire sprang from his back. Flickers of red and blue sprouted from his flesh, drawing outward and painting the picture of wings. The pulled themselves free from his flesh, and without a word drew into a solid beat. His form flickered, drawing from the deck of the ship, and then within a whirl of flame sprang around him.

Ein launched from the deck of the ship, his form flickering into a comet of brilliant immolation.

A line of fire drew across the sky, cutting through mist and burning an etching line through the air itself.

Ralene's magic exploded outward. A pulse of stone and pressure, tearing into the enemy and ripping apartment the battlements. Defenders and cataphracts screamed in pain, torn apart by edges of stone and rock.

Then seconds later and inferno exploded among them.

Ein appeared, a vanguard before his brethren. A holocaust beyond the walls.

Fire bloomed out from the Phoenix, bursting through the lines of those beyond. Ravaging flesh and scorching earth. Screams of pain turned to retching cries of utter horror as flesh bubbled from bones, and blood turned to slate.

The simple, grotesque brutality of a Dreadlord arriving upon the isle.

 

[Ventress]

THE BRAUN VIRAK​

"Have a seat, Dreadlord. Observe," Major Charles Huntington said. He himself was sat upon the deck of the Braun Virak along with a few other high-ranking officers and at least one other elected representative of the Anirian Parliament. Servants attended to them, bringing fresh food and glasses of wine. The Braun Virak had once been a part of a similar foray against a pirate stronghold in the waters of the Cortosi Coast, but now it stood anchored behind the Stalwart Dawn and well away from the beach of the target island.

Ventress stood at the railing, hands folded into the small of her back, watching without a spyglass as the assault upon the pirate stronghold commenced. Her gaze was outwardly hard, inwardly forlorn. Somewhere amidst that assault was Lord Elias Sirl.

And the brass knew it.

There was no reason for the Braun Virak to be here. No reason for Major Huntington nor any of the other non-Naval officers to be here, nor any Parliament members. They had a fabricated excuse dripping with overly official and ultimately vacuous reasoning: nonsense about fostering combined arms tactics between the Guard and the Navy. Yet here they were, treating this as if it were an excursion for a brief vacation. Major Huntington himself was lounged back in a long chair, the top four buttons of his coat unbuttoned, the hairs of his chest poking through his dress shirt beneath. Disgustingly casual.

Ventress knew the real reason why she and they were here. It was not about fostering any tactical relationship, nor was it the excuse Huntington provided her when she challenged him directly: "We're here with reserve units, in case the assault goes poorly." Inane drivel. The assault wasn't going to go poorly. Not with Ein present, and most certainly not with Archon Arkai herself present. None of that.

Ventress was here as punishment.

Major Huntington had proven to be her foremost adversary in the military. His ego had inflated to insufferable levels ever since he had been elected to the traitors' Parliament. He had grown quite frustrated with Ventress's opportune bouts of insubordination, and this was his clever ploy to assert that he, that the military, was in control. That they had power over her. Maddeningly outside of the reach of her Projections was Lord Elias Sirl, a mile away on the beach of that wretched island. They intentionally brought her close to him, to one of the last remaining scions of House Sirl, and kept her from getting too close. Forbade it, and dared her to break their command whilst a host of officers and elected officials watched on. They wanted her to provide them with the fuel they needed to make an example of her, and to send a message to each and every Dreadlord who might harbor the notion that the Revolution was in truth a Rebellion.

"We decline."

She did not sit, as Major Huntington offered.

Ventress watched from the deck of the Braun Virak, seething, made helpless by the bindings of politics.

(CAMEO, DISREGARD IN THE POSTING ORDER)​

 

[Elias]

"Eli, you're with me. We're getting to the wall and I'm going to give you a lift up. Al, stay back with Captain Holstag's crew and keep us covered. Once we're up, head for the main gates and wait for the welcome party."

"You won't miss our signal, Krixus," Elias said through grit teeth as he balanced himself on the rocking boat.

Following Ralene's lead, he leaped from the boat, landing with a splash in clear, shallow waters. As he marched alongside the armored woman, wisps of reds, oranges, and yellows swirled around his form, enwreathing him in coursing star-fire. Arrows audibly cracked against his shroud of flame, the mantle hissing as the projectiles splintered into tiny smoldering fragments and littered the ground in his wake.

When Ralene was pushed back, Elias pressed on without a breath of hesitation. He stomped through the sands, and seconds later, the girl had returned the missile to its caster. Elias watched with a guffaw as the verdant streak of wild magic screamed an arc through the air and exploded against the fortifications.

Suddenly, a mass of silvery-blue struck the center of his chest and exploded, engulfing him in a cloud of magic and dust—which he then sprinted from, smoldering but unharmed, kicking up sand behind him. The fire that clung to Elias as he'd brazenly strode up the beach had been spent to protect him from the blast, but the empowering golden light remained in the young man's eyes.

Somewhere along the way, another Dreadlord landed amidst the defenders. And coupled with the opening secured by Ralene, the pair arrived at the wall without any difficulty.

"So, like before?" Elias said as they came to an abrupt halt, "Running start, boost, and boom? This wall's higher. Will you manage?"

 

[Alistair Krixus]

Alistair sighed but nodded his assent at the strategy. While the other two moved on to do their thing, the rest of the crew would overhear Alistair mumbled as he began to draw runes in the air.

"You know, for someone who has spent his entire life working on perfecting his swordsmanship, I get asked to cover people from the rear a lot. Why don't I ever get to do the cool stuff."

Even as he complained the runes that hung in the air around him fired off. His observational powers guided the bolts of arcane energy through the air like homing arrows as they crashed into targets that were in the process of trying to bother the other dreadlords. Apparently, there was a reason he was always asked to do this. It was because he was good at it.

The grand appearances of the other dreadlords powers brought a tinge of jealousy to Alistair's heart. He should learn to make his powers more impressive looking. Maybe he could add more circles to his runes, just for aesthetics...Damn, that sounded lame even to him.

"The rest of you. When I go to the main gates, I guess that means you follow, so try and keep up...or don't."

Elias Ralene

 

[Dreymon]

In days now long past, Drey could have rivaled the Dreadlords display with his divine might, bolstering the hearts of men and blasting through the gates with ease. But that was then, now he accomplished all deeds by the sweat of his brow, he didn't need the gods, divine or otherwise.

The footmen were utterly devastated as Drey and the rest of the regular forces pushed past them. "Signal the engines!" Drey shouted out and the call would descend down the lines. Ladders were pulled from boats, a ram was gathered from one of the Dreadlords more impressive boats and soon merc and Guard alike were advancing on the gate.

Drey wouldn't be one of the men on ram, he was leaning against the gate with one of the Captains he had remained in contact with the Guard, Captain Codrick. The old Captain had taken a pause to drink from his flask, while Drey procured his pipe, packed it, and lit it.

"Drey what do you think so far?" Codrick would ask, shouting over the men as the ram made its first impact with the gate. Beyond the walls they could hear the panic.

The former Paladin would take a strong pull from his pipe, one metallic finger from his gauntlet tapping the rim, before he exhaled a perfect ring. "Having all these Dreadlords? Overkill. Could have taken this fort with just the Mercs, just the Guard, or just them." They turned their heads as the second impact came.

Codrick took a pull from his flask and offered it to Drey, and the two made the exchange. Codrick took a pull from the pipe he took a pull from the flask. Arrows rained down on the ram, but the slight overhang ensured the pair of men were protected. On the third impact, the gate shifted and buckled.

"Come on now lads, is that the best you can do for your country!? Put your backs into it!" Codrick shouted with a sly grin to Drey.

"You're a cheeky bastard, 'Rick. Gods help the poor louts that serve under you." Drey responded back as they returned the others guilty pleasure.

Each man took a final pull from flask or pipe and each was tucked away. On the fourth hit, the gate groaned fiercely before a bolt of arcane energy collided with it from the boats and the gate blasted inward, toppling the men bracing it.

"Captain." Drey said with a bow of his head as his free hand grabbed the hilt of his sword.

"Die for our great nation, you filthy merc." Codrick ordered with a smirk.

"Trying to. Think she's allergic." When the dust settled, Drey was the first to step through the gates, the rest of the men forming eagerly at his left and right as they advanced on the retreating pirates. A quick look around would suggest they were fleeing from from some Dreadlord basked in flames. But the men needed encouragement. "They break before you lads!" Drey shouted out and a series of men mocked the fleeing pirates as the advance quickened.

 

[Samantha Black]

Ein's timing couldn't have been better. Ralene's gaze tracked his entrance across the sky, pinning at the explosion of flames that followed shortly after his landing. She side-stepped a fresh hail of arrows and moved just off Eli's shoulder to close in on the wall. Her steps slowed, eventually came to a halt, and the Initiate took a moment to crane her gaze upwards.

"So, like before?" Elias said as they came to an abrupt halt, "Running start, boost, and boom?"

Ralene nodded in the affirmative.

"This wall's higher. Will you manage?"

That garnered him a narrowed side-eye. How dare he doubt her? "I'll manage."

Would she manage...

He was right about one thing: this wall was higher than last time. About twice as tall, if her memory served well. But last time she'd just bruted his weight up without aid. Hadn't been hard - Ralene could bench press Eli without breaking a sweat - this time she'd give him an extra boost. Turning, she lowered herself into a half stoop and locked her gauntlets together, forming a step for Elias to stride into. The intent was to take the momentum of his leap and launch him upwards by pushing herself up and hoisting his weight skyward in time to his jump.

Only this time, moments before his boot landed in her grasp, she muttered a word of empowerment for her strength.

 

[Elias]

If a look could kill, Elias would have been cut down in ten different ways. He sniffed and put some distance between him and Ral. She set herself under the wall and he began to gather a considerable amount of magic. With a nod between the two, Elias exploded into a sprint. He planted his foot down into her hands and, with her empowerment and his enhancement, was launched several feet above the wall.

Elias' short-lived flight was clumsy and undignified. As he began his rapid descent, he let out a short yelp and flailed his arms.

The pirates within the fortress had no time to react as he fell, and just moments before hitting the earth released his stored magic in a scorching flash that blinded any of the defenders who unwittingly gazed upon his arrival and burned the rest to ashes. A sound like thunder rippled across the island, and the earth tremored along with it.

The Initiate groaned as he clambered to his feet in the crater his explosive arrival had made. A sharp pain shot through his shoulder, not from the landing but from an arrow that struck him. Darting across the smoldering carnage he'd caused, Elias made for the gate where he expected to rendezvous with Ralene.

 

[Alistair Krixus]

Alistair's runes would flash before streaking out through the sky and striking any brave combatants that thought they might get a lucky shot at any of the other Dreadlords. He nodded in satisfaction as he struck a couple, but he did not get to much of a chance. Ein, Ralene, and Elias brought down so much destruction that there wasn't really anyone that could hope to attack them, for the moment.

Well, Alistair wasn't exactly sure what the signal was supposed to be, but if Elias' large explosion wasn't a good enough signal then nothing would be.

"Alright everyone, shields up and heads down. Follow me."

Alistair weaved through the battlefield, dodging the hail of projectiles. He was even kind enough to throw up a few barriers to protect some of Holstag's men. Normally, he wouldn't care all that much, but he knew Ralene liked the guy. Besides, the amount of actually good Captains in the guard was few and far between in Al's eyes.

Eventually, Alistair made it to the gates and was surprised to see that most of the soldiers, including Holstag were still with him. Holstag was a given, but the rest had managed to survive thanks to discipline and training.

They arrived along with another company of footmen that had made pretty good time. It seemed that a brutal melee was just starting to break, so Alistair dove in with his blade, deciding to try and show off a little bit before they completely turned and ran.

Ralene Elias Dreymon Ralene