Open Chronicles Monsters On the Pyre

[Levat]

Strahlvel - The City of Monsters

Levat watched from a roof top as the city burned.

Beyond the walls Trebuchet still tossed heavy stone and fire urns across the already tumbled walls. Every time a piece of rubble struck the earth itself seemed to shake, a building falling as another fire was struck somewhere in the city. Somewhere in the distance a scream echoed, someone cut down or perhaps grasped by the throat as their life was choked away.

It had not been much of a siege. Stahlvel had never had much more than a small, City Watch, and it's walls had not been built to withstand a force such as the one that had come calling. If he had not known better Levat would have said that the enemy came from nowhere, their army surrounding the city in a matter of hours.

The City of Monsters, as it had once been called, had not been prepared for this fight. Nestled in a tight valley and built against the the wide reaches of the Bystra River no one had never thought someone would be foolish enough to attack. Strahlvel had once been a haven for the outcast. Vampires, Lycanthropes, Tieflings, and even cultists had called this place home.

No one had cared what you were here, no one had even bothered to ask.

It had been sanctuary for so many that would be called monsters that most had simply assumed they would be left alone. Such things were folly in the face of man it seemed.

Levat had awoken to fire and death. Dusk had brought chaos, and as he had stepped into the street he'd been met with a man in full-plate swinging a silver edged blade towards his head. He had been swift, slicing for his throat and only missing by the barest inch as Levat had town his stomach from his abdomen. A dozen more had come, and the once Anirian Guardsmen had fled.

He had not recognized the armor, it's make up strange with only a single mark emblazoned upon the shoulder; a dragon biting it's own tail over a cross. Levat did not know these men, but they most certainly knew this city.

They swarmed over it like a plague, taking no prisoners and eradicating the black marks of Strahlvel as though possessed. He had seen others move among them, marching, and slaughtering those that bore the marks of evil. Levat did not know these either, but their purpose was no different than those in armor.

The Vampire scowled, his eyes casting away from the crumbled walls and towards the Harbor.

It was the only way out now. At least the only one he could see.

 

[Sei]

Choked by smoke and ash, the skies above Strahlvel rained down with stone and fire crushing homes and business along with those who inhabited them. Here and there shapes could be seen between pillars of fire and clouds of dust, occasionally small groups of the figures dropping down into the streets below, great wings spread in their descent. To those who had never seen such creatures before, they seemed as angels called from on high to strike down the unrighteous, but the well travelled knew full well that the Anaveti had come.

A Knight Captain of the Holy Order of the Goddess, often simply referred to as The Order, Sarael had marched with her sisters. The Goddess opposed and hated evil in all its forms and the holy tomes and scriptures were clear on the fate of all evil. As she glided over the skyline of Stralhvel, she plucked a bulbous clay flask from her belt and ignited the tiny wick protruding from to top. She spotted a likely structure yet untouched by the assault and, pleased she could see at least one individual atop the roof, dropped the incendiary pot below and quietly relished in the subsequent orange blossom of righteous flame upon impact.

Pleased that at least one heretic or monster would likely perish in holy flame, she noted more standing in the streets and courtyards below and in front of the quickly igniting structure. She waggled her wings, a signal to her accompanying Knight sisters, and dropped down. She selected a target and, at the final second, flared her wings and flexed her knees as her booted feet slammed into the man she’d targeted. The impact drove him to the ground and knocked the air from his lungs as Sarael’s full weight and nearly seven foot tall frame crushed him. A flash of silver was all he saw as her sword whipped from its scabbard and slashed his head from his shoulders.

Around her, more of her sisters followed suit, their arrival heralding death and blood. The heretics and monsters before her recoiled and while some surged forward in the vain hope of survival, others fled and panicked to false salvation. Sarael hefted her polished shield and pushed into the mass with her sisters, her sword flicking and darting as the fight began. Soon blood ran in rivulets down burning streets as bodies began to pile.

The Goddess had come to the City of Monsters and would leave only bones and ash in her wake.

Levat

 

[Alco]

Alco thought he smelt smoke on the breeze while he was a guest within the city of monsters. Mostly due to curiosity on how they had managed to live their lives as they did. After all vampires required blood, which he had a feeling came from the occult and a few willing lenders or the unwilling type. Werewolves were werewolves, but they both had so many strains he lost track.

He’d poke his head out of the inn he was staying and saw the impending doom. Uttering a curse in Avariel elvish he takes his double blade scimitar and sheaths it back onto his back. He’d jump out of the window and land on the ground. Looking up he would look at the vampire, Levat, though he would not know his name.

Luckly Alco’s wings were hidden still due to his enchanted armor so he still looked like a normal elf. A Knight, blinded by the rage of battle, ran up behind the Araviel and raised his blade to slash him across the back. But the elf had a different plan and ducked out of the way slashing open the Knight’s back with his blade. Only to snap it into two after.

He would look at the vampire before pointing at the knight finishing it off by driving his blade into its neck. “Need assistance in getting out?” He asks the vampire taking the necklace of the knight’s holy symbol off his corpse and putting it into his pocket. For later. Not many would probably survive but hopefully a few would. “Or shall I go and rid the bitch who is ordering this needless act?”

 

[Hahnah]

Hahnah did not like cities. She preferred the wilderness. She preferred the remote reaches of a deep forest, and it was Falwood that had this in abundance. It was reminiscent of when she was smaller, when her ranger caretakers had freed her from the locked Temple. It reminded her of the time in her life when all was good.

Cities and towns and villages were also all full of people who did not welcome her. Elves were not an exception to this. They, in general, were fearful or suspicious or cautious of her. So Hahnah left them alone. There were times when curiosity would take her, but she most often did leave them well enough alone.

Yet recently she had followed Aldenaxk Drazukel out of Falwood. It had been the first time she had ever left it, the world beyond the trees of Falwood a mystery to her. There were not so many differences--at least not in the place called "the Allir Reach." It was heavily forested, like Falwood. And that was good. The trees were different, but it was still a forest. Wilderness. Remote.

So long as they stayed clear of the cities and towns and villages. Because that it is where many humans dwelled. And that made them dangerous.

On her way back to Falwood, retracing her steps and leveraging familiarity of the land she had already crossed once, Hahnah had one of those times. One of the times when curiosity took her.

This city was different. "Strahlvel," as she had heard it called, was different. First Hahnah--watching from outside the walls--had seen a group of tieflings walking in. She knew what Alden had said about tieflings, that they were not always welcome either. She saw next what appeared to be a group of humans, but as she was stalking forward to slay them, she noticed...odd features about them. They looked like walking corpses.

Hahnah had approached the gate. A woman in red clothing, horns, and tail was nearby. She had been watching Hahnah the entire time, and she cooed at Hahnah, enticing her to not be so shy and to come right in.

So Hahnah did.

* * * * *​

She had hardly spent any time in the city. Three nights. And then the attack came.

Hahnah was sitting on one of the smaller, lower piers of the Harbor; one foot in the water and one foot on the wood. She had been thinking how peculiar this place was. That she actually...might like it. She had been sheepish and shy around Strahlvel's inhabitants. She had not slept in any of the buildings nor had she gone to any of the "shops." On occasion she caught the scent of a human in the air. Not a vampire nor a werewolf, both of which she had only just learned about here, but an actual human. She had not seen any, and she was not sure if the scent was lingering on one of the inhabitants who may have just come from a human town. Other than this, Strahlvel was different. A city. But a city of monsters. A city for someone like Hahnah.

Then came the first volley of crashes. Hahnah did not know what had caused them and did not know that there were trebuchets (or even what those were) outside the city.

She stood. Walked with bare feet and elven grace in the direction of the sound. Curious. More crashes, and she saw a streak of fire curl upward and lick the air above a building. This gave her a slight pause. But she proceeded back into the city proper anyway.

Eventually, she caught sight of the rocks and fire urns being lobbed into the city. And she understood that they were coming from outside. The screams and shouts started. The hurried march of feet started. The sounds of battle started. And Hahnah saw then the armored men distantly an intersecting street to the one she was currently stood upon. Fright and hatred rose in her, but there were many. And men, especially armored men, were dangerous when they were many.

The incendiary pot dropped by Sarael exploded atop the roof of the building Hahnah was standing beside, peeking around the corner of with both her hands on the wall. The sound of the shattering and roar of the birthed flame made Hahnah gasp and back away. She saw things flying away. Winged people. People with wings. They had wings. Wings. They could fly. They were like butterflies.

Hahnah stood now in the middle of the street close to the building newly crowned by Sarael's fire. Lost for a moment in the deadly chaos as she watched with fascination the squad of Anaveti swoop and fly about the dusky skies over Strahlvel. She knew she needed to get away (ironically back to where she had just come from), but in that moment of discovery and seeing something so intrinsically interesting for the first time she could not go just yet.

Levat Sarael Alco

 

[Levat]

He would have missed it.

Transfixed by the sounds of the dying city around him, the sight of the fires growing and welling. He did not even see the winged ones above. Four hundred years and one could lose track of things, and this was no different than that.

It was the voice that snapped him out of it.

The sound was not familiar, not anywhere close, but it was enough to bring him back to the reality in front of him. His eyes first darted low, and then high to the rushing air above. Lips thinned, and then suddenly he darted forward.

Within the span of a breath Levat stood on the building just ahead, a glorious ball of flame exploding out behind him as the urn shattered and erupted in flame. He could feel the heat on his cold flesh, singing the back of his clothes as he came to a stand. "Kill the bitch!"

He hissed at the voice that had spoken to him.

Levat had no real authority in this city. Not beyond what wealth had bought him. Yet the words were spoken with such authority and venom that even a General might have listened to him. His hand pulled at a knife, slicing away burning cloth as he hissed.

The Vampire half turned, spotting Hahnah lurking in the streets below.

"You, girl!" He called down to her.

 

[Sei]

Sarael slashed her blade across the arms of the soldier before her, blood spraying from severed arteries as her sword parted leather and cloth with ease. She slammed the edge of her polished shield into his throat and opened his torso from collar to groin almost as an afterthought. The knight stepped over the fallen adversary and assessed the situation. Her sisters had the advantage in surprise and training, but they needed to maintain that advantage.

“Sisters!” she shouted, her booming voice heard over the chaos of fighting and the screams of the dying. “In the name of the Goddess, cleanse them with fire!”

The shouts of her Knight-Sisters could be heard above the din of battle and Sarael allowed herself a grin as she grabbed another clay flask from her belt. A quick ignition of the wick and she sent the fire bomb sailing over the heads of the mob where it, and many others exactly like it, smashed and ignited. Almost immediately a wall of fire pinned the mob between searing flames and fanatical Anaveti Knights. Among her sisters, Sarael could hear the singing of hymns, the praising words of the Goddess renewing their fervor and zeal as they hacked and slashed through heretical soldiers and civilians alike. She took the leg off what appeared to be a werewolf with a low swing while one of her sisters impaled the foe’s chest with a spear. The foes grew smaller in number, but the Order’s thirst for blood was unquenchable.

Between purifying flames and the Order’s knights, there was nowhere for evil to run.

Levat Hahnah Alco

 

[Alco]

Alco let out a little giggle as he turned to look for someone who looked to be of rank. He would unbuckle a few things from his armor and mess with a bracelet some, throwing it to the ground. The dead knight was laying in a pool of its own blood when he took some of the blood and slathered it across a mark on his wrist.

The songs had started, and they weren't beautiful. They were songs to a fake entity. One that was not proven to exist like the Celestials or the Dark Ones. They at least were written in many books of history in the archives of many cities and people. These people were simply committing a massacre, a genocide of many people within the city. Unforgivable.

The Avariel would look at the closest knight to him, Sarael. In a blink of an eye, he disappeared in thin air. Using one of the Astral Magic spells to bend the light around himself in order to make himself virtually invisible. During which he took off in his silent flight, flying up to a perch to get a better look at his surroundings. Then he'd take off again, this time swooping past Sarael when she has her back turned towards him. Using his dual blade to knock her to the ground with a slash at her back before silently flying back up for another attack.

(OOC: If you didn't know owls can fly in utter silence bc of their wings, which are the wings that Alco has: Scientific Proof of Silent Owl Flight, here's the video proving it so he quiet af)

Levat Sarael Hahnah

 

[Hahnah]

There was a tangible feeling, a knowing, when someone was speaking directly to you. And despite the battle and the clamor that came with it, Hahnah heard Levat calling down to her.

She broke her gaze away from the flying Anaveti. Looked to Levat (Alco she had not yet seen) and in that split second thought him to be human. An orb of Elemental Hatred--churning white, black, and maroon energy--sparked into being in her palm. Then she recognized that the man who had called to her was not a human. He was like those other men, the men Hahnah had thought of as walking corpses. He was a vampire. Unless Hahnah was mistaken. Unless there were humans with eyes that were white like that and skin that was paler than even the fairest elf. But she did not think she was mistaken.

She dispelled the orb with a flick of her wrist.

"There are many!" she called back up to Levat. She pointed back toward the docks. "There were none at the Harbor! But here there are too ma--!"

A small heavy cavalry unit, five armored horsemen, appeared around a corner in the direction Hahnah was pointing. The whinnying of the horses caught Hahnah's attention, and she looked from Levat to over her shoulder at them. The cavalry unit lined up, pointed their silver-tipped lances forward, and clogged the street with the breadth of their formation. And they charged.

Hahnah had nowhere else to go with so little time. Nowhere else to get off of the street.

Except inside the burning building. The very one Sarael had firebombed.

Hahnah dived in through the blown out door just as the cavalry thundered by, not stopping for the sake of dismounting and slaying her but eyeing other targets just down the road--and indeed somewhat past Levat.

* * * * *​

Hahnah lay flat on the floor inside. Smoke choked the ceiling into obscurity, and little flashes and flickers of the orange flame raging on the rooftop and burning through could be seen through the black and gray.

It would be dangerous to get to the Harbor now. They were already so close inside the city.

Would the vampire be alright?

Levat Alco Sarael

 

[Levat]

More fire.

More death.

More blood.

The air of the city was rich with it, and Levat knew what was once a haven had become a Hell. There was no survival for the city of monsters, no way that it would not be turned to ruble by weeks end. This army, wherever it was from, had found its target and the people here were suffering for it.

The winged man that had shouted towards him disappeared, the angels above cut through the monsters below, and Levat watched as below a charge of cavalry nearly trampled the girl he'd shouted to.

It was clear that the Inavders did not acre who or what they slaughtered, only that the city ran red with blood. His nose twitched, the scent of crimson high in the air as he jumped down and landed with a this in the street. The sound of his landing cause one of the Knights to whirl around, his helmet shifting to look back towards the Vampire.

He did not alert his allies, instead whirling around on his horse and quickly charing back. Levat let out a curse, and then turned on his heel to reach up and grasp the charging horsemen.

He felt a lance pierce through his sides stabbing through long dead flesh and piercing organs that had ceased their function an age ago. Levat let out a hiss, and then ripped the rider from his horse. There was a sickening squelch as muscle and bone were separated, and with a single rent of strength Levat tore the rider into pieces. His horse let out a whinny, then charged quickly down the other side of the street.

Levat clicked his tongue, then quickly mvoed into the building the girl had fallen through. "Girl!"

He shouted in search.

 

[Sei]

Blood flowed and heretics burned as the fighting continued. Sarael paused in the melee for a moment to assess the situation, an action that may have saved her life. The brief moment of pause brought her awareness not to a sound or sight, but to something more. A twist in her gut, a prickle on her skin, a sense of danger that could not be ignored. Sensing the Goddess' touch, she heeded the warning and ducked as well as she could. A blow that should have severely wounded if not outright killed her glanced off the plate armor she wore and left a burning sting across one wing, the subsequent warmth a sign of drawn blood. She kept her balance and stood, weapons at the ready, as she spotted the vague and faint outline of shimmering distortion moving through the air.

"WITCH!"

Her shout cut through battle and hymns alike, alerting her sisters to the new, unholy danger they faced. She flexed her wing experimentally, feeling that the wound was superficial despite the pain, and kept an eye on the mage that had attacked her. She readied herself for the next attack, knowing it would come soon, and let her own voice join the renewed hymnals that grew in strength around her. With the Goddess’ strength and presence, she would deny the witch that stood before her and offer its head upon the altar of the Goddess upon the battle’s end.

Alco Levat Hahnah

 

[Alco]

Alco rolls his eyes at being called a witch. They were so stupid, witches dealt with magic, yes, BUT it was more herbs and nature stuff. The bright side was that he did knick her wing though. He opens a tarot card pack from his little spot on the chimney of a roof and looks at it. What were the fates going to bring to this lowly being?

He would not reveal that to just anyone, that was his own secret. Placing the card between his middle and pointer finger he tosses it into the air and it just disappears into thin air. Playing the game of strike and retreat is going to get boring in a city. That kind of strategy was better in forests or mountains when things were more natural and not man-made. No matter they did ruin his relaxation time.

The card would reappear back into his hand and a thin beam of magic comes from it and lands on the ground right near the captain. The earth would start to split some, emitting a blue glow from it. Then whisps of blue energy blow up into the air. A second later the earth erupts in a torrent of blue magical energy, rocks and earth scatter around. If she tries to dodge he would simply have it follow her. Leaving a trail of exploded earth in its wake. He was still cloaked with his light bending magic, so after a few seconds he would stop the laser and would take off again to a different spot.

Levat Sarael Hahnah

 

[Hahnah]

Hahnah whirled around onto her back. Through the hazy interior of the building she could see Levat there by the doorway. His silhouette was not large and bulky. Not armored. Not one of the men on the horses coming in after her.

"I am here!" Hahnah said as she stood up, inhaling some of the smoke and coughing after she had said here.

She did not know this man. All she knew was that he was not one of the armored men nor one of the flying people--they who were attacking Strahlvel. Both Hahnah and him had something to gain by being together. It was very much like when Hahnah would find packs of monsters in the wild and sleep in their company, in their lairs. They often knew when humans or others were approaching, protecting her even if they did not intend to while she rested, and Hahnah could help slay the hunters who came for them when they did. It was a word Hahnah was familiar with. Symbiosis.

Hahnah brushed past Levat and cautiously went back outside and onto the street. Taking in a big gulp of the fresher air as she was briefly doubled over. Somewhere inside the building came a crash as the ceiling partially caved in, and a whoosh of heated air and tiny flying embers blew out from the doorway. Hahnah's hair gusted slightly, and the apparent fur on her body wriggled in a manner that--after a moment's observation--was clearly unnatural. As if the "fur" itself had come alive in that moment before going inert again.

"My name is Hahnah," she said to Levat, looking apprehensively up and down the street as she spoke, her words hurried. "I was at the Harbor. There were no armored men there. I would like it very much if we went together. It would be better."

At that last part she looked to Levat, hopeful that he would think as she was thinking.

Levat Alco Sarael

 

[Tlalli]

Fire.

Tlalli's nostrils flared as the smell of smoke and ash filled her senses and drove her into a blind panic. Fire was the one thing her kind could not regenerate from. Fire was death; certain, ever-ending death. It had not been something she had expected to have to deal with in the City of Stone the Outsiders seemed to favour. She had been told it would be a safe place for a being such as her and so far from her jungle walls, she had needed something safe. Somewhere to regroup, rebuild, to just think. Everything had been such a blur since she had been smuggled out of the palace in the dead of night with the assassins on her heels.

It seemed she had shaken off those killers and won herself new ones by coming here.

It had been the shouts from others that had first roused her from her sleep and set her stumbling into the streets to see the fireballs arcing into the city. Screams filled the air as buildings toppled and bodies were laid out flat on the pathway barely breathing if at all. She found herself being pushed and pulled with the tide of people attempting to find an exit to the city but everywhere they went were soldiers in their strange metal suits or fire in their path.

Can't... breathe...

The sheer panic of the people was creating a crush Tlalli found herself in the unfortunate heart of. She wriggle desperately, trying to break free of the frenzies tide of people. Shouts went up about an incoming cavalry attack and suddenly the crushing weight of bodies dispersed as they all ran for cover in different directions - at least, as many directions as the tiny street afforded them. It was carnage really. A few managed to duck into burning buildings, favouring their chance with the flame than the blade, but the majority were cut down and slain. Left to rot next to toppled apple boxes and crates of goods.

In the confusion, Tlalli dropped to the floor gasping air into her crushed lungs. On all fours with her head bowed, she didn't see the oncoming soldier...

 

[Sei]

The problem with magic is that, if one understood what to watch for, it could be reacted to before fruition. Usually. The blue glow was a brief telltale to the subsequent explosion of earth and rock, but was all Sarael needed.

Rather than tumble away or run as more terrestrially bound individuals would do, she instead launched herself into the air, her wings spread to their fullest extent as she sped up and away. Behind, the ground ruptured and shattered, but ahead she knew the shimmering air lay in wait. A Witch could only cast unholy magic if they drew breath and Sarael knew how to fix that particular problem.

She ripped one of her last clay pots from her belt and, igniting the wick, hurled the fire bomb where she could see the distortion in the air. The knight didn’t bother to wait for the resulting splash of flame and heat, instead opting to rush in, shield raised with sword ready for a savage attack. She would kill the witch, the heretic, and the abomination in the name the Order.

The Goddess willed it.

Alco

 

[Alco]

Hey, weren't those the firepots that they used to burn people to death? Why yes it was, and Alco was not planning to be burned to death this day nor any time soon. With a quick beat of one of his wings and a jump, he launches himself out of the way when he sees her pull it out and ignite it. The avariel lands on a rooftop and whistles dropping his invisibility spell.

"You know. No one 'ere was wantin' to be a vampire o' werewolf. In case of your dull mind cannot read some book other than yah holy scripture it's not really somethin' to be born into. You need to be bitten." He'd take out the necklace he took off of the knight he had killed and spins it around.

"I was just a simple guest here, not really affiliated with these guys until you fucking damnable zealots attacked aiming to commit a massacre." Another card flashes into his hand and a dome of pure darkness engulf the surrounding area for about ten meters. Nothing could see in nor see out.

He would then swoop down behind her using the cover of the darkness spell he had cast to his advantage. Once again slashing at her wings but this time with the intent to mangle them. He knew there were major blood vessels in wings, if one was knicked it would be a long-drawn-out end.

Sarael

(Alco has a Scottish/Irish accent in my head so have fun)

 

[Levat]

Levat looked down at the girl.

There was something...off about her. He could not have said what. She appeared human, she smelled human, but there was a sense to the girl that he couldn't quite place. The Vampire frowned for just a moment, glancing down the street.

In the distance he could see more flames, the smoke of several manors burning. Towards the docks things were less chaotic, but even there he knew it would not be safe for long.

He looked down at the girl for a moment more. Levat had long since lost his fatherly instincts. Such thoughts and desires utterly lost to him. His fingers tightened, and then he clicked his teeth as he motioned for the girl to step up besides him. "Come on."

At the very least she would make a good meal in emergency.

With quick steps the two of them moved, shifting down the empty and burning streets. They encountered no soldiers strangely enough, until a band of them suddenly appeared just outside the reaches of a building. His hand jutted out, grasping the girl and pushing her back against a wall.

"Stay here." Levat said as he walked forward.

His lips pursed, and a loud whistle escaped him just as the soldier stepped towards Tlalli. The man halted, half turning to see where the noise had come from.

 

[Hahnah]

Hahnah ran alongside Levat, her stride more like that of an elven courier than a feral monster. Her back straight and upright, curt and reserved pumps of her bent arms, efficient strides of her legs. Despite actually being in a hurry and being in danger, her stride had a casual look to it.

A thought crossed her mind as she fled with the pallid man: this was another reason why cities were dangerous. They were large and easy to find, and humans were incredibly aggressive. If they knew a city existed then it only a matter of time and capability before they would attack it. Her caretakers' small ranger refuge in Falwood was hard to find, as was a life of wandering the Falwood itself. This was preferable. It was better to be the one hunting the humans, not be the one whom the humans were hunting, as it was here.

These men attacking Strahlvel exuded sin, but it was not yet their time. Not for all of them. Hahnah would have to find them later. When they slept. When they were alone. When they thought themselves safe with their families or with their comrades around a small campfire. Here is when the Dying God would guide Hahnah's retribution to their profanity, and in that intersection Arethil would be delivered from evil.

Levat's hand jutted out, and she ran into it. Strands of her Living Armor across her chest quickly slithered around Levat's hand like a company of curious worms when he touched her, hundreds of them probing and feeling the vampire's flesh. They did not attempt to hold his hand in place nor deflect it. Just writhed and searched, as if trying to determine something.

Hahnah allowed herself to be pushed back against the wall.

"I will stay."

She watched him go. Watched him approach the soldier ahead and the fallen creature. Then Hahnah looked back the other way. That is likely what the pallid man meant, for her to watch his back as he fought with the soldier. Hahnah would try. She did not know how long she could hold. Armored humans were dangerous, and they traveled in groups here.

Hahnah faced back down the street from whence she and Levat came. Held both of her hands diagonally down to her sides and manifested twin Tendrils of Elemental Hatred, each one squirming to life from out of her palms like freakish sentient weapons. They grew to five feet long, and they writhed and undulated like the arms of an octopus.

And she held her ground and watched the rear as Levat went to the front.

Levat Tlalli

 

[Sei]

It wasn’t the first time she’d had to fight in pure darkness and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. The trick to fighting in pitch black, she remembered her old instructor saying, was to keep aware, to rely on skills and training, and to trust in the Goddess. With naught else to do, she did precisely that.

She knew approximately how high up she was and knew that all magic had limits. She had a vague idea of what was below and around, which meant the decision was quick and seamless. Her wings were her most valuable asset in such a fight and she knew that they were easily the biggest priority that she would target, so it made sense another would do the same, however heretical the mind, and so she did the only thing that made sense.

She dropped.

Her wings folded against her back, she let gravity do the work for her as the hiss of swinging blades sounded above her. As she neared where she felt was close to the ground, she flared her wings and glided to the side, her eyes scanning the sky as she flew until darkness turned to smoky, dim light. She kept one eye on the dome of black and the other seeking the tell-tale shimmer of the witch.

Alco

 

[Tlalli]

The jungle harpy looked up at the sharp whistle at the same moment the soldier paused in the downward sweep of his sword towards her outstretched neck. He turned, a look of confusion and irritation visible through the visor of his helmet in his mismatched eyes. In one sweep he took in the look of the vampire; at a glance he didn't look any different to a human and that angered Alexander Lefeur more than the abomination crumpled at his feet.

Alexander had joined the ranks of the army at a young age with the burning desire to see the change that had come to his city implemented across the world. Humans were the pinacol of godly perfection. Those who did not conform to the image should be erased from the very face of Arethil but those who had taken the human form and... twisted it like Vampirism or lycanthropy did was even worse. So when he was confronted with Levat, standing there as casually as if the pair had met on a street on market day, made his lip curl. He forgot the bird woman altogether and turned his back entirely to her.

Tlalli's vision swam as her lungs tried to replace the oxygen her lungs had been starved of in the crush. There was a roaring in her ears from the pulse in her heart and an iron taste in the back of her throat where her blood from a cut upon her cheek as trickled into her mouth. Much like Alexander, Tlalli at first thought the man was just another human. But unlike Alexander, Tlalli's sense of smell was far superior and the echo of death that hung about him marked him as different.

Vampire.

She hadn't ever encountered one before entering the city and the acidic smell of death always made her nose wrinkle a little, but other than that they had always seemed to be disinterested in her. In her eyes, it made them safe. Or at least an ally in this circumstance. Getting unsteadily to her talons, she took a deep shaky breath.

Alexander stood in a cocky manner; sword limp at his side, posture relaxed bordering on arrogant in his obvious boredom and disinterest.

"I think I'll take the time to pry your little fangs from your mouth, add 'em to my collection," the soldier spoke casually. "Perhaps even-" an odd expression cut across his face and for a moment he looked down at his chest in confusion before collapsing to his feet. Through his chest cavity protruded the talons of the creature a moment ago had nearly died by his blade. A grimace twisted his face and he died with the realisation written plain across his face.

 

[Levat]

Levat's expression didn't change as the soldier was ripped into from behind, his lips thinning for just a brief moment as he watched his hand shift.

The man went for a blade, a useless and stupid thing. Within two steps the Vampire moved forward and ripped his head from his body. He'd already been dead, the movement he had cast were naught but a death throe. The desperate and futile struggle of man.

Blood splattered onto the ground, the squelch of a corpse ringing out as Levat dragged the man off of Tlalli's claws. "Are you hurt?"

He asked the question, but he had no idea why he cared.

This city was filled with monsters, miscreants, wastrels. He had met some of them, and he had cared for none. So why would he care? Why would it make any sort of difference now if they all ended up dead within the pyres.

Perhaps it was some sort of morality left over from his time as a man, an echo of camaraderie.

Or Perhaps they would just make for convenient meals down the line.

 

[Hahnah]

There were no armored men coming. Not yet. Not from the direction Hahnah was facing. A couple of werewolves bounded across the street, but nothing more. She heard the armored man talking behind her, speaking about prying little fangs from a mouth. And then his words were cut off.

Hahnah glanced back over her shoulder. Saw the creature with better clarity now. The creature with the bright feathers and the wings--the fierceness in Hahnah's ready expression replaced with that awe and wonder again. She had seen so many people with wings after she had departed Falwood. They were so beautiful. Especially this pair, with the bright feathers. How did she get them? Could Hahnah get them? Like a butterfly?

Hahnah looked back down the street, forcing herself to pay attention. Stones from the trebuchets sailed overhead, crashing down into Strahlvel ahead of the advance of the men on foot in a creeping barrage. One of the fire urns from the trebuchets was hit by something and burst open in the air, spilling streams of fire out in a brilliant orange display in front of Hahnah. Dust from one of the stone impacts further away puffed weakly out from an alley, having been channeled down it and its initial roaring speed slowed to a crawl by distance.

And there. Back by the building Sarael had firebombed, a great mass of soldiers slew a trio of mountain trolls that put up a fight in the intersection. The soldiers branched off. Some going straight. Others right. And others left--in Hahnah and Levat and Tlalli's direction. They were small with distance now, out of range of her sorcery, but their march was closing that gap.

Hahnah started backing up toward Levat. She glanced over her shoulder again and said urgently, "There are armored men! They are coming this way!"

The sorcerous Tendrils borne from her palms curved and curled with an almost sentiment excitement, the white, black, and maroon energies which comprised them churning rapidly.

Levat Tlalli

 

[Tlalli]

Tiredness had etched itself into every tight line on the girls face but the colour had least began to return to her skin. At the man's question she cocked her head to the side in an unsettlingly inhuman manner, like a bird of prey eyeing up a rabbit below, before shaking it. Her feathered hair cascaded down her back and shook with the motion of her denial.

"Nothing more than bruises," her Common was clipped and obviously not her first language. It sounded too rehearsed and formal for it to be anything other than a second or perhaps even third tongue. Her wings stretched out to their full width for just a moment as if to confirm she had indeed not broken anything in the crushing, before snapping against her back with a tiny wince. "The crowd were in a panic and became a cru-"

Hahnah's sudden warning cut off her explanation from going any further. Dazzling turquoise eyes the colour of a spring pool caught in a ray of summer sunshine turned first to the curious girl with her odd magics, to the soldiers beyond. Uncomfortably she shifted from one bloody taloned foot to the clean one.

"Do you know a way out?" the skies were raining fire, it would be impossible for her to fly in this.