Dreadlords The Second Domino

[Erodin]

Vel Arnen

What a shitty, tiny, awful little slip of land.

An island distant to even the cortosi sea, Vel Arnen was the furthest 'fortress' city of Vel Anir. More of a naval outpost than any hub of trade or commerce, the city had come up as a necessity to the Guardsmen garrison than had been stationed there. Home to little more than a thousand people, it was fair to say that Vel Arnen was an easily forgotten piece of an ever sprawling Anirian empire.

Nevertheless, Erodin had never been so happy to see such a small piece of the Anirian homestead.

Not because it was particularly interesting, or even significant, but because of what he was here to do. "Conquer."

He told his fellow Dreadlords, crouching almost eagerly beneath the heavy canvas cloth. Their longboats slowly creeping forward through the ancient docks of Vel Arnen. A slight patter of rain echoed above their heads, striking in a resounding patter. The white haired Dreadlord smirked widely in the bare moonlight that cast through to them.

"We're here to conquer." Erodin reiterated. "Kill first, ask questions later. Gil wants the city, so we're taking it."

Simple as that. A first for them as a group, but hardly as individuals. Most of them had been Dreadlords for years. Taking a city was almost ordinary, though it would be a first with so many of them working together. Erodin supposed that was novel, in a way, though he doubted there would be many left to tell the story at the end. "Try not to destroy too much of the place in the process, big plans."

A few chuckles echoed out, and then Erodin added. "Oh, and be ready to kill the Pirates. They'll outlive their usefulness."

No one offered any argument as the longship crept against the docks.

 

[Zola]

Zola stepped back with a grimace as day old fish guts spewed over the dockside and very nearly over her freshly polished boots.

"See, I did be tellin' ye, ain't there be nothin' to see 'ere. Old Gul do be no troublemaker."

Old Gul was a short portly man who barely reached her chin, with a wide fat nose that looked as though it had had an argument with meaty fists one too many times, and a gap-toothed smile that supported the assumption. Despite the harmless grin and the fact he looked as though he would make a lot of noise stealing anything, his piggy eyes held a nervous glint to them as they flickered from her to the common soldiers poking through yet another barrel of rotting wares. He tried to subtly wipe the sweat from his brow.

"Of course not, but I'm sure a law abiding citizen such as yourself understands we can't be too careful with contraband. Not with an increase in pirates being spotted off shore."

Old Gul swallowed.

"Of course not, Ma-- I mean -- Dreadlord, yer, err, Dreadlordness. Pirate do be a scourge, they give every honest sailor a bad name, they do!"

 

[Amelita]

The smell of the sea was comforting, unlocking past memories of her brief childhood in Vel Luin. Roseline had gone back, once she had no longer serviced the Urahils, and the ocean-air had calmed her morning sickness. Even now, onboard of the longboat, waiting to slaughter people like animals, she felt comforted by the salt in the air and the brine that she could almost taste.

The stench of fish and wine mixing together ruined the freshness, but Roseline could ignore that.

Soon, blood would mix with the other scents. Which one would reign supreme? There was only one way to find out. As the seconds ticked by, Roseline could feel the mounting anticipation amongst those in the boat with her. She would be lying if she couldn’t admit to feeling some excitement over this.

Vel Arnen was small, but if Gilram wanted it, then it was important. Whatever he asked for, she would do. Especially if it meant Vel Anir would be flipped upside down until things could be right with him in charge. Although she really hoped that the first family to repent would be Urahil. She would love to take down Lyon and Felix herself. Amoux and the twins could be given to whoever else, but Lyon and Felix would be hers to—

“You’ll put ‘em to sleep, Rose?” Roseline looked over, smiling with a twinkle in her iridescent eyes. Like moonstone, they shimmered and glistened with a ethereal light, and soon enough, the runes etched onto her face began to shine with the same chatoyant gleam of her eyes.

“Of course,” she said, voice sweet like honey and soft like the morning sun. “They’ll have a wonderful dream, no matter what’s going on around them, they won’t want to wake up.”

Just like all the others, they would die with a smile on their face.

 

[Draven Helmer]

Draven had been stationed at this forsaken backwater for the past couple of months, he seemed to always get the shittest jobs the dreadlord had to offer, fortunately, it wasn't permanent, he would be rotated out in a few months so some other unfortunate dreadlord could get it.

He was standing atop the gatehouse that lead to the docks watching the fisherman and sailors as they went around their business, there was pleasantness to breathing sea air which Draven hadn't really had living on the land for most of his life. It was peaceful here compared to the cities on the mainland, you could almost forget that the vel anir existed here. but also meant that things were boring and uneventful and Draven was itching for something to happen.

 

[Erodin]

On the far docks, a Erodin slowly slipped out from beneath a heavy canvas cloth.

The night air almost immediately cast over his skin, raising goosebumps over his flesh as the soft patter of a drizzle began to fall from the sky. Lanterns hung from tall poles all along the pier, but the lights began to flicker and go out as Erodin reached up and pulled himself onto the dock.

"Ey?" One of the dockworkers called out in confusion as he noticed the lanterns light plunge a portion of the harbor into total darkness. "Tillen! Go relight them shits. Bloody wind always knockin' em out, storm must be coming."

Tillen, a boy who looked about eighteen, nodded and quickly broke off from the small stack of crates he had been hanging around. He grabbed flint and steel before rushing into the darkness, which was where Erodin caught him.

The Dreadlord's sword buried itself in boys stomach and severed his spine. "It's alright, lad. You weren't ever going to be much anyway."

A wicked grin spread on Erodin's face, and as he ripped his sword free a ghostly apparition of the boy seemed to be torn free with it. The spirits face was a mask of horror and absolute pain, existing for only a brief second before it collapsed and shriveled into the steel of Erodin's sword.

Just a heartbeat later though, his face appeared once more.

This time standing among a sea of faces. Hundreds of ghosts suddenly appeared upon the docks, some wearing armor, others none. Some holding swords while others clutches clubs. They came into being on the docks all around them, surging forward as the fall of Vel Arnen began.

 

[Zola]

"That they do Master Gull," Zola intoned then caught the glance from one of the soldiers currently searching the goods the merchant had unloaded from his ship. The portly man made as if to follow but two of Zola's most trusted men barred his path; the Republic might have forgotten Zola but the sailors and soldiers who made up the Navy hadn't. She allowed herself a small smile at the thought before turning her attentions to what the officer had found.

"It looks like unlicensed liquor, Ma'am," he pulled out a bottle from amongst the fish and then another. The Dreadlord sighed and took one of them, searching for any sign of a label.

"I thought the Empire had rid us of the Rum Runners," it was the one good thing their Vizler of the Moon had done, in her opinion.

"The ship is from the East, Ma'am," that sent her eyebrows arching. Not much came this far from the East. Maybe they were capitalising on the fall of the trade in the West. Which would mean it would soon be an Anirian problem. She stifled a sigh.

"Throw him in the gaol and confiscate all of this."

"Yes Ma'am!" With a crisp salute he set to work and Zola turned to leave; there was no need to waste her breath on the man himself. She didn't get very far along the docks, heading back towards the heart of the town, when the shrill sound of the warning bell began to peel out from the far docks.

 

[Amelita]

Erodin made the first move. The rest of the exiled dreadlords hiding underneath the canvas tarps stood up from their spots. Roseline watched as the tarp over the boat she was in fell into the salty waters below. With ease, she got off from the boat, standing on the docks. She could the shouting begin, the rattling of a bell here and then another there.

“Breathe in,” Roseline murmured, taking a deep breath and holding it in for a moment before she released it. The runes on her skin turned a luminous white, ethereal and shimmering like iridescent stones. She raised her hands above her head in a languid stretch, and then a moment later she was running into Vel Arnen.

With Erodin’s display of might, Roseline figured her grand illusions wouldn’t be needed. Which meant she could focus on her goal in putting as many people, especially children, as possible to sleep. Screams could be heard as the others began annihilating the dock workers or any poor soul who thought they could help.

It’s futile, Rose thought, coming up to a younger-looking dock worker. They made eye-contact and the young man fell back as if he had been knocked unconscious. Roseline pulled out her dagger, and without even looking, slit the man’s throat. Even though his body must have felt the pain of bleeding out, the serene look and content smile didn’t leave the man’s face.

“What a lovely dream you’re having,” Roseline whispered, smiling herself. “You and your family will be with your father soon enough. I promise it.” She turned her head, catching a cowering man staring at her in horror. They made eye contact and just like the previous man, was put asleep. Roseline didn’t get the chance to kill him, Agnes piercing through his heart with her sword.

“Just focus on getting them asleep! I got your back.” Roseline nodded, still smiling, and rushed ahead. Murmuring and gesturing with her hands, seven translucent rings of magic covered Roseline from head to toe. Rotating around her figure, throughout each ring were dozens of eyes embedded into them like precious stones. Even looking into one of these eyes would put anyone to sleep, although it wouldn’t be as instant as if they had appeared into her actual eyes.

 

[Draven Helmer]

Draven felt an impact on his head, looking up he held out his hand and felt a few more drops impact his hand and head rubbing the drops into his hands as he pulled his hood other his head and his cloak around him, as his eyes lay to rest on the docks again he spotted the army of ghostly apparitions against the reflection of the moonlight on the sea. "Alarm! we are under attack from the docks!" he shouted up to the flanking gate towers, the soldier quickly looked down at Draven and to the direction he was pointing, soldier's eyes widened at seeing the army of the dead as he ran to the bell and began to ring it as the other began to close and bar the gate.

Stepping onto the crenellations, Draven tetter onto the edge before setting off and glided down to the ground thanks to the chainmail shirt he was wearing, as the first surging wraiths charged towards him, from under his cloak sheets of steel similar in size to playing cards, 10 of them appeared floated above him, with a flick of his wrist 5 of them were sent flying towards approaching ghosts slicing through them like a hot knife through butter before returning to. Draven was going to have his work cut out for him with this many targets, someone had to be controlling because wraiths don't appear out of nowhere for no damn reason. drawing his sword he charged forward destroying any wraiths that crossed his in his search for the necromancer.

 

[Erodin]

Bodies began to tumble.

Some to Roseline's slumber, but must cut through by wraiths and magics. Rogue Dreadlord's spilled from their long boats, cutting down any man or woman wearing a Guardsmen uniforms. Erodin's ghosts swept forward, rushing through walls and never stopping for a beat.

Most died with a single swipe of the sword, their souls letting out a final scream as a blade cut through their bodies or an arrow pierced their breast.

Yet others fought like warriors. Parrying, dodging, moving like men trained in lifetimes of wars. It was those wraiths that lead the charge, ghostly apparitions that fought as well as any Anirian Knight. Behind them swept Erodin, a gleeful smile on his face, blood dripping from his sword as he stepped behind the tsunami of bound souls. "Roseline!"

He called out to his companion, finger pointing in the direction of Draven.

 

[Zola]

The docks were in chaos.

Civilians fled the heat of the battle whilst soldiers struggled to wade through them like they would a strong current. Zola cursed as she saw a woman go down and helped her to her feet before she was trampled by her friends and those trying to protect her. They needed some sort of order here.

"YOU!" She shouted across the screams and sound of metal on metal. A group of soldiers stopped at the command, looking stunned at themselves for doing so, and even more so for snapping off a salute before checking who she was. Zola didn't have time for them to be embarrassed. "Get the citizens diverted up through the Ovens, take them to the fort and you hold there for more orders. Do you understand?"

"Yes Captain!" they snapped off another salute, looking confused, but hurried to do what she said and took the woman she had just helped with them. Zola grimaced. She hated using her magic on the men but she didn't need an argument about who was in command here. Whoever it was was doing a fucking poor job. She gave a few more orders to groups of men looking lost and she soon had a team set up to funnel civilians up through the town and draw their attackers another way along the dock to what appeared to be the centre of the town. Others had gone ahead to clear any who loitered there.

A ship had to be in order to be ready to fight.

 

[Amelita]

She heard Erodin shouting her name, and when she followed his finger, she saw someone who had some sense of self-preservation going to fight the wraiths that Erodin had brought forward. What was more impressive than his swordsmanship, which Rosaline didn’t find very impressive to begin with, was the ten pieces of metal that seemed to glint around them.

A dreadlord, surely, someone who could give her more of a fight than those looking upon her and falling asleep for Agnes to finish off. With one hand, Roseline told Agnes that she would be going after Draven. Moving swiftly towards Draven, when she was close enough, she threw her dagger towards him. She wasn’t trying to kill him with her throw, instead wanting to capture his attention.

Hopefully, depending on how protected he was from illusion magic, when he looked at her, he’d fall asleep like the others. If he didn’t, Roseline sheathed her sword just in case.

Draven Helmer

 

[Draven Helmer]

Draven had fought his way to Erodain, even the most challenging of wraiths wouldn't offer the greatest of fights for the young dreadlord thanks to the use of his magic, never fighting as fair, aiming to end each foe quickly and efficiently as possible, finally he spotted the one he was looking for, the white hair reflecting the moonlight as he raised his and called out a name, it was with this sight he pieced everything together, the wraiths and the looks matched, the 'one man army' himself was here, he heard the stories about the dread lord and that he had gone rogue with Gilrim.

"I see Gilram's little band has finally to do something over than hide in the Fal woods like the elves" Draven taunted the man, venom in his words as stood still some dozen meters away, his metal cards killing any wraith that tried to approach him whilst he talked to Erodin.

Draven's guard was up at the name call, he didn't know who this Roseline was but they were likely another rogue dreadlord and one he didn't know the magic of, he was sensing for metal enough to make up a sword or daggers, "There you are," he whispered to himself, he didn't move or even flinch or look when Roseline threw her dagger towards him, It would have hit him in his torso if hadn't stopped mid-air and was pulled to his free hand.

"Tell me Erodin do you how to fight or have you gotten so used to sending others to do your dirty work?" another taunt, he was outnumbered and up against a foe who he had no idea what they could do if he could get Erodin of kilter or better yet to face him one on one he could survive possibly even win.

 

[Erodin]

Cutting down another one of the Guardsmen on the docks, Erodin's attention was caught by the sole Dreadlord who had made it down to the forefront of the attack. More were doubtless on their way, but for now it seemed only one gnat stood against them.

With slow, methodical steps the Rogue Dreadlord came up behind Roseline, his expression one of smug satisfaction. "Sorry?"

He said politely.

"Do I know you?" Casual indifference scoured in his voice as he stopped in his steps. All around them his wraiths slowly took hold of the docks, other Rogue Dreadlords protected within their ranks as various flurries of magic burst out from one place or another.

It wouldn't be long before the cove was taken, and the outskirts of the small city fell. Which would leave only the fortress.

The hand and a half sword in his hand shifted, shedding the same ghostly light that seemed to draw around the rest of Erodin's form. "No, I don't think so."

He said dismissively.

"I think we can just kill him." Erodin said, rolling his head towards Roseline with a glance.

 

[Zola]

The rogue Dreadlord before her dropped to the floor writhing in pain with her hands clamped over her bleeding ears. Zola looked down at her in disdain. She had known her or, at least, known of her. There were not many Dreadlords after all and those who were similar in age often ran in the same circles for missions when they were younger. Joanna. That was her name. Zola pressed the heel of her boot into the woman's throat. She'd been a good Dreadlord, had fought on missions by her side. She'd joined House Bannick. Had fought on the side of the Revolution, or so Zola thought. Now there was some new revolution? To bring about the rise of the Dreadlords and put them firmly at the wheel?

Zola's lips curled in disgust as she pressed her boot down. The woman wheezed.

She might not have believed her crew about the first revolution but Zola had accepted the new world order when told. She would have fought on their side if only she had been told. But she would fight now, fight for them and this new world order. That was her duty.

The woman's eyes glazed over and Zola stepped over her and on towards the docks.

 

[Amelita]

“Someone’s popular.” Was Roseline’s only reply, her eyes following after her dagger and how it seemed to eagerly go to the dreadlord’s hand. There were a few possibilities, telekinesis being a big one. However, if the dreadlord was using telekinesis, wouldn’t something bigger be hurdling towards them by now? No, it seemed to the seasoned dreadlord that this young one was using something else, something similar to telekinesis but not quite.

He had limits. Good. The bad thing was that it seemed like he was smart enough to not look directly at Roseline and her eyes that could cause anyone to sleep. Erodin had the perfect sense to look over at her just right, something that all their comrades had learned to do: there were blind spots, even when Roseline was projecting as many eyes as she was now. All the dreadlords under Gilram had learned of these blind spots.

The boy parading as a dreadlord shouldn’t know of them unless it was his intuition or he was just incredibly clever. There were plenty of ways to trick him though.

The rings covered in eyes disappeared in a flash of golden light, filtering off to nothing but sparkles that quickly turned into dust. Roseline made a show of moving her hands and arms, and every time she pointed, a creature would appear. Erodin had his wraiths and they could actually do damage.

These illusions, while looking far more fearsome than Erodin’s wraiths, were just that: illusions. They had no shadow, wouldn’t show up in reflections, but hopefully all the fire and disarray would hide this fact. It had worked hundreds of times before without any hiccups.

The runes on her face were glowing as trolls and ogres and basilisks appeared, sound accompanying them as Roseline concentrated in creating her illusions to be as realistic as possible. Monsters like kraits and moriteres and wargheits appeared where they seemed to fit, howling and screeching into the night.

Roseline stood back, and the illusions began moving forward, towards Draven. Roseline was straining, as one was prone to doing when they had casted nearly a hundred illusions of various creatures and monsters, complete with sound and movement. She only needed to frighten the dreadlord and make it so he looked her in the eye. Then she could put him to sleep.

Draven Helmer Erodin Zola

 

[Erodin]

Erodin's eyes flashed.

The light burned through them for just a split second, the ghostly shroud surrounding him suddenly seeming to shift for one brief moment.

Figures appeared all among the crowd of monsters Rosaline had summoned forth. Interspersed within the creatures of illusions came flickering memories of their ghostly forms. A wraith like troll, a strange basilisk of coiling black. Creatures that stood in memory of what they had once been in life. Monstrous forms holding more firmly to the world around them. All of them stood, mixed with the illusioned shadows crafted by Rosaline.

A second passed, then they launched themselves forth. Following just as Rosaline's nightmares lashed out. An overlapping and colliding wave that Draven would find not so easily dispersed.

Erodin laughed at the surge of monsters, his head lulling as he turned on his heel.

Other places on the docks began to slowly collapse. Even well trained Guardsmen could do little against the overwhelming number of Wraiths mixed with assaulting Dreadlords. Sweep of flames cut through buildings, bursts of wind tore down stalls and ripped paths of blood within the cobbles.

Moving like a conductor through the Carnage, the Rogue Dreadlord cut through the dock-gates and headed towards the fortress.

 

[Amelita]

It worked, as was to be expected. He looked at her, and like all the others, he fell asleep. The issue was, he also fell. Roseline didn’t have the time to find him. Erodin was on the move and she had to keep up with the illusion. Working in tandem together proved well however, especially when someone had decided to pick up their bow.

Arrows were flying through the air, but Roseline couldn’t help but smirk as they continued to shoot at the bigger creatures, which just so happened to be her illusions. She wondered when the person using the bow and arrow would figure it out, and continued to walk forward, putting as many to sleep.

A arrow arced over and found it’s way to the ground before her feet. She frowned but darted to the side, finding cover.

Well, they had figured it out faster than expected. No matter. She shouted a warning to those who could hear, but that archer was going to be hers. Conserving energy, she reduced the amount of illusions as well her auditory illusions. Erodin’s wraiths would be enough now as fire grew all around them.

Zola Erodin

 

[Zola]

"Steady," Zola told her archers, straining through the noise to pin point where footfalls came from. The wraiths made no noise and there was a hollowness to the illusions that made her skin crawl in a way she couldn't explain. Real sound had soul. "Adjust a little to the south-east, nautical degrees 10," the archers shifted and when they were pointing the right way she let her hand drop and the arrows shot through the air. Sure enough there were several shouts and curses.

Cowards.

Hiding behind illusions was the act of someone no longer worthy of the title Dreadlord. But it wasn't the illusionist she was worried about; it was the master of the wraiths. Some magics were far more common than others but the ghostly talents were few and far between. She had heard of a young Dreadlord who had been the figurehead of this revolution who was said to be able to become one himself, but the Dreadlord Zola had heard of was Erodin. Unlike Talus, Erodins name inspired nothing but terror. If it was he who walked this battlefield they would need reinforcements and soon.

"Run to the Fortress, tell them to send a bird," she instructed one of a few plucky boys who had decided they wanted to stay and fight for their home. "But keep to the back ways, go under if you can" the boy nodded grimly and then he was off into the shadows. "The rest of you draw back to the next spot, when it looks like the ship is about to sink, get off of here anyway you can."

"Lady, you can't surely be-"

"That's an order," the power in her tone made the man's jaw snap shut. She shot him an apologetic look and then stepped from behind the barricade.

"Is your little beastie with you, Erodin?" his wife was never normally too far away and hers was a magic just as deadly. "Or have you picked up a mistress? This little illusionist I can hear?"

 

[Erodin]

"Oh." Erodin said, shooting Rosaline a look of mock surprise. "Someone with a modicum of authority."

Meaning someone that he recognized, and someone that he actually wanted to speak with.

He hadn't known Draven, didn't know Zola either, but at least he recognized her. The two were close enough in age that there has been some overlap in their time at the Academy. Truth be told the rogue Dreadlords couldn't have said if they'd ever been on a mission together, though it didn't really matter.

There weren't many Dreadlords on this island, that was a fact, and Draven had been too young to be in charge. Zola might not have been, but she was a Dreadlord of some experience. Even if she didn't have charge of this shitty little island, she would know whoever did. Her word with them might be enough to bring this to a quick end.

Erodin motioned quickly to Rosaline, stepping up and across the cobbles.

That odd blue wisp of smoke still followed him as he moved, trailing slowly. While he approached the Rampart, the wraiths all around them seemed to freeze. Some stilled with their blades buried within the chests of Guardsmen. Others came to a stop mid pursuit, allowing the flight of their terrified foe. All of them halted, whether mid-swing of their sword or having been at a sprint just seconds before. An eerie stillness dropped over the battlefield as the wraiths froze, the Guardsmen fighting then seeming to stall for half a heartbeat. As if terrified that striking the ghosts now would somehow cut the momentary reprieve short.

"First of all." Erodin began as he stalked towards Zola. "Mock my wife and the love I bear for her again."

The Rogue Dreadlord dared. "And I'll spend whatever time I have on this miserable shitstreak of an island cutting out your vocal cords, impaling you on the beach, and listening to your whimpered miserable little croaks of agonized pain as you starve to death."

He looked up at his fellow Dreadlord, smiled, and then immediately changed tact.

"Second!" Erodin declared, letting his eyes sweep over the remaining Guardsmen. "How about you save yourself all that and surrender? All your men will be spared and treated with dignity, you'll be free to leave after a little chat, yada yada."

He twirled his hand, not selling the surrender particularly hard.

 

[Amelita]

“How lovely.” Roseline said after hearing Zola speak. Her voice carried easily, as it always seemed to back in the Academy. Even while she was hiding the voice was crystal clear. It helped that the blonde helped to confirm her identity. “I know her.” The redhead told Erodin, a smile on her face as she watched the man stride forward with little care.

Zola had been a year older than Roseline. She had been pulled into graduation before her. They had thankfully never been opposing sides. Roseline understood if they had, especially while so young and fresh to the world, the redhead surely would have meant her end. Her illusions had been entirely visual at that point.

And Zola always had remarkable hearing. She could have fought with her eyes closed and still came out on top. Roseline didn’t wonder if that was still the case as she stepped out from where she had seemed cover.

The easy-going smile was still on her face as looked to where Zola stood. She clapped her hands together.

“Oh, come join us. It’ll be like old times!” Roseline agreed, but already, she was starting to put Zola’s men to sleep.

Zola Erodin

 

[Zola]

Zola's response to Erodin's threat was to bare her teeth in a feral smile. She was not one of these new generation Dreadlords to be cowed with an idol threat. Erodin's magic was deadly, yes, but so was hers. This would be no easy fight for either should it come to that. Which, by his terms, seemed likely. Absentmindedly she switched her blade from one hand to the other where she rolled it over her wrist with as much ease as she would have her dominant hand.

"We both know your terms are a bunch of horseshit," Zola snapped back and then her eyes cut to Rosaline and the direction of her gaze. It wasn't hard to work out what was happening as a single look made one guard topple sideways.

"You have an order, men," her voice shifted with her magic and men who had been slumping suddenly snapped to attention, their gaze turning from Roseline to their impromptu commander. Almost hurriedly they began to fall back and Zola drew a line with her blade in the dirt between them. She would buy them as much time as she could here.

"Here are my terms. You two slink back into whatever barnacle crusted hole you crawled out of, and I won't send you back to your Master in a box, do we have an accord?"

 

[Erodin]

Erodin smiled ever so slightly, letting his gaze flickered towards Rosaline for a brief moment. "This is why they leave recruitment to Duncan."

The words fell from his lips as Chaos unfolded.

It happened in an instant, without shout or words of command. Every wraith that had been stopped and frozen suddenly moved. Blades that has ceased rent through flesh, ghostly hands that had stopped came crashing down, pursuits that had been held off suddenly jump started.

An assault that had been frozen thawed within an instant. The sounds of terror once again filling the air as Guardsmen, civilians, and whatever else stood living upon the island once again found themselves victims of the ghostly torrent.

Between Zola and the two Rogue Dreadlords something seemed to shift.

The air itself shimmered, that ghostly fog drawing from nothing, slowly becoming more whole. Wicked lines of spectral smoke drew dark scales and long claws, huge horns curving high into the air as a massive draconic wraith pulled itself from the ether. A low growl sounding from it’s throat, the noise like cracking bones.

It’s head snapped back, chest swelling with a long phantom breath, and then it reeled forward. With an open maw the dragon spewed shadowed flames, spilling forth from the depths of it’s jaws like a tidal wave.

Crashing over the cobbles and surging towards Zola and the retreating soldiers.

 

[Amelita]

“It must be because of your scary face,” Roseline said sweetly enough. “Or she has no sense of self-preservation.” She shook her head. “She woke them up so now all her men had to die painfully.” The redhead complained to Erodin. “They could’ve had a nice dream. Everyone deserves a nice dream when they die.” She was hardly upset by it.

She tried. Zola ruined it. No fault on her.

It was then that Roseline got the wonderful idea of how well she could combine her illusionary magic with Zola’s. It would be delightful, she wouldn’t have to worry about wasting her arcane ability on things revolving around sound, Zola could do that— and most likely without much thinking on her end. It would be delightful, they could go around, terrorizing these little villages before the dreadlords that like to be more… hands-on could finish the job.

They would become the best of friends! A unstoppable duo! A decent replacement for Theo at the very least.

“I have a delightful idea.” Roseline said, ever-smiling and then dashing forward. Her reflective armor glimmering with light and shadow from the fire all around them. Her armored feet easily moved over the battlefield the town was turning into, not snagging on the debris or the bodies scattering the floor.

She was going after Zola while still having the sense to keep out of the wraith-dragon’s way and shadow fire.

Zola Erodin

 

[Zola]

Zola took a deep breath in and raised her sword, her eyes focused on the dragon rushing towards her, but no sound came out as she opened her mouth. At least, not to the human ear.

The wraiths who had returned to rampaging through the streets suddenly faltered. Some writhed as if in pain, others screamed in anger, and some still seemed to flicker in and out of existence entirely as though the noise she made made it hard for them to form fully. The further away from Zola they were the weaker her noise but it was enough. Enough to even the field between those defending the city and the creatures butchering them. Zola had to hope her men found enough courage in that to launch their own stand; she was dealing was one of her own.

Another sudden breath and this time the noise was one everyone could hear. It made the air in front of her shimmer just before the flames washed over and around her. A few stray errant hands burnt away, the ends of her stock that flapped in the wind singed, but Zola stayed strong in the face of certain death.

 

[Erodin]

"How dare you." Erodin said in mock grievance. "This face won the heart of the Princess of Savren."

He commented idly. "Though Amelie carved her heart out…"

That event had caused no small amount of political turmoil, though House Virak had protected them both.

Several of his weaker wraiths burst apart unceremoniously, others writhed in pain, and still others seemed to fly into a rage. He watched the tumult with a keen interest, noting the dragons scales seem to bristle and shift as Zola's magic emanated from her.

Lips pressed together in a thin line, a pulse seeming to run over the ghostly wisps that rose from his form. Erodin didn't offer a taunt this time, simply adjusting his grip and moving to take a step forward when Rosaline moved first. A bright smile touched her lips, and the other Rogue went darting into the fray.

He grimaced for a brief second, but remembered what Amelie had said about trying to work better with others.

"Ugh." He muttered to himself, gaze flickering left and right. His ghosts were still teeming, though far more agitated now than before. Some were still being torn at by Zola's magic, the edges of their forms seeming smokey and disconnected, their blades not quite landing right. "I haven't lost this many in yea-"

Before he could finish a shout went up to the left of him, a warrior breaking from between the houses and charging like a mad dog.

Erodin barely had time to flip up his blade, catching the guardsman's ax at the very last second. Sparks flew, and before the Dreadlord had time to respond the ax came again and again, swiping and hacking as often and as hard as he could. "Kress! You've got a little soul don't you?"

The Dreadlord said, wildly grinning as he suddenly shifted. The ghostly wisp bursting around him as his magic sword. His blade shifted, flickering forward once and batting the man's ax away just long enough to reach out and grasp the man's throat.

"I'll need the replenishment." He said with a wicked grin, the brave Guardsmen letting out a wild scream as Erodin began to tear out his essence.