Pandemonium Those Beyond

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Not even a few steps in and the hard dirt gave way to clinging mud. A snap second sensation of falling, as Trajan descended down to his ankles in it, as did the line of mercenaries at his back. Worse, the defiled soil birthed a host of writhing worms. A growl of righteous anger at the unholy sight of them. These were no hapless creatures of Arethil, caught in the advance of the mists. No, not with the ravages of death visited upon the farmland by the abhorrent cloud.

Pick them up.

A whisper, clearer than the others. Ha! A confirmation of his belief. Xenos and their trickery. How they cowered and slithered in the shadows before the brilliant bastion of a humanity united. Their deceitful eyes, burning green with envy, as they came to the realization that they could never stand before such glory. Unbreakable faith produced unshakable resolve. And Trajan knew well his holy purpose here.

But pride must be tempered with humility, lest it become a fatal hubris. To underestimate one's foe was to invite death. And to underestimate the xeno...ruin beyond the scope of a single man's life.

Trajan glanced back over his shoulder. Rainie, Dio, and several of the mercenaries were reaching down to grab the worms. And while it heartened Trajan to see that Rainie had the strength of will to resist the temptation, the hands of the others kept advancing. Going lower. Fingers reaching.

"Don't touch them!" Trajan bellowed. The sheer loudness of his voice snapping the mercenaries out of their trance and causing Dio to flinch. Kilo flapped his wings and steadied himself on his shoulder. "Keep your hands on your swords and your shields! And stay vigil--"

A scream. One of the mercenaries.

Trajan snapped his gaze toward it. And saw a creature, a disgusting monstrosity, dragging the poor man from the group. But before Trajan could even lift a boot from the muck of the defiled earth, Mitsy exploded into action with a fervor that made him grip his warhammer tight with pride. Such a selfless act, a vigorous and noble defense of a fallen comrade, as she handily banished the foul creature. An exemplar of virtue, for all who witnessed her.

The fallen mercenary gasped a few times, eyes wide with shock and amazement, and said to Mitsy, "Gods, I think I could marry you!" And he scrambled back to his feet, almost dropping his sword in the muck, and hurried back to the main formation.

As the fallen mercenary rejoined them, Trajan at last noticed the creatures. More of them. Lurking in the mists. Watching and waiting. All around. Though they seemed beastly things lacking in higher thought, Trajan couldn't rule out the near certain possibility of a xeno directing them. After all, the source of the mists was yet to be found.

Now, their line formation had become ineffective, facing a foe such as this.

"Form a defensive circle!" Trajan said. "On me!"

In times like these, men yearned for direction. They craved it. A breaking of morale by poor leadership was deadlier than any weapon wielded by the enemy. And so the mercenaries flocked to his stern order like moths to a flame, for it was the solid rock upon which they could rely. The men moved forward, kicking up muck and dirt and worms, and gathered around Trajan, forming the defensive circle as he commanded, shields up and weapons pointed out. They parted briefly to allow Dio inside the circle, as they would for any others of the party.

Trajan tapped two of the mercenaries on the shoulder, and then he, too, joined the circle. He had no shield, but he had his warhammer, and his protective magic. And, most importantly, it just wouldn't do for him ask the mercenaries to be on the front lines while he hid within the safety they provided. No. Not as the man who commanded them. They needed to see that he would give no order that he himself would not follow. No task that he himself would not do.

And Rainie and Kalliana called out. To...someone? Where?

There. Another party. Of four. As Kilo had said.

A trap. Feeding you lies.

More whispers, rising among the incomprehensible tide of them. And more deceit and trickery. These demons, these whispers...manifestations of Trajan's very thoughts! Cowering and slithering indeed. They did not dare approach the combined force of humanity assembled here. They did not dare rally for a toe-to-toe battle. They could only muster cowardice and deceptions. He should have expected as much.

There was no trap. And that group of men and women were telling no lies. Xeno deceptions were potent against those ill-prepared for them, yes, but they unravelled quickly under the piercing gaze of those enlightened. Why, a man and a woman from the group even gave them sound advice. Advice Trajan had already put into action against the spineless demons which skittered under the veil of the mists.

"Stay vigilant!" Trajan called to them. "We're coming to get you! Hold tight!"

The next order was on his tongue. Ready to be spoken.

When he heard Kalliana. A glance, back and over the heads of the mercenaries. A crack of worry breaking the stone of his expression. Was that true? That the mist was eating magic? Was magic empowering it? Such a revelation would render his skills in protection useless. His very weapon a liability, even. Would the stored energy of the sun's light be drained from the head of his warhammer? Even if he refrained from using its magic? He could only hope not.

Then, to Faurosk, he said, "Is it true? What Kalliana has said?" But, as it was, they had little time to lay about and ponder. "Come. Think and move. Let's go."

And, to the mercenaries, he said, "Those who served, remember your marching drills? One, two, left, right, for those who haven't, and for those who don't. Now. Move as one. Ready!"

Trajan called the cadence, and the unit of mercenaries advanced toward the group of four further in the mists, roughly maintaining their defensive circle. Their frightened but determined eyes darting over the tops of their shields. Watching the demons move in the mist.

Elbion_pandemonium
 
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ELBION

Entering the mist Valkery felt it press down around her senses. Her riding boots sunk into the mud at her feet and she looked down. Masses of worms crawling up out of the mire corrupted and black.

Pick them up.

She heard the voice in her head, so contrary to anything she would ever think, and snapped to attention. She would never touch anything like that without gloves on, or without tweezers. She did have some in the pouch at her hip but that was beside the point. The point was that the thing in the mist was clever, and could affect the mind. She looked around as several others succumbed to the urge snapping out of it just in time as one of the mercenaries let out a scream as he was dragged into the mist by something. The other white-haired woman leaped into action before Valkery could do anything.

This entire time Valkery didn't seem to move or do anything, her expression calm. But she wasn't indifferent, she was calculating. Someone else pointed out that the mist seemed to eat magic. Valkery nodded to herself. She had felt the same thing, it all seemed to be sucked into the center. That was where they needed to go. But first, they needed to asses their current situation of being surrounded and the other group of potential allies. They did not feel like the mist monsters. There was a fleeting thought of it being a trap. Valkery faltered for a second unsure if it was her own thought or another but the confusion quickly faded when she recognized the aura of one of the robed figures. It was that Kara girl she had met when she first arrived in Elbion.

Trajan orders a circular formation. He might be a Xeno hater but he was a good leader and his confidence and order was what the group needed to survive. Valkery moved into the center of the circle. She had few defensive capabilities and her magic, if she could get it to work in the mist, could be used just fine from within the circle.

She needed to test her magic to see what effect the mist had on it before she needed to rely on it in combat. She glanced back down at the worms at her feet, this time her curiosity not coming from the urges of the mist but from her self. If the mist wanted them to pick up the worms they must have a reason. Perhaps it was some sort of parasite. Before they started moving she quickly reaching into the bag that hung at her hip and pulled on a pair of fitted water proffered leather gloves. She quickly bent over and picked up one of the worms with a pair of tweezers and dropped it in a small vile before quickly capping it with a cork. standing up she held the vile up to her face and looked through the glass at the worm while with the other hand she kneaded a piece of wax with her fingers. She used aura to warm the wax and immediately noticed that it took twice as much aura to bring it to the desired softness. Not an issue with such a small thing but this worried her with larger magical effects. she would have to be extra careful with her aura reserves. The one good, thing it seemed, was that aura was not magic in and of itself and when in that form the mist did not seem interested in it, it was only when she converted the aura into magical energy to perform an effect did the mist absorb her efforts. She nodded to herself at the observation.

Trajan gave the order to march. Valkery easily kept time with the pace he was setting as she continued to work. She took the softened wax and molded it over the cork completely sealing off the vile.
 
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Alliria_pandemonium

"The path can begin here," he said. A flicker of annoyance crossed his features at the noise of the battle they left behind.

They came to a halt and she was slowly lowered to the ground. Rather than a comfortable bed of grass, she would sink into the churned up soil. Something moved beneath her weight. A sharp pain began at the base of her spine before reducing to a pleasant tingle.

"The catalyst of change," he said ever so softly. "You change so slowly. You could never truly ascend without it.

"Close your eyes. Focus on your sense of self. Think of who you are. What is your core? Imagine what that is taking flight and escaping your mortal trappings.

"Ascend!"
 
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Raigryn Vayd

She closed her eyes as she sank into the earths cold embrace.
She felt something move under her as her muscle memory and base instincts took over ,and her right hand pulled the Bowie knife from its sheath raising it to stab at whatever was under her as she felt a sharp pain in her spine.
Her body clenched before relaxing into the pleasant tingle as her knife slipped out of her hand sinking blade first into the churned soil next to her. Her brain wandered to her younger days..

So much had changed since she was just a sniveling wretch destined for slavery on a pirate's deck....But one thing hadn't..Her will to survive and her thirst for the power to make it possible. Always training, always fighting for the next day always evolving.
She then found something else..
Something she forgot was always burning under her shy demeanor.
Rage.
It festered inside her stomach like a slowly burning furnace. She felt the tickle in her brain seem to prod at it. She hated everyone.

All the time.
They had friends, families, lives, purpose. All she had was her bones and gold. She felt the will invading her mind latch to this. It wasnt right..They had everything...
The earth seemed to envelope her as the darkness pressed in. It wasnt right....
IT WASN'T FAIR!... She held on to her rage and sheer will to survive and adapt as she gave her self to the growing tingle and darkness.
 
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The creature's momentum played true. Not even it could defy the laws of nature as he impaled onto the lance Rohiron brought up between them.

It let out a viscous screech of pain, brownish red liquid erupting from his chest and mouth. It fell heavily, colliding into their legs. It's body laid there twitching. Razor sharp antenna reached out weakly... striving for their skin with life that had already fled the creatures body.



Where the fleeing boy had fallen, half covered by dirt and leaves, laid a piece of crumpled parchment speckled in blood.

Falwood_pandemonium
 
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Eretejva_pandemonium

Sannoru would have been otherwise content to just watch or find a place to retreat, considering the battle was not their own. Apparently not, Sigrith why.
The monstrous bear. perhaps svalen (As far; nordenfiir knew better what a nordenfiir was. Whiff out whatever humanity is in a monster, sannoru still hasn't gotten used to that.) bleeding worm-things reared up and smashed the short weaponry aside as it came. Some hits were landed across it's mighty paws, the squirming, wriggling worms formations splattering away from the body. Some remained on the weapons.
What does it do? Does it burn does it sting does it even do anything? The words of the witch made the warriors falter a little, they were more knowledgeble by the things out of nature.

Sannoru ran into the bear as the scarce semi circle faltered, and diverted attention to himself with some noisy barking and growling, leading it slightly away with a few well timed dodges and sprints. The men took the moment to pick up the more suited boar spears with with which to prod the hellish thing.
 
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Spine_pandemonium


Maybe this newcomer is the mist phantom,
Is she the mist phantom?
"Are you a mist phantom?"
Am I the mist phantom?

Oh...- and the shrieks the unseen beasts let out.

»That is Mahhor's grup!« Cried out Sheesa, quickly turning her mount towards the sound. The others in her command followed suit.

The sight of the child was very unexpected, and now Mabess partially blamed the ill thoughts on it, what is a human girl doing in the reaches of a mountain? In Ashlander territory where a Blackhawk or Silverstone would've killed her on a sight. But there was no time to discuss things either, least their brethren fell to an unknown horror.

»REGROUP «
the chieftainess roared, swinging up the human girl on the back of her barghest; but only if she would let her, otherwise Mabess would continue forwars without a second glance back.

Some things were simply urgent.
 
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Alliria_pandemonium

Chad had broken loose.

There was no other way for it. A macabre horror show that seemed to burst into being within the mists. One moment they were standing on edge, and the next...the next they found themselves plunging over a cliff.

A scream echoed behind her, one of the other Ranger's being torn from his feet by a twisted creature of bone and flesh. Horror dawned on Lia's face as she turned and swiped her blade, cutting off a tendril from the creatures back to free her companion. She knelt down and grabbed the man, dragging his broken body towards her.

"FORM TOGETHER!" She called to the others, yelling at the peak of her voice.

The mist was oppressive, constantly pushing, pressing.

The Giant was already pressing forward, smashing through the enemy and making quick work of the smaller creatures in a way. Had she a moment to breath Lia would have called it impressive, but in that moment she was simply trying her best to survive.

With a wrench, she pulled the Injured Ranger to his feet, pushing him to follow after the giant's swath of carnage.
 
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The Giant really did wade in, he had cinched his meteor hammer down some what, and was swinging it over his head in an easy rhythm in front of him. Each downward swing connecting with a near by creature. These eldritch abominations were almost fun to flatten with his hammer, more scrambled to him, and leapt up to clamber up his legs, as they did, he punted them back. He was stomping towards the bigger demons in the mist.

As he wafted through the small fry, he noticed that some of the haze had lifted ever so slightly. "I wonder how powerful their blood is?" Jair wondered out loud, as a demon about the size of large man went cartwheeling between a pair of tall trees. The kick is gooooooddddd!!! Actually it was a hit from his anchor but the sentiment was the same. There was a big one, a really big one, almost as large as he was near the back. The giant wanted that one, he started lassoing the anchor above his head lengthening the lead of the anchor. He smiled, a wicked grin "hey big guy! Wanna wrestle!?" Jair said enthusiastically.

Xoknath | Rebecca Fourtuna | @Rosalia Kahl
 
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“Buy me a drink or two first,” Mitsy laughed in response to the marriage proposal as the mercenary scrambled back to his feet, back in the safety of the group… it didn’t take Trajan long to rouse his troops into more of a defensive circle, one that Mitsy stepped back into as well. As confident as she was in her own abilities, she hadn’t gotten this far by being egotistical to the point of dying, and not taking part of the safety afforded by the other humans, crazy as they were, would have been dumb.

Other humans in the mist. It made her hackles rise -- a trick of the mists? A hallucination? No, she could smell them, above the acrid smell of decay that lay over everything… Could still be a trap, so she moved quickly towards the front of the group, her golden eyes catching sight of the little wriggling grub in the glass tube in the fancy woman’s hands. Oh, that seemed perhaps potentially dangerous. Mitsy grinned.

“New pet?” she teased. “I vote for ‘Wiggles’ for a name.”

She didn’t stick around to ask the woman what she was doing, however. Two quicker strides carried her past the woman and even with Faurosk. He was bearing a staff, after all, and Mitsy cast a glance at it. It was sturdy enough, it’d do him in a pinch. But for someone who depended on magic and now didn’t have that in his proverbial arsenal, it did put him at a distinct disadvantage. She jerked her chin at his staff, even as she uncorked her flask once again. This shit was gonna drive her to drink dry and they hadn’t even gotten all the way in.

“Hey, Morsel. You carrying a blade?” she asked, shifting the bag she carried across her chest to show a long, sharp dagger strapped just below where her tonfa were. She didn’t normally fight with it -- not always the best idea to let a drunk person have a sharp edge -- so she wouldn’t exactly miss it if he needed it.

Elbion_pandemonium
 
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Shado̧w͟s in the mist darted and dance̷d around the adventurers and mages. Ch͏atter͘i̴ng͝. After the initial attack on the fallen mercenary, no other creature attempted an attack. Mits̸y͠ ͞m̷a̢de ̶t̶h͜em͡ cau̴t҉i͠ouş.͠ Yet, they remained nearby. They waited. Are wa̢i͏t̡ing. Mindfưl̢ ̸o͜f ̢t́hose with bows such as Rainie. Their master is on the̡ ͢w̡ay.

Most sha͞d́e̵s m͟ove to the space between the advent̵ur͢e͘rs and way back. A mi̸st͘ake͘ ̸to͝ ̵p̡re̕ss f̧orw̕ard. Es̢c҉ape no longe͞ŕ an opti͡on.

Wiggles gleefu͘lly̶ ̸wiggled in the bottle in anti̷c͢i̢pa̕tion of its journey with the Madame.

The three other mages in the group lowered their hoơd̢s as they limited their field of vision – even if the mist still hampered their sight.

Ke̕ep͘ coming toward us!” the man from earlier yelled.

The mages drew staves and “weapons”. After the muttered a chant, a light appeared at the tip of one mage’s staff to act as a beacon to the adventurers.

Slowly, move with me,” the lead mage told the others as he started to cautiously s̶ta͠lk̶ ̨toward the adventurers.

The other mages followed suit. Bit by bit, the two groups got closer to each other. They kept their eyes moving as they atte̷mpt͘ed to keep track of the creatures in the mist. The mages’ figures became more defined.

As Valkery noticed earlier, Kara Orin stood with the mages. She was the woman that called out to the adventurers. She held a dagger in her right hand t̶hat ǹe͝e̕ded ͜to ̡be ̨de͟st́r͡oy͠ed. When Kara spotted Valkery, she silently blinked for a moment before she continued to scan their surroundings. Wiggles does not like Kara.

A male mage stood to Kara's right. Dark hair and eyes. Sturdy, tall body. Human. With the right attire, he would not look out of place from Trajan’s mercenaries. Yet in his hands, he held a leather-bound book cont͢aininǵ a̧rts not wo̢rt̀hy of̵ ̨F͠a͘u̷r͠osk.

A second female mage stood close to the leading mage. Thin frame. Red hair, green eyes. Slightly taller than Kara. She grasped a simple, wooden quarterstaff in her hands. A waterskin dangled at her hip. W͟h̡iske͜y͝ f͟or th̡e̴ ̨tàki̢ng.

The leader of the mages looked to Trajan. The staff he held sported a blade at the tail end – much like a spear.

Anyone need he͜a͜lin͜g?” the lead mage asked to gau͏ge h͘is p͜rey’̨s ̢strength.

A crease on the man’s forehead revealed him to be near middle age. He sported platinum blonde hair just as Mitsy did. He had sharp features in his face. Sharp, long ears, too.

An únh͝ơly elf. Xeno.

The elf ‘s knuckles grew white as he gripped his spear-staff. Wide eyes glanced at Trajan’s warhammer. Heart pounding. The mis͜t̢ must͝ ͟s͝p͠eak to him̛,̶ tơo. The demons at the adventurers’ rear drew closer. Wiggles grew nervous.

T̸h͜e e͟ļf ͘ḿág͜e͘ ͢took̡ ̴a qu̧i̵c̕k ̧s̶te̶p̕ ͢f̸or̸w̷a̛r̕d̷...

Elbion_pandemonium
 
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The mud threatened to suck the boot right off of the mage's foot, but the footwear managed to hold fast despite the ground's best effort. The faint sensation of movement against Faurosk's ankle, however, could not be so easily overcome. His gaze tilted downward, and a faint tickle of fear ran down the back of his neck as he laid his eyes on the mass of grotesque, wriggling larvae at his feet.

Pic͝k ͟th͡e͡m ̢u͟p.

The feeling of fear was replaced mere moments later by a sense of curiosity. He'd never seen anything quite like these particular worms before, and they must surely be inextricably linked to the mists. Perhaps, if he were to just scoop up a few handfuls and f̧̮i̩͚͙̗̠͘ḽḻ̶̪̪̠̲ ͏̻̦͖̗̫̤ͅh̞̤̦̥́į̦̱͎͙̣s͏̰͉̬̪ ̬̺̯̟̣p̱̤̥̭o̶͇̙̣̯̪̼̫c͏͈͇͎͎̥̦͙k͙͉͓e̙̮t͚͚̮͟s̡̟̦̦͍ͅ ̵w̠͈͖̬͍̹͞i̱̦̣ṯ̨̹͍h̶̪̥ ̯͖̺̣t̸͇͍̤͙h̗͖̹̗e̶̪̲̬̲̯͇͈m̼ -- He caught himself, then. That thought wasn't his.

The mage looked up from the mud realizing he'd entirely lost his train of thought for an uncertain length of time. He pivoted as quickly as he could, given the muck in which he was planted, and noticed that Mitsy was gone from where he knew she'd been the moment before he zoned out. There was a brief moment of panic as he tried to get his bearings once more.

That's when he first laid eyes on the fight happening mere feet away from him, drawn by the flash of blue-white flame that cascaded over the thing that had attacked one of Trajan's mercenaries. The mage only got a look at the creature for a few seconds before his much ballsier acquaintance punched it back into the fog. The only real bead he got on it was that it was dark, and its vacuous form looked almost shadowy in the light.

Shadowy.

He physically recoiled at the realization, turning on his heels with an expression of dawning horror as he payed more attention to the flickering shadows that surrounded their party in the mists. Each one was no longer a trick of the light, but rather a potential enemy, more than willing to drag him out into the obscure. How many of these things could really be hiding out there? Ten? Dozens? Hundreds? Faurosk couldn't begin to guess, but the thought tickled that part of his brain stem that registered only the most primal forms of fear.

It was roughly at that moment that his brain decided higher thought could use a break, and he went into an auto-pilot of sorts. He saw all of the mercenaries forming up, and so his legs carried them towards them. He fell somewhere towards the center of the pack, eyes glazed partially over. Trajan had asked him a question, hadn't he? "Don't worry about it, buddy," said the lizard-brain which had taken the helm of Faurosk's body. "Just relax awhile."

He was finally drawn out of this mental shell game when Mitsy came up on his flank. His mind didn't fully register what she said at first, but the 'r' she uttered fell on the right syllable to be his name. Reboot complete, he shot her a brief look. He noticed the dagger, sheathed carefully towards the small of her back. Faurosk glanced briefly at his own hip, drawing his athame from its sheath a few inches and taking a look at the silver knife's intricately carved surface. It was meant to be used in ritual casting, and he knew that using it to try to kill a demon would probably only piss the entity off and tarnish the blade.

"Uh... Yeah, no, I don't have anything on me that could take one of those things out." He gave her a smile, then, though it was tinged by a small tremor of trepidation. "I would greatly appreciate a loan." There was a small nod to her flask, then, which he noticed she had to tip back pretty far to get the contents out. "I'll pay you back, too-- Wine, liquor. Whatever you want." Maybe it was rude of him to assume it was alcohol, but the scent that carried on her breath was quite unmistakable.

The other figures in the fog closed the distance to the Band of Idiots quite readily. Given that they were from the College of Elbion, they may have even recognized Faurosk, but he almost certainly didn't know them. He'd been a gifted duelist during his time at the school, but left on bad terms. Rumors were numerous as to why this was, but none of the student body really knew.

Faurosk gave the first male mage a quick look, scanning from head to toe to gauge the man's ability. He didn't know why, but for some reason he felt the newcomers posed something of a threat- A competition of sorts. And so Faurosk stood a little taller, held his shoulders a little broader, and puffed his chest just a tad more beneath the folds of his robes. He was so caught up in his self-imposed contest of machismo that he didn't even notice the tensions budding between Trajan and the other group's apparent leader.

Elbion_pandemonium
 
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He did not like this... He did not like this at all. He hated having to expose himself... But this was a threat. Something here felt old, felt primal... And it felt like it was threatening his food supply. Without the farm lands, the humans would leave. If the humans left, he would not be able to steal fish and stuff from the wood buckets when they got careless. Without the fish, he would starve. He did not like the idea of starving. Though he tended to think about the world in relation to himself. Still, he was patient, cautious, and careful when it came to all of this. He was under the dock, not upon it like many others had been. It was here that he had heard everything, it was here that he had decided to act.

So... He listened, moving along the edge of the water and then slipping onto the land a short ways away. Though he was large, he could still conceal himself when he needed to. Thanks to the age of the leather, and the local landscape, he could seem like a really strangely shaped rock... Or at least that is how it was in his mind, though, if someone was observant, they could tell it wasn't... At all. Still, Abriax waited. He watched, he listened, and he waited. They slipped into the mists, and he could hear the sounds of battle. At first, he was thinking on if he should go in or not... And then he felt it...

A slimy hand touching his ankle, slowly closing around it. With an almost unnatural quickness, his clawed hand would dart down around the offending limb, and the sheer power of the Troll would take over. With an overwhelming display of physical might, Abriax would rip the creature from the waters, like one would pull a fish out upon a line, and slam it back first into the ground. His 'cover' was blown at this point, so it was time to do what he does best. Beat things into oblivion. If he made lots of noise out here, it would attract others, but if he whipped this thing into the mists and found them... IT WOULD BE PERFECT!

They would accept him! He was helping! A good thing to do, right?

The creature was unlike anything he had ever seen, and in short order, he needed to make it less of a creature, and more a mass of dead flesh. Before it could get out it's wail, and maybe do something foul, he would grab it by the tail, and whip it over his head, before bringing it down upon the cold, hard ground with enough force to start breaking bones. The whip to each side, his left and his right, was like that of a child punishing a doll for an imaginary wrong doing. Each slam was simply as brutal and powerful as the last, and he would now start walking into the mists... NOW he had a weapon to fight the mists with! This fish monster creature he would wave into the mists and make them go away! He was a genius! Like the old Warmaster had said he was.

An almost dumb look for joy was on his face as he walked with this creature deeper into the mists, slapping it against the ground without a care in the world. He wasn't sure he could eat this... But he would have to try later. For now, he had his anti-mists weapon, and he was going to walk to the adventurers.

WHAAM! THAWK! THUMP!

Each step was followed by one of these noises, until he got close enough to see others, and then he would finally talk, his voice deep. It seemed that the mud, the gore, nothing was bothering this monster of a... Monster?

“Fish monster! Abriax help kill monsters! No kill Abriax!”

Elbion_pandemonium
 
Her palms were beginning to sweat. Taking in everything at once, eyes on the shifting shadows in the mist, listening for a response from the strangers in the gloom, Rainie backed up slowly towards the mercenary group. She slotted into the ranks on the outer edge, arrow still held at the ready.

So, word was, Faurosk likely had no magic. Which was tip-top, really. And he was talking to the mercenary leader like he'd smoked too much pipeweed too quickly on an empty stomach. Just lovely.

A cacophony of noise advanced towards them. Rainie raised her bow, tightening the string and looking wildly around for what she should be aiming at. Footsteps, big ones, coming closer, closer still. A huge lumbering shape advanced towards them, barely visible through the red haze.

Rainie sucked a breath through her teeth, quickly took aim and released. With a curse, she watched the arrow fly wide of the massive shadow advancing towards them. She took a hasty step back and collided with Faurosk, fumbling for the quiver on her hip.

“Fish monster!" An inhuman voice bellowed. "Abriax help kill monsters! No kill Abriax!"

Her fingers froze in the act of notching another arrow. Her queer lavender eyes sought out the shape of a troll in the mist. From what little she could see, it was dragging the carcass of some thing along with it.

For a long moment, Rainie was silent; just staring at this hulking, monstrous thing.

"Uh-huh," she ejected nonsensically. "Sure. Alright." She took a moment to question her life choices... then remembered she'd once teamed up with giants to take down a dragon. "Uhh... No kill humans? Kill monsters?"

Over her shoulder, she whispered: "Am I fucking hallucinating, or am I talking to an actual troll?"

Elbion_pandemonium
 
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Elbion_pandemonium

Valkery did not take her eyes off the worm. but she could feel the monsters in the mist moving, cutting them off. There was no going back. Why did the worm seem excited? She slipped the vile back into her pouch and looked up as she felt the group of mages approach. She saw Kara, she really didn't have an opinion of the young woman. The dagger must be destroyed. Valkery faltered at her own thought. Why? that makes no sense. It is made of mettle it would be easier to disarm her if she was a threat than to destroy the weapon... it was possible but it would wast a lot of magic. She shook her head. The mist was getting to her mind. Their leader seemed to stalk towards them. She felt tensions rise among the mercenaries rise. The man was an elf and even though she did not hear what the mist whispered to Trajan she knew how men like Trajan thought.

"Steady brothers, ease your minds, the mist speaks lies, these are our allies. Don't let the mist turn us against each other," She called out in a commanding voice. Taking up a similar authority that Trajan had demonstrated earlier.

Then she felt it... no heard it. a thumping and heavy footsteps approaching. Something different from the shadows was coming. large and monstrous. A troll burst out of the mist and Valkery tensed. She could tell this was not a monster of the mist but it was a monster just the same... she didn't know much about troll anatomy, it would not as easy to kill this thing. Wait, it was offering its help. And the bard girl with the bow had accepted. But it was a troll. You can't go accepting the help of troll's, it could try to eat them.

She glanced at Trajan her expression hardened with concern and dedication. "Brother leave the elf, for now, this is a monster more worthy of our attention."
 
SPINE
Spine_pandemonium

Rice did not receive any instructions. Eoliaf was just watching, The Mighty One of Many Ages was still sleeping. So she just stared back up at the Orc lady. She wasn't sure if she should be afraid or not... she should probably be afraid but she didn't feel anything. Sounds of fighting broke out not far off and she found herself lifted up and placed on the back of the woman's barghest. There, there is what we are looking for. Eloiaf's voice came in her mind. Stay with the orc lady until I tell you.
 
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Spotting the forming defensive circle of mercenaries being formed by Trajan, Kali sifted through the ranks into the middle. She readied her rapier, unsheathing a small dagger from her belt as well. With a vague interest, she watched the white haired woman deposit one of the worms inside of a vial, and a small grin appeared at the suggested name. It was clear she was taking care not to touch the worm, so she paid little mind to it outside of idle curiosity.

What was far more of immediate interest to her was the party advancing in their direction. Some allies in this venture would certainly be appreciated. However, the tension was clear between their two groups. Faurosk seemed to be participating in some sort of silent manliness contest with a male mage, and Trajan didn't appear to be the most accepting kind towards elves, judging from his previous speech. Of course, they were a bit patronizing, with their supposed 'generous' offer of he͜a͜lin͜g. Trying to pick out the weakling in the group, trying to gau͏ge his p͜rey’̨s ̢strength, as if they think she couldn't belon-

She blinked in surprise, shutting off the disruptive train of thought. She had barely even talked to these people, how could she already be so hostile? It was the mist, as the white haired woman said before. "The more we listen to it, the easier it'll be for whatever's in this mist to pick us off. So word of advice, don't listen to the mist."

Throughout her message, a low WHAAM! THAWK! THUMP! was echoing through the mist. As she ended her advice, the sound was becoming quite noticeable, a steady series of footsteps, with the odd sound of what sounded like flesh slapping the mud becoming audible intermittently. She turned to the source of the sound, trying to pinpoint the cause of it. Sure enough, a troll with no shortage of excitement erupted through the mist, a carcass trailing behind it.

"Oh, hello Abriax..." Kali began, her words trailing off as she found herself immediately considering the sanity of her mind. Luckily, Rainie confirmed that she could've also been suffering from some collective spontaneous fever dream. She leaned over to her to whisper, "I see it too, don't worry. Still might be crazy, though." She shrugged, mostly joking in her last sentiment.

Looking back to 'Abriax,' she decided to continue the conversation. "You want to help us kill the monsters?" She asked, hoping for some clarification. "If so, we wouldn't mind extra help. Well, I wouldn't mind." She lowered her weapons in an attempt to seem like less of a threat, looking back to the group for some extra input.

Elbion_pandemonium
 
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After a few minutes trekking up a hill, Am'Thet and her motley crew finally reached the top. Before her lies the town of Himmerich, seemingly abandoned and half engulfed by the dreaded mist. Besides her, one of the warriors set about lighting a torch, currently with no luck. Hopefully he could get the torch lit, perhaps it'll come handy once they enter the mist. Nonetheless, Am'Thet slithered towards the mist, hoping to see what may be within.

While the mist was beginning to disperse, it was still rather dense, being able to only see a few feet into it. Undeterred, she leaned over, picking up a small rock next to her. After getting a good feel for it, she then threw it into the mist as hard as she could. Who knows, maybe she'd hit something and knock it out cold.

Turning back around, she was greeted by the orange glow of a torch. "Good job soldier." She chimed, comforted by the torch's glow. "Anyway, torch bearer up front, rest behind him. Stay close! If you get lost in there, you'll never be found." Am'Thet barked, the crew forming up as instructed. "If we die today, we'll die knowing that we charged into danger! We'll die knowing that we fought alongside one another, as comrades in arms! If we die today, we'll die upholding the honor of our homeland!" Am'Thet cried, raising her spear up high. "For the Crimson Tahk!" They all yelled in unison as they charged into the mist. First the torch bearer, and then the rest following them.

Alliria_pandemonium
 
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Mitsy had caught the look on Faurosk’s face as he looked at his athame and then back up at her; it was only natural to be affected by this place, by the whispers… by realizing that your greatest strength had left you in your time of need. Almost made her feel for him. Almost. He was still human. She smirked, pulling the dagger out and lightly tossing it from one hand to the other before presenting it to him, handle first. It was more of a short sword than a dagger, really, easily as long as his forearm, and wickedly sharp, with a scroll of writing in the blade he wouldn’t recognize.

“I’ll take my payment in hard liquor when we’re done,” she replied, winking. “So, Tidbit, don’t be rude and die or anything.”

Out of the mists, however, came the other group of … people. Maybe not people. There was something about them that Mitsy didn’t trust -- aside from the very obvious fact they were humans -- and everything about this disgusting mist was grating on her nerves and really, really she wasn’t nearly drunk enough to deal with this shit. Ooh. One of them had whiskey, too. Her golden eyes rested on the skin before sliding back to the woman’s face. Whatever she might have said, however, was interrupted by the arrival of a… troll?

Was it a troll though? Or was it just a diversion, because the elf mage was leveling his staff at them and the rest of their party was now stupidly staring at the troll and partaking in inane conversation instead of focusing on the group of strangers which meant it was a perfect time for an attack from them -- only, they wouldn’t get a chance, because Mitsy was already moving. Lunging forward, she spat pale-blue fire in the direction of the elf-mage to distract him, the flat of one tonfa whipping towards the side of the red haired woman’s head. Not a killing blow, she wasn’t using nearly enough force, but one that would instantly drop her if it landed.

Elbion_pandemonium
 
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Dio walked to keep pace within the moving defensive circle. And he took an interest in what the unnamed woman was doing with the worm. Huh. Neat little trick to seal it in the vial. What was she going to do with the worm, anyway? Imagine if some of the mist's power could be harnessed from it. Imagine. The potential.

"Dead things," Kilo said, with a brief flap of his wings.

"Ssh," Dio said, waving his hand in front of the bird on his shoulder. "Stop being creepy."

Trajan didn't see the gathering mob of monsters blocking the way they had come. Only heard the whispers. A mistake to press forward. Escape no longer an option. And it brought an eager smirk to his face as he marched. Good. This simplified their tactical situation considerably.

He didn't respond to Faurosk's peculiar answer. The peculiarity of it seemed enough. The man was a mage, perhaps the most versed in the arcane among them. And if the mist truly did eat magic, it made sense that Faurosk might suffer from the kind of mystical drunkenness he seemed to be in. Or Mitsy had immediately counterbalanced her virtue with vice and slipped the wizard her flask for him to drink from while Trajan wasn't looking. Whatever the reason for his babble, it mattered little. The answer appeared clear enough.

And Trajan came within a few paces of the leader of the group of four. Called, "For-MA-tion! Halt!"

Right. Left. And the circle of mercenaries stopped. Kept their guards up. Tense and ready to strike.

A crease in his brow at the sight of their leader. An únh͝ơly elf. Xeno.

The elf. Gripping his own weapon. Eyeing Trajan's. Envious scum.

And the elf dared advance--!

A voice. Steady, and potent with force of will. Trajan jerked, stopping in mid-motion of preparing a forward thrust of his warhammer, and committed one of the mortal sins of combat; he took his eyes off of his foe. A slight glance back. To the woman with the majestic hat.

A snap realization. He had strayed, but his good sister had set him back on the path. Yes, she was right. The mist did speak lies. These men and women were their allies, by the sheer and undeniable fact that the whispers of the mist wished it to not be so. And yes. As much as he loathed it, to find himself in such an awkward and unenviable position, the elf, too, was an ally...for now. Until the source of the mist had been found, he couldn't rule out the xeno. Healthy suspicion would win the day.

Though, a strange thought. One almost entirely alien to him. That the otherworldly mist had brought human and elven kind together in common cause. What madness, made sane, by this wholly nefarious threat having descended upon Arethil from some godsforsaken elsewhere. Hmm. A Vel Anirian saying seemed apropos. The enemy of my enemy is my friend...until he becomes my enemy once again. As it would be for elf leader.

Valynthe.

He closed his eyes for a hard second and banished the thought of her. No rage or hatred in it. Only sorrow. And a dark shame. Of what he'd done.

Then. They had bigger problems. A new monster emerged. One so beastly it would use its own brethren as a weapon.

Rainie, displaying excellent initiative, fired upon the troll first. Missed. It was the initiative that counted.

Perhaps her faith had faltered? Her and Kalliana both, now? Yes, the sight of hulking monstrosities alone wrecked havoc upon the morale of good men and women, even those battle-hardened. The mercenaries of the circle who were facing the troll visibly shook and had to redouble their efforts to keep their shields up and stand their ground.

Glory be, Trajan would know this woman's name, the one with the hat, before all this business was done. For she had an admirable fervor and knew precisely where to direct her holy wrath. She had a confidence and a command of herself that inspired Trajan to even higher heights of righteousness! An honor, the likes of which he only seldom knew, to be here with her, on the frontlines of the defense of Mankind and Arethil. He was humbled to even be in her presence.

A firm nod to her. And he turned from the elf leader and toward the troll.

Who was to say that this troll was not corrupted by the mists, or a denizen thereof? That it spoke lies too?

"Raise those weapons!" he shouted to Kalliana. "And ready that bow!" he shouted to Rainie.

Trajan made a move to shift to another part of the circle. His intention to step out in front of it. Between the mercenaries who faced the incoming troll and the monster itself. To lead his men. He said as he took a step, "We've--"

But it was only a single step. Then a blur past him. And Mitsy attacked the group of four.

Elbion_pandemonium
 
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Once Abriax entered the mist, several shadows trailed him. They hesitated to attack. Instead, they appeared to escort him and his macabre club while remaining out of the troll's reach.

The Elf glanced up to see a massive creature approaching. He braced himself with his staff and began to point it to the troll. It just so happened that the adventurers were between the mages and the troll…

Suddenly, Mitsy spat fire at the Elf. He stepped back. Shock appeared on his face.

Hah!” he screamed as he channeled magic into his staff. A gust emerged from his staff’s tip and pushed the blue fire away.

Kara’s grip on her dagger tightened. Purple runes illuminated on it.

Stop!” Kara yelled as Mitsy was already swinging at the Redhead.

The Redhead lifted her wooden quarterstaff to successfully block Mitsy’s tonfa. However, the impact snapped the staff in two. A concussive explosion followed and threw the Redhead back a couple meters.

The Bookworm took a couple steps back. He began to read from his book and chant.

The demons that had been lurking nearby now made their move. They all rushed at the Band of Idiots from behind. There seemed to be almost one beast for each of Trajan’s mercenaries. Those on the outer edges of the defensive circle were attacked first.

A feral beast lunged at Faurosk to carve the flesh on his legs. One creature dashed at Rainie to attempt to bite off her hand. Another leaped into the air in order to dive at Dio.

While being in the center of the circle, nothing yet attacked Valkery and Kali. Wiggles felt safe here. The demons gave Wiggles fright.

For Abriax, two creatures stayed near the troll. They positioned themselves between Abriax and the edge of the mist from where the troll came. One of them scooped up some soil and tossed it at Abriax’s face. Mud and worms rushed toward the troll’s head.

Nothing charged at Trajan, Mitsy, and the mages. The Elf turned his attention to Mitsy – wherever she went after the explosion. He pointed his staff at Mitsy and chanted. Compared to a normal combat mage, the Elf's chant was slow. The mud before Mitsy began to flow toward her to overcome her. Enough dirt covering a being would immobilize them.

Stop!” Kara yelled again as she stepped toward the Elf.

The Bookworm continued to chant. A light began to form near Trajan. An arm holdin͠g̛ á ̀b͟eati̛n̢g hea̴r͞t̕ ̷sudden͏ly poke̛d óu̶ţ o͞f̴ t͏h͏e̡ ̛Bo͏o̶k̸w͟ǫr̸m’͘s ͢c̕he͏s̶t̡.

No warnin̵g̴. The light disappeared. Another demon standing behind the Bookworm. M̛o̧re humanoid. Less beas̴t͟ly͘.̛ Not feral. Ţh͞e M͘àste̷r.

It retracted its arm while still holding his victim’s heart. The Boo͘k͟wórm̨’ş ͟co̧r͘pse fell face first to the ground. The demon then lobbed t͞he h̨e̢art into the air so that it would land among the B͜a̕n̢d ̕o͘f̸ ̵Idiotş.

I̕t sta̵r̛e̶d̸ ̀a҉t ̀Trajan̴.́

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Elbion_pandemonium
 
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Faurosk took the dagger with great care, holding it how one might hold a bomb. He kept the point facing away from the squishy parts of his human body, keeping it pointed towards the ground rather than anyone in particular. His numerous belts had countless compartments for all sort of miscellany, but he lacked a sheath large enough for the impressive stiletto. Still, he was thankful to have some means of defending himself. The mage gave Mitsy a gracious smile, turning the knife over in his hand and applying a steady grip. With a mouthed "I owe you one", he turned his attention back to their surroundings, trying to more properly gain his bearings once more.

It was around then that all hell broke loose.

The steady thump of approaching footfalls. The electric thrum of rising tensions. A headache split through the mage's fog-addled mind, fueled by anxiety and an overwhelming sense of imminent danger. He went to clutch his head, but the knife and staff he held on to made the gesture difficult. Instead, he placed the fist holding his staff against his temple, screwing one eye shut against the budding pain. There was a flash of blue light, then, and a powerful gust of air blew the heat back across the Band of Idiots. The only warning of the incoming demons that Faurosk received came from his familiar, which growled at the shadowy figure moving full-speed out of the mist.

The mage wrenched his fist from his head and flashed his eyes open just in time to see his familiar plant itself sturdily into the mud, latching onto the demon by its shoulder and using its own momentum to sweep it off its feet. The demon went down like a sack of cinder blocks, landing flat on its back with more of a 'squish' than a 'thud'. It flailed about beneath the hound like a Kraken sweeping its tentacles over the deck of a ship, blindly seeking crew members to drag down to the briny depths. Its claws found purchase across the dog's back, raking it open with a spray of crimson. The hound yelped out in pain, inadvertently releasing its grip upon the demon's shoulder and flying back off of its prone form.

The muddled mess of Faurosk's mind became clear in that moment. No longer did it matter that his magic was failing him, perhaps never to heal back to its full potential. No longer did it matter that the Mist was driving him ever closer to the edge of madness, planting thoughts in his brain that were not his own. Hell, it hardly even mattered that the demon was clawing towards his legs with renewed vigor.

Instead, all of these thoughts were replaced with a seething veil of red-hot rage. The mage threw himself down atop the demon, surprising the malicious entity with his flat-out assault. He got his legs on either side of the thing's torso, pinning it to the ground with his mass alone as he drove his borrowed knife in a downward plunge towards the demon's trio of eyes. One of its clawed hands managed to grasp Faurosk's wrist before his blade made landfall with its face, tearing at the mage's wrist and shredding the material of his gloves. There was a split second of struggling between both parties, then, before Faurosk raised his staff-wielding fist above his head and pummeled it down into the pommel of the dagger. The blade lunged downward towards the demon with renewed effort, giving it a nasty slash along where its cheek should have been. Black ichor poured out of the fresh wound, soaking the blade of the knife as the mage reared it back for another stab.

He proceeded to punch the dagger into the wailing entity's skull twice more. The second thrust rewarded his efforts with a loud crunch and an additional spray of slick, black discharge, and the third and final strike propelled the dagger several inches through where the bridge of the demon's nose should have been, squarely in the center of its three eyes. It was then that the demon's struggling finally ceased, and the mage fell back in shock.

Faurosk sat in a stunned sort of contemplation for a brief moment before gripping the handle of the knife and ripping it back out of the creature's absolutely destroyed frontal lobe. He rose to his feet and cast his familiar a quick glance to make certain it was alright, happy to find that the dog was healthy enough to be on its feet even as its fur stained redder. It looked up at Faurosk with a gaze that almost seemed to say, "Dude, where the hell did that come from?!"

The mage wheeled back around to the rest of the group, face spattered with a fluid that looked remarkably similar to crude oil and eyes flitting about to see who was most in need of assistance. Entirely focused on the Band of Idiots, first and foremost, Faurosk didn't even realize that the creatures' leader had turned up for the party.

Elbion_pandemonium
 
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Success was his! He was not directly attacked by anyone when he came walking up. That was something to excited about. Instead, they asked questions, and questions where indeed a sign of being trusted. The first one to talk to him was the girl with hair like fire, so he walked towards her, her questions showing that she was good. At least that is how it was explained to him by the now ancient warlord. Still, there was much to do, and since the fish demon monster thing had stopped flopping about, it was clear it was dead and now able to be used as a meat flail. Which was helpful, because it now meant that he had more reach than before... Wait... QUESTIONS! They needed answers!

Yes! Kill monsters! Humans... Good enough. Leave out fish. Much good. Monsters to fight now. Abriax fight monsters!” He bellowed out, the deep voice strong and confident... Almost foolishly brave. He had been followed by two creatures of in the shadows. While they always hovered back, just out of reach, now that he had found the group of adventurers, he was free to turn these ones into piles of meat and broken bones! He shouted out the challenge he had heard so many times in his youth. “Come fools! Face Abriax and know sorrow!”

It was then that a demon of shadow like abilities had decided his face was a clean target. That was enough to really piss off the Troll... And to make matters worse, they kept hanging back! Like a bunch of taunting little goblins. Those kind always stayed out of reach, making you run to chase them, but never being able to catch the tiny little maggots before they hid away inside of something he couldn't tear open and throw them into the sky. No, there was a much better way to deal with all those creatures at once. If they wanted to deal with Abriax, they would have to come to him...

As the soil and bugs sailed, Abriax had enough time to duck down, avoiding the mess all together, and then reared back, throwing the dead meat sack of a demon towards the creatures of shadow at the very ends of the reach. Either it would hit them, or it wouldn't either way, they would have to make some kind of choice on how to proceed, and it would give him time to make other plans... Right now, those plans involved smashing something into the ground so hard that it's mother would be jealous of such a pounding.

The creature that lunged at Rainie would be in for a rude, and rather painful, surprise. Those massive hands and claws would rain down upon the beast, grabbing it and rending off hunks of fleshing, tossing them aside. Despite the clawing that was happening against the Troll, it honestly didn't seem to give a damn about the pain, as though that was something that never even entered his mind. It was when he finally got the figure gripped in both of his hands that things would get... Well, gross. With hand upon it's shoulder, and the other upon it's hip, he would not rip apart, but instead, he would compress.

As Abriax's muscles rippled with raw physical might, the manifested form of the demon would crumple in on it's self. Like a paper cup in the hands of a vengeful toddler, he would crush inwards with more than enough force to end it's life. Bones snapping, blood spraying, muscles ripping, and all the noises that followed the creatures rapid death would be there. When Abriax tossed the remains aside, he would stand there, proud of himself. The wounds on his body where healing as well, right before their eyes. This is why the creature had no sense of fear. It's wounds would seal within moments of them being inflicted, and leave no trace behind.

“Monsters are no match for Abriax! Come and face your doom!” He shouted, like an over the top performer, trying to get a rise out of people.

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"HuuueeeeeeeeeeyyyyyyyyyAAAAAAA!" A hulking human, clad almost head to toe in beautiful, ornate gold and silver armor appeared out of the mist near Mitsy and the mages. His tower shield held steady in one hand, a large three-tailed flail swinging above his head in the other hand. He was racing forward, full tilt toward the demon, swinging the flail with all his might right for the demon's head.

"BACK, FOUL CREATURE! THE POWER OF NUA NUA COMPELS YOU!" The warrior cried, even as the demon dodged his strike. He swung again, and the demon dodged just as easily. It was only then that he realized the others were nearby, and despite everything, flashed them a winning smile. "Good day, fellows!"

His eyes landed on Mitsy, and for a brief moment his shield dropped from it's defensive position. "... I KNOW YOU! Woah!" As the demon retaliated, he only barely got his shield back up in time to deflect the attack. "BACK I SAY! Hyaah!"
 
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Quite a few things happened at once... There was a flash of blue fire that signaled the eruption of chaos. Rainie swung around in time to see Mitsy throw herself at the elf-mage who had offered healing. What the f- Spells were cast, runes glowed, staves snapped, all in rapid succession.

And then, it was utter Bedlam.

Black shapes descended upon the proclaimed Band of Idiots, claws tearing and jaws snarling. She just caught a glimpse of one rushing at Faurosk and Nota, terror paralyzing her for a beat of her racing heart.

"Faur-" Rainie called, cut off with a shriek when she sensed the monstrosity rushing herself. She dove out of the way just in time, dagger in her hand as she rolled to her feet. Blood dribbled from the graze that would have taken her hand off, the pain not yet registering with the adrenaline pumping through the bard's veins.

She took a defensive stance, knowing that she couldn't do much to help her wizard if she was dead. Just as the creature began to lunge at her, however, a pair of massive clawed hands gripped it and tore the shrieking demon asunder.

Rainie gasped in shock and froze, then beamed as she leapt in the air with a cry of, "You beauty!" Laughing maniacally, she cried above the din of the fight, "You handsome bastard! If we survive this, you're getting a steak dinner, Abriax!" She sheathed her dagger with a mad grin and readied her bow.

The first thing she saw was a demon going after one of the mercenaries, named Dio. She drew back her arrow and loosed it, watching in satisfaction as it hit it's mark, square between a pair of glowing eyes.

Frantically, her eyes scanned the area for her wizard. He stood almost astride an absolutely murdered creature, splattered with black blood, looking wild and terrified. Delighted to see him alive, she noted with worry that Nota was looking a bit worse for wear, fur rusty with fresh blood.

Before she could rush over to cover the mage, her attention was dragged away from her little Band of Idiots to the shouts coming from the group of strangers. She happened to look over just in time to see one of the wizards' heart thrust straight out of his chest. She looked over the wizard's shoulder to see a horned demon standing there, eyes all aglow.

It retracted it's arm, and the corpse of the Bookworm fell limply into the mud. Then it threw the bleeding heart it held, and Rainie's eyes followed it's gruesome trajectory to where it landed, not a meter from her own booted feet.

For a long second, her heart seemed to stop. The demon was unlike the others; standing tall and eyes glowing with intelligence.... intelligence and hate. Rainie swallowed against the lump of sheer panic in her throat.

"We... we should run," she choked out, eyes wide.

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