Chapter Two: The Auran.

Histlan knew she'd very well interjected into something that was more than likely none of her her business, but she'd not actually physically thrown herself in between Sachieal and Nemes' as they spoke and a frown pulled strongly on her lips as Hurst was suddenly in front of her. He'd been brilliantly quick about it too, she'd not foresaw it. Shifting a foot back, she took a half-step back, raising her chin more to show her pride more clearly, as well as her annoyance of being so bluntly intervened. Though she'd never have admitted it was partially from the fact she'd shallowly wished the chance to speak with a Lumerian.

The agitation left her face for a touch of surprise for Hurst's unexpected volunteering her to help in the search. At this rate she'd never find her bed for the night. "Wait. Pardon me, but..." Last time she'd gone off on a search for Origin, it'd been quite useless for to have even been there. In truth she had been wrong about the danger, but by the time she'd even found help and gotten there she'd only made moods worse than helped any. Histlan breathed out a sigh of resignation into the cold air, "Yes, I will he-."

Her grip tightened severely on the staff of her halbert and a strong chill ran up her back strongly, feeling like it took moments to stab at her spine. The sound of Obsidian's sound was clear in her sensitive ears and though distant still was disturbing in its devilish pleasure. She remained in the silence it'd induced over her as she slowly turned to face its direction with a strong unease.

The harsh cry of the... she couldn't even be sure it was an animal... raged pain upon Starlyght's long ears. She had to bite her lip to keep from crying out at the speed that it made her heart race. All her training had been against skin and flesh, there were no shadows in her home, everything was balanced there. There wasn't such a thing capable of producing that blood-curdling war cry. And yet it was nothing to the sound that came next, more surely human, but filled with a bloodlust Starlyght could not stand. She found that she was already to her feet, knowing the sound must of waken most of the camp. If anything was going on though, the girl was her first priority, since she had to assume that everyone was targeting the Auran.

Looking to Silver, who certainly had awaken, his sensitive ears also twitching from the aftershocks of such noises. He looked to his master, who nodded to him solemnly. Silver curled his tails around Leyla's arm, which was closest to him, and lifted his ears, listening for any signs of impending danger. Starlyght also twisted her head, trying to detect any signs of where the battle was occuring, so as to know where some of the party was and to know where the rest of the likely group wasn't. Her staff was clutched firmly her her hand, and she calmed herself slightly in order to center. She was thankful that she was still on her territory, with snow underfoot her power would not drain. Her pale hand stretched out before her, and her minded connected with the cool liquid surrounding her. She asked it to reshape itself into stalagmites surrounding the carriage, which it did, smoothly rising from the ground and forming sharp four foot structures all around. Whatever was coming was going to have a hard time getting very far. On a second thought she surrounded other carriages likewise in order to hide the importance of any one in particular.

Sachieal turned from Hurst to Histlan, and then to Nemes. He had no idea what just happened, as Hurst had flown forth from nowhere and interjected into the already frustrating search party. Sachieal doubled over in laughter at the scene, but quickly regained his composure. The cry from whatever creature roamed the forest suddenly had Sachieal's attention. He recongized the sound as demonic instantly. We'd better find Origin, I didn't like that sound...

"Now Hurst," Sachieal patted the man, suprisingly sober, on the shoulder and winked. "It's a tad unreasonable to volunteer a lady for a job that may require a late night." Sachieal turned to Histlan and smiled gently, despite the gesture being futile. "Histlan, if you wish to retire for the night, then Nemes, Hurst, and I shall make a search party on our own. We'd love to have the help, however, if you so wish to join us."

Sachieal turned to Nemes again and smirked. "So, split up in pairs?"

Origin shot up from her carriage bed, looking wildly around, what was that sound? Without a second though she made to dash for the exit, but it was firmly barred by something... Ice.

Damn it all to hell. She didn't know any fire tricks to melt the stuff, and from the sheer size of it, she didn't know if those would have helped in the first place.

She pounded on the door, trapped and afraid. These carriages were spelled against dark attacks, after all, they belonged to the nobility, who had a strong penchant for the light magicians.

She gave a small cry and pounded on the door.

"Hush now Little One," she heard a voice coming from towards the top of the carriage.

"Vasquiri?"

"Nay Little One," Olorafien said with a sigh, "I am not my dear brother. I fear he has been stealing all of your affections."

"You trapped me in here!" she raged, clambering up on the seat of the carriage t oclaw at the ceiling.

A light chuckled perforated the thick ceiling, "Nay, 'twas not I, ice is not my strong suit. But I shall protect you, at least until the danger has passed. Now rest."

The last words were a command that Origin dared not disobey. She could not be sure exactly who it was on the other side of those wooden boards, and with all of the spells and charms on the carriage, she was powerless. She sat down on the carriage bed and fretted, pulling at the ends of her hair and nipping her fingers until they bled. She was trapped, and she had no idea where the femelf Starlyght was, or where Leyla was, if they were together, or safe.

----
(Leyla)

The girl hugged Silver, terrified at the sound. "I'm scared, where's Ori?" she whined, buring her face into the animal's soft fur. The woman had been gone so long, she was worried. Would this Star lady know how to tuck her in at night? Did she know any good stories? Did she have sweets in her pockets?

Leyla sidled up a corner of the carriage with the dog, eyeing Star as to what she would do next. This was no Origin, this one carried weapons, and didn't wear very much, something Origin had whispered as the sign of a quick warrior. There were no long flowing skirts to bundle into, a dog, yes, but there was not much hiding behind those little armor plates on her chest and below her belly.

"I'm scared," she peeped, looking at Star's face, one turned into an instinctive warrior's stare as the elf female looked around for the source of the loud, scary sound.

Starlyght surveyed the surrounding area once more before backing to the carriage when she heard Leyla's soft voice. Though she did not take her eyes from the darkness, she moved her right hand back to the girl, offering what comfort she could. "I don't know where Origin is, but she is a strong woman and everyone is looking for her. I will keep you safe, I promise, and Silver isn't going to let anything happen to you either." Star's voice was more maternal than she had ever expected herself capable of, but she had never been charged with guarding a child before either. She did wish she could look the little one in the eye and reassure her more with a hug, but that was when they would both be attacked, and keeping Leyla alive and safe was more important, despite Star's wishes.

Silver couldn't stand the little one's cries, it made him sad inside, in a way he hadn't felt since he had been lost, before he had found his master. He wanted to find the source of the noise so that he could stop it from scaring his friend anymore. Since he couldn't leave her though, he just rubbed his head against her own soft cheek and pressed his body harder against the youngling's. He saw when his master put up the ice barriers and was grateful, his master had never failed before in a battle of snow. He whined a bit in sympathy to the little one, trying to let her know that he would protect her, just like he protected his master.

(( Since there's no clear description - that I noted - of the general terra of the country or this part of your world in general other than vague notations, I just decided to base my post on the winters of the Eurasian steppes. =) Which I based on info in a prior post. ))

By the time Czernian reached the strange encampment of his few soldiers, he had already made his decision - the caravan was guarded, and based on several accounts there was a strong Lumerian force.

It had all the smells of secrecy - and even though it was likely that he would lose men (possible a great deal of men) to rooting out the possible gem, he would rather suffer that loss and have nothing to show than let something potentially groundbreaking slip through his fingers. No, he'd rather wear his skin than have it flayed.

And so he relayed terse orders for his officers to have their teams armored and mounted within fifteen minutes - just enough time to dismount and arm his own self, and narrow his focus from the possible stupidity of this action onto the heat of his skin - something that defied the winter cold. Focus, and control would make this battle a quick one. He couldn't afford anything less.

It was a dizzying, exciting thought. Terrifying but also... rewarding.

"Bron," he confided in his horse quietly, leaning a shoulder against the tall animal as he strung his bow, mouth slanted into a thoughtful line, "let's give them hell." Kovak slid the bow into a carrier latched to the saddle - designed so that the bow could be held there safely and strung at all speeds, and easily plucked out for rapid use. The man swung into the saddle, checked his arrow supply, as well as a few other special supplies that were always handy in a scrap.

When reassured that everything was in order, he urged the horse to walk forward and within easy hearing distance of everyone in his small contingent. The fingers of his hand ruffled Brom's mane - which was cut short, so that it stood up stiff and bristled as a crest. Should have eaten beforehand. Ah, well.

"Men!" He said, his voice sudden and sharp as a whipcrack. The sounds of their milling stopped, much as if in surprise. "You got your directions from your captains. We move from the trees, and encircle them as fast as possible. Make sure to kill their horses and beasts first - and if any try to run past, make sure they pay for it in blood." He nodded, solemnly, and took a breath. "Kill anyone who resists. Immobilize those who don't." He paused, staring at the joined men for a long moment, and all of them had a moment of grim understanding. They were not the honorable foe on the field, but rather the knife in the back.

But that was what would keep them alive.

"Move out!"

And so they rode, making for the forest edge. It was a too-short ride. The steam rose from their breaths in plumes, and Czernian likened their lot to an overgrown pack of hungry wolves. Slavering for the taste of a meal. And there was some truth in that... war had a way of changing a man. Life was never the same.


When they erupted from the forest, the sudden open quarters allowed men on all sides to kick their horses into a gallop, to better encircle the caravan as fast as possible. Arrows, shot too quick to see, filled beasts of burden on all sides, turning the poor animals into pincushions. Those whose legs didn't buckle in death screamed frantically, bucking or writhing in the intensity of their pain.

((Uft! Multitasking!))
((Soraya))

Penthar’s forceful shove sent Soraya reeling back and crashing against poor, old Hivaro, yet her eyes remained fixed on the Umbri. Obsidian’s Aura was so powerful, Soraya did not even need to get near it to look into the dark creature… not that she intended to; Umbri were pure shadows, sometimes called spirits, though in truth they had no soul. Their ‘personalities’ were merely the fruit of an accumulation of memories of either those they killed or of the souls of other Umbrovians still within the Auralis, temporarily residing in the animated darkness… but much to her surprise Soraya did find something within Obsidian, revealing to her he was more than a simple shadow.

“Take care, Penthar!” Soraya shouted over the din. “It’s… It’s a Surdan!”… she was not sure, but she warned him all the same. Soraya unsheathed her sword, her free arm beginning to flicker with purple flames. She turned to Kath as he started running towards camp. “Be quick, Captain! We will leave together; you’re not to remain there! May the Gods be with you…” The Captain was gone, now it was up to her and the rest to keep the Yeidin as busy as possible so as not to notice kath. Both Hivaro and Soraya readied themselves for an attack, expecting the Yeidin to come crashing through the woods at any moment, trying her best to keep an eye on the camp and its soldiers, and at the same time eagerly watching Penthar with curiosity as to how he would bind the beast…

Obsidian did not even try to dodge the little man’s battle axe, the dark creature grinning at his pointless bravery. The un-spelled axe went clear through Obsidian’s neck as if he were smoke, only to rematerialize again. The Shadow reared its head, now aiming to snap the man’s back in half, but it was then that he caught sight of his new acquaintance, and its master. Obsidian roared again, an equally gruesome sound as he challenged his fellow Umbri, not taking much notice of the mortal human that clung to it.

Obsidian’s fat belly slapped against the snow as he crouched for a second before leaping towards the sky, his back exploding into black tendrils, twisting and morphing to form massive black wings. He took to the air, streaking between the pine trees until disappearing above, using the deluding mess of snow, trees, branches and black sky for cover rather than the shadows.

His favorite game of cat and mouse had begun.

((Nemes))

“Oh… I- I’m sorry, I thought you wanted to join… you looked concerned for the girl…” Hurst blurted out as he turned to happily yank Histlan forth to join their search, but stopped before he could touch her upon finding the tight frown. Before he could say anything further, he cringed with pain at the horrid screech of Obsidian piercing his ears... and before they knew it they were under attack. Hurst unsheathed his sword. “Hm… looks like we’ll have to search later… we got company!”
Just as the distinctive roar of an Umbri echoed through the camp did a shower of arrows rain down on the unsuspecting Yeidin army. Nemes cursed; this was what he feared, this was why he pushed and nagged his officers and captains, there was no time or place for social talk, flirts or annoyance, as was the pale man before him. If they were all alert, rather than lazing about, there would be no surprises, and they would get an earful about it later.

As soon as the arrows slammed into soldiers, horses, tents, armor and ground, Nemes had roared out his orders and sounded the horn, his men springing into action; Lumerians raised the protective shielding spells, each one linking to the next until a good part of the camp was sealed by an invisible wall that would deter arrows and other weapons, but not strong enough to stop living beings or spelled weapons. The Umbrovian allies took their positions, each a distance from the Lumerians, to prevent the conflict of their own spells.

Lumerians at the very fringes of the camp sent Shamse spells streaking out, better known as the ‘lighting’ spells to form burning veins of light with the purpose of diminishing shadows and allowing better visibility in the dark. Now it was up to the soldiers to hold their ground, and fight against the enemy.

Nemes raised his voice as much as he could as he instructed Sachieal hoping the man would hear him despite the sudden explosion of noise. “Send out troops to attack the enemy, I must get back to the carriages!” And with that Nemes took off, white wings carrying his as fast as he could to the families, heart racing and would not calm before he’d reached the carriages. He was at first shocked by the sight of Ice incasing each one, but quickly made the connection with the Ice Nymph. He nodded in approval to her as she caught sight of him flying overhead and came to a stop once hovering directly above the circle of carriages. With a steady voice, he chanted the beginning of a spell…

((Odei))

Odei’s trained eyes scanned the dark ground before him as he patrolled the surroundings of the camp, on foot, seeing that Obsidian did not respond to his call. Ivaylo had gone off in another direction. So far… nothing, and there was nothing of dark Aura either that was close enough for Odei to sense. Assuming that all was well, Odei was just about to turn back to camp… then Obsidian broke the night’s silence.

In an instant Odei looked to the shadows for traces, and it was the accidental slight passing of a Sudao soldier through the dark that marked their location; they were smart, refraining from the use of shadows, but it mattered little now, he knew where they were. He was just about to melt through the shadows and join Obsidian in an attack, when he heard the sudden burst of commotion behind him; Sudao soldiers poured out through the woods, and had already encircled their camp…

He stepped through the blackness, and reappeared seconds later closer to the camp, but not close enough as the Lighting spells minimized the shadows about it; this would make the use of his spells difficult, but he would try. Odei mentally recited the ancient spells and much to his relief they worked- if not to their full potential. Several of the enemy’s charging horses suddenly stumbled and toppled over, some crushing their riders, as their legs dipped into shadows that seemed to tear the earth away from beneath them. Umbri sneaked out from beneath the horses, claws grabbing at the struggling animals and their masters in an attempt to carry them off into their dark world.

Odei stood his ground out in the open light of the Shamse Spells, working his magic, his black arua swirling about him, ready for anyone who would face him.

((Ylva))
The creature roared as the hunt began. Her being Umbri, it was effortless to do what she did best-track Obsidian. As the other shadow swooped nearby, Ylve leaped into the air, her claws extended and her mouth wide open, dripping with foam and saliva as she latched onto Obsidian's neck and chest. The two clawed and fought, tearing and digging into the other in the macabra battle. Ylva finally clamped down onto Obsidian's face, holding his now open jaws in her own as she tried to roll him on his side before the trio impacted onto the ground below..

((Penthar))
He had the vial in his teeth as he clung to Ylva's mane, nearly being flung off of her when she leapt. He struggled and climbed, avoiding claws from both creatues as he reached higher onto Ylva. Letting go with one hand, he pulled the stopper from the vial with his teeth, and poured it's contents into Obsidians snarling and pinned open jaws as he recited an ancient incantation. The sudden thud and hard impact of the three of them hitting the ground sent the General flying in a cloud of snow, tree limbs and mud, tumbling for several feet when he hit the ground.
He rolled to his haunches, and crouched, looking at the two dark lumps on the ground. Obsidian got up and roared, while Ylva laid there, breathing heavily. Penthar looked straight at the beast, awaiting the potions affect as he recited the last part of the spell, his own dark aura growing and swirling as he waited for it to take effect...

((Obsidian & Odei))

Almost a century had passed since Obsidian had first been restrained by the guild of shadows, a time when some part of him still remained mortal, but the passing of time and the blackness of the Surdan magic had torn away every remaining part of him, leaving behind very, very few memories and the animalistic Umbri now known as Obsidian… even what few memories that remained were buried so deep into the darkness that there were rarely ever any chances for them to resurface.

However the acrid taste of the clear liquid the human had tossed into his jaws woke those forgotten thoughts and images, reminding him of the day he got captured and how; it was the same spelled liquid, Tarhanan’s Tears*. Obsidian squirmed, twisted, trembled, clawed, hissed and screeched in a violent seizure-like fit, all the while fixating his angry glare on the mortal master of Ylva. At most, the salve should have caused the Umbri to shrink away, its strength weakening as the he was no longer capable of calling to the shadows, until all that remained was a harmless black blob, and a pissed one at that.

But Obsidian’s situation was different: He was already under a binding spell, one that belonged to Odei, and now the two spells within him conflicted for dominance, tearing him apart from within. Despite the lack of control of his form and the searing pain, something that Obsidian had not experienced in decades, the shadow’s shifting, quaking disfigured black heap clawed its way towards the fallen master. Obsidian would die, but not before ripping the mortal’s head off…

--------

Odei felt the burn in his arm, at first he thought he had been struck by a spell or sword… or, judging by the pain, a massive battle axe more likely. He twisted around, swinging out at an attacker who was not there, causing him to lose his balance and fall to the ground, cradling his arm. It was then that the cries of Obsidian sounded in his head, and Odei knew something was not right with the Shadow, an image flickering in his thoughts of faces and a place Odei did not know, for it was not his memory, but Obi’s… the day he had been captured… and Odei then understood what was going on…

Odei looked over to his right, finding a shadow cast by a tree large enough for him to use, and within a few second was on his knees some small distance from his dying Umbri. It took Odei a few seconds to shake off the shock of both: the sudden presence of three Surdans, their Aura’s powerful and imposing, and second was seeing Obsidian. The Umbri had ceased to move, his form now a black silhouette of an emaciated small boy, and would be the closest thing to resemble what Obsidian must have looked like in his past life.

Odei placed a hand on the chest of the small, frail figure and concentrated; breaking his own binding spell… he knew this was a dangerous task, releasing Obsidian without boundaries, but it was either that, or let him perish, for Odei did not know what was the other binding force, nor how to eliminate it. What’s more Odei needed to relieve himself of the pain if he was to continue fighting. Obsidian’s body trembled momentarily, before it curled into a tight, ball, now unconscious. Odei felt the pain fade until all he was left with was a slight throb…

When Obsidian returned, Odei would have to deal with him… but now he had others to tend to. He looked up and spotted another large Umbri… and further still, a Sudao warlock, a Surdan!

“I’ll give you three seconds to call back your men and piss off… anyone stays and you’ll end up looking like this…” Odei pointed to the small figure of Obsidian. “…trust me… it won’t be result of a binding spell.”

*took the liberty of naming it. ‘prisoners’ tears. cancel it out if u don’t like it, pen!

((Penthar))
He watched as the spell did what was intended, including to bring Obsidian's master to his side. Ylva was still lying on the ground, unmoving, except for her huge chest heaving as she struggled to breathe. Penthar needed to get to her soon before she grew worse; but the other warlock had appeared, and released his hold on the other shadow.He needed to deal with the sympathizer first; his companion would have to wait. He stood up, staring straight into Odei's eyes, measuring his aura and his determination; sizing up what the other warlock was capable of.
" Do you really think to walk out of this, if you challenge me boy? Look at your little friend on the ground. I would guess you may be the next one down-or your little band of misfits in that caravan" Penther replied, nodding in the direction of the camp. " Without you and your abilities, they just might be over run" by whomever that idiot commander is and his horsemen, he thought to himself after speaking.
" Still, I must know why one as powerful as you would work with those who seek to wipe out our very existence for the sake of so-called 'goodness and light'. Do you really think the Lumerians overseeing this campaign of genocide will let you and every Umbrovian loyal to their cause live after they have wiped out the Sudao armies? Do you really think this rouse of finding and safeguarding the Auran is that? Do you realize they will use her as a weapon to completely tip the balance of power and wipe out all that which is shadow! If you do, you are either blind or stupid, which boggles the mind to think you achieved your power by dumb luck. But, so be it, if that is your choice" were his final words before he drew his swords and approached Odei.....

The chinks of arrows chipping at ice brought a satisfied smile to Starlyght's face, for the moment that she allowed it, that was. Quickly, she was reinforcing the structure of her own shell, completely the half-sphere to bar any arrows from piercing it. She could only hope that the carriages were well enough reinforced to protect their occupants, since she hadn't been able to fully-enclose all of them. Starlyght's hand on Leyla tightened, her fear for the girl's life her only concern, "Leyla, stay back, stay in the carriage. We'll be alright, I promise." Starlyght's sharp eyes peered easily through the icy coverings, not from normal sight, nor even night-vision, but through her connection with the ice she had made. She could see the group of men charging into the clearing, some already falling at the hands of the guard. If they got too much closer, they would find the surface they walked on extremely.... painful.

Silver yipped once more, alerting Star that a white figure was approaching from above. Starlyght was forced to let go of Leyla's hand for a moment as she reinforced her staff with her right hand. Just as she was in her fighting stance, however, she made out the face of the General, relief flowing through her. His nod of approval only reinforced Star's knowledge that Leyla was her first priority, though it was nice to have help to that effect. With the General watching over their carriage, Star took the moment to turn to Leyla, her right hand again taking the girls, "Leyla, we're under attack, and I think by more than one group. It is very important that you do exactly what I tell you alright? Everyone here is trying to protect you. Right now, I want you to stay hidden in the carriage alright, but we might have to run if the bad men get through. I know you're probably scared for Origin, but she can take care of herself, and right now, all she cares about is keeping you safe as well, alright." She waited for a confirmation the the girl had heard her, but she couldn't keep her back to the battlefield for too long, since everyone second that the enemy drew closer made it more dangerous.

Black eyes centered with silver, Odei regarded the man without expression as he listened to both the downpour of questions and to the sounds beyond, his senses roaming his surroundings for signs of further threats and the other two Surdans, but they were not as close, for now his immediate challenge was this one man, and his Umbri on the ground. He felt a pang of anxiety at the man’s words; were the rest of the regiment alright without his help?

The scarred man laughed inwardly. He was not their guide, a power-figure or their protective god… he was merely an extra ‘precaution’, hardly essential to their well-being. Vasilios would not be as stupid as to hand over such a mission to Odei, and him alone. They would cope fine without him… and besides: who said he wouldn’t be getting back to the camp?

Odei drew his own blue-hilted claymore, and as he did the tribal Sagan markings flickered to life as they danced about his skin, except they were black, not blue, thanks to the darkness within him. It was an ironic contrast: The warrior markings, black against the colors of the yeidin sash he wore.

His voice tchanged as he chanted, a mixture of demonic hiss and human vocals, Odei recited a Surdan rite. “Juneid… udkhali bilthalam. Sakir-llal Sahayne’…” Odei called unto the eighth demon, Juneid the gate keeper, before the other Surdans’ present… it was who ever called unto him first within a battle that the demon responded to. Named ‘gate keeper’, the demon had power over the dark pathways that allowed Umbrovians and creatures to travel back and forth through the darkness… but at Odei’s command, Juneid had now ‘closed’ the doors surrounding them. No one here would now be able to use the shadows for miles as a route of escape, or trickery. Their battle would take place only within this simple world.

““You talk too much…” was odei's simple reply to the man's curiosity. "… now if you don’t mind, I’m a busy man...” Odei charged, the sound of clashing steel echoed through the woods as his claymore slammed down against Penthar’s swords.

Leyla sat quietly in the back of the carriage as she was told, quivering with fear.

----
As the arrows flew from the night sky Olorafien threw up a sheild. How dare they attack, he growled, launching himself from the top of the carriage, his wings shooting from his back and his fangs enlongating in his mouth.

He was uppon the atackers in moments, taking out a slew of foot soldiers with a swipe of his large hand smashing their skulls beneath helmets. The bodies lay in a crumpled heap, attached by the face.

He sunk his teeth into a hellbeast, tearing its throat out with a rip. It roared up and fell back upon it's rider, taking a few others down with him.

All at once another hellbeast fell at his side, and another pair of bat wings flapped near his ears.

"It took you long enough brother." he said awkwardly through his teeth.

"Enough talk." Vasquiri growled, taking the head off of another foot soldier.

Four blades were relieved of their scabbards, and the sound of dying Umbrovians grew louder by the second.

----
Origin screamed and raged against the carriage door. She could hear the blasts of fire and the sound of arrows embedding themselves in the ice. What was going on out there? Was Leyla alright? She was beside herself with worry, screeching and clawing at the door.

There had to be a way to contact the child. Young humans were usualy more open minded to magic. But what of Nemes. That white winged falcon wouldn't approve of the slightest inkling of magic if it came from her.

To hell with him. She closed her eyes and concentrated, sending thought out into the mess of conciences and searching for the tiny light that would be Leyla.

Kath stumbled around in the dark. The noises behind him made him shudder even as he mad ehis way towards the carriages as chaos erupted everywhere. He could count a small part of the troops even as he staggered, clad with the Yeidin colors. Even that left a bad taste in his mouth. Castor, you brave idiot. I only can hope you and the rest of our unit are safe in this mess. It wasn't supposed to be this overwhelming... I think...

A woman with bright hair stepped from a carriage a ways away, obviously talking softly to someone inside. She appeared to have an animal with her, but he couldn't see too much else and the noise of the clash was making his head hurt. Well... it's a person. I'm spying, I guess... I should... make contact? Yes? Good luck to me!

He waved at the woman hoping that she wasn't going to attack him at first sight. "Hey! Are you okay? Did you see the enemy?" Kath kept one hand on the hilt of his sword in case she guessed that he was Sudao even without the colors. If she was a Surdan, she would know, but she looked somewhat odd or at somewhat different than a normal human... even if the strange and rather revealing armor already made her look somewhat odd in his eyes. Is she even cold? He shivered. I am...



Castor was thankful that he didn't lose his throat even as he tumbled down and away from the smoke-like creature. He had forgotten to charm his axe recently to deal with said magical creatures and vowed to never forget now that Penthar's beast and the General himself had granted him this second chance. He felt that he owed the General a drink some time and reminded himself that he did even as he fled to regroup with his own unit, covering Kath's departure.

Grevor however, his dual daggers at ready, would not be one to wait. His dark skin was a shadow in and of itself, his white teeth flashing even as he grinned maliciously at Odei who was busy engaged with Penthar's blade. "Ixtrickit cheingja cursas vout!" A section of ice crackled under Odei's feet. It was a decent attempt at aiding General Penthar.

Histlan stood straight-backed and highly attentive, like an animal surveying its area with ears high and wide. The onslaught she noted seemed detached from the screech a moment before, both came from different directions. She pulled her hood down from her head and then brought her halbert over in front of her and gripped it with both hands, holding it tentively but without a greatly terse grip, ready to maeuver it as needed. As she heard the sounds of the chaos growing. This was what she'd been waiting for, since the day she'd chosen to enlist to help the Yeidin at Ahila. She could feel her heartbeat shift somewhat with the rising feeling in her and the adrenaline that was rising... and with it something else.

She turned her attention very briefly to Hurst and Sachieal. "Shall we?" She said with perhaps too nonchalant of a manner, and hurried forward towarss the bulk of the fray, no longer using the staff's end for guidance but rather being quite agile and nimble with how she moved. She listened closely to the many sounds around her, many loud, but the more silent ones just as important for her to hear and react too. The area was filled and surrounded by dark intentions and she honed in on those without a second thought.

The first man she fell had been separated from his horse but fought on, after a strike to the gut and thena blow to the head, he was once more reunited with the ground, and she then turned her attention from him. Adrenaline rushed into her and the darkness that marked her skin and sat down within her began to rise and coarse through her more actively again. Her thoughts of how this situation so easily arose left her and she no longer wondered or thought, she just reacted.

Leyla yelped in larm at the presence of the new person at the door. She didn't like him at all. His eyes were a scary sort of blue, and his face was not kind at all. Even the big man, Odei had something of a niceness deep in his big dark face. She huddled back into the shadows, barely moving beneath the coverlet she'd cradled under.

She felt a nagging in the back of her mind as she closed her eyes. Something was calling to her, but no one had said anything.

Even as the crash of battle started, Sachieal heard Nemes' orders. "Understood, Sir." Sachieal responded as he flew towards his regiment, feet barely touching the ground. Arrows hailed the ground in droves, and bodies followed soon after.

Sachieal reached the men in doubletime and called to them "We're under attack, protect those who can't fight! Watch their arrows!" Sachieal ran forth with the now battle-ready men and women. His nose caught the scent of fresh blood, and blades of ice the length of an average man's forearm flew forth from Sachieal's wrists. He imbedded the blades to the "hilt" in the nearest attacker. Sachieal removed the blades and pressed his tongue to the shaft of ice, savoring what he could get. He couldn't afford to stay in demonic form for much longer than the battle would last, there was no need to risk his journey thusfar.

As the small party fought forward, however, Sachieal found that he made progress much farther than the others. He made his way alone for a while, rending foe after foe without much need for worry. A light scratch here, a bruise there, but no need to panic.

Sachieal roared with the lust of battle, setting flame to a squat man carrying an axe much too large for his form. Sachieal laughed as he tore the man's withered husk asunder.

It was then that he found himself face to face with the demon he fought on the field before...

I must be seeing double....

((Penther))
The General kept his maniacal grin, rather enjoying the battle of such a worthy opponent. This Odei Baran had had some of the best training, starting with the pirate clan he grew up in, judging from the markings on him.
"And you are impatient" he growled back as he riposted. He swung, deflecting the other's blow from his claymore. Odei saw his opening, and tagged him in the face with the hilt of his claymore, knocking the General back.
Penthar recovered in a defensive posture, spitting blood from his now bleeding mouth as he watched Odei slip and slide on the sheet of ice that formed beneath his feet. "This is my fight! NO INTERFERENCE!" He yelled as he waited for the Surdan to recover his footing. He grinned, his bloody smile looking even more frightening than his companion's growl as he thought of what he was going to do Odei for drawing first blood....

((Ylva))
Her breathing became a little less labored as she lay there. Her master was busy with the other warlock, and could not reach her. Her wounds from Obsidian burned, and she sniffed the air, smelling?....the acrid smell emanated from nearby, where Obsidian had hit the ground. She raised her head, and looked at the now unmoving small black mass near her.
She sensed his pain, and felt....sadness? Compassion? What were these weak, frail, human emotions, not one a shadow would have.
She dragged herself nearer to Obsidian, and sniffed at him. She made a strange cooing sound as she began to remember just who Obsidian once was, and who she had been.Too weak to stay awake, Ylva dropped her head to the ground and closed her eyes.....

Czernian was surprised to see the defenders counter so ardently - as, he noted, were many of his men. He took note of those that fell as best he could, while riding a wide and fast circle around the encampment. The sounds of the horses' hooves pounding against the wintry ground mounted into a dull but thundering roar - only those whose mounts fell fought on foot, as was the way of a guerrilla soldier. The rest rode in a fast circuit close around the encampment but within the protective barriers, sending volley after volley of arrows into the still-milling troops they fought. Their bows were deeply recurved, and the barbed arrows they used could easily punch through unspelled armor.

Their constant movement made any direct combat unfruitful, and those with capability mixed their magic with their weapons - freezing soldiers' feet to the ground, to make them easy targets, swathing the arrows of allies in flame, to catch clothing and tents on fire and increase the chaos. Chaos was what they needed.

Czernian himself fired several volleys, aiming for soft, exposed places that would guarantee a killing count - the bowstring moved easily under his experienced handling, and the shafts of his arrows were hardly in his hand before he left again. After just a few minutes of this (which seemed hours in a battle's time), he grit his teeth in frustration, mouth twisting in anger. Their magicians were making this job far too difficult! Ice practically trapped the carriages, which of course meant they must hold people of some value - though, who could tell? They might be mad Lumerians.

Kovak jerked his horse further from the arrow circuit, so that he could cast under a safer distance. One gloved hand clenched into a fist, and he called forth the fire that until then had been dormant within him - focused it as he would an arrow, hardened it with the steel of his resolve... and with a single, harsh word, the center of the enemy ranks was consumed by a pillar of roaring fire that moved over the ground as if clinging to oil, as if something alive.

He impressed upon his creation a path - towards the carriages, to incinerate the icy protection as well as what lay inside. What was gone, his enemy could not use.

Satisfied, he moved back to fight with his men.

Olorafien was still in his blood lust, a screeching feral creature when he came upon his former adversary. He let out a howl and made for him, but was restrained by his brother.

"No, He is Yeidin," Vasquirii said through his awkward fangs.

Orlorafien shook himself and turned upon another attacker, clawing it to bits in his frustration. Vasquiri nodded at the male angel, and turned to aid his brother as a riderless hellbeast launched itself towards their small party.

Sachieal raised an eyebrow and smirked. A retorting snarl, as loud and feral as he could manage, escaped his lips. There was no mistake, the demon was trying to attack him. I must be insane. I don't honestly see any other explination for seeing not only one enemy, but two... fighting... other enemies. Sachieal quickly impaled a snarling, birdlike fiend through it's midsection, bisecting it at mid-ribcage.

"Demons!" Sachieal snarled their way. "I want an explination when this is over. One of you owes me for this:" Sachieal pointed at his shoulder, where the puncture holes were located.

Sachieal sighed and removed a large portion of a hellbeasts flank. Things make less sense up here then they do down there...

((there is ice surround Star's carriage, you can't just mosey on up to it Kath :-) ))

Starlyght spotted a man moving towards her through the ice, her hand returning to her staff immediately. He called out to her, but Star's eyes only narrowed. She didn't recognize him, not that she had seen and made a detailed account of all the troops, but if he was on their side he should be fighting, not making idle talk. "Return to your post, soldier, this is no time for talk, and no time for retreating." Her voice carried fluidly through the air, lilting with her accent, but still spiked with authority. All the affection that she had shown towards Leyla was gone, all that mattered now was defeating these dark warriors.

Starlyght's attention was drawn away from the stranger, however, when the icy bubble that enclosed them started to melt. Even though it was magiced ice, it was still vulnerable to magic fire. Her eyes immediately snapped to the source of the heat, which was also burning carriages, in addition to melting her protection. Fire mages,eh? Good thing Star was capable of conjuring water in addition to ice. Star's staff connected solidly with the ground, though it was strangely silent. Her eyes, normally icy blue, darkened to reveal a true blue. The watery mess that had resulted from the fire's journey around the camp rose up, forming a twin to the pillar of fire. A deep, raspy voice could be heard emitting from the nymph's body, though her lips didn't seem to be moving, "Luchenaer Acordiani Vase pul, Luchenaer Acordiani Vase pul." The watery pillar swung towards the fire, attempting to overthrow it, just as Starlyght's staff swung in challenge.

Kovak could trust his men to their work - after all, any officer who couldn't at least do that was going to have a short career. He pulled his arm back to place another dark arrow in a helmed man's throat. Czernian's mount was moving too fast for him to linger on the death - besides, there were too many that needed killing.

It was the hiss and billowing of steam that first alerted him that not all was well with his fiery creation. With a scowl, he used the pressure of his knees to guide his horse towards the pillar of fire. The beast, long familiar with the antics of his rider, showed no signs of balking.

The fire had cut a swath through the enemy ranks - and while not many had been charred outright, handfulls had caught afire as it moved. While they would not likely die, they would be useless for the rest of this battle, and likely maimed.

Czernian kept an eye on the water pillar, and made sure to have a tight grip on his bow. He dismounted at a canter as they passed the fire, moving to stand within the blaze. The flames were a welcoming heat, and seemed to burn the brighter for his presence. And while the water hissed and steamed in choking clouds of moisture that burned the eyes, it was simply too large to be easily undone. That, and his task here was to kill as many men as possible - not duel with another magician!

Rather than confront the water, he moved within the fire, using its girth as a barrier to keep others from within a good many yards of his presence, and lowered the flames with a few murmured words, widening the base that was his protection. With upraised hands, he sent the amassed fire around the carriages and away from the pillar, to attack those enemy combatants that remained in fighting form. He could dance arund the enemy magicians all night - without their soldiers, they would fall quickly. The carriages, at that time, would be a moot point.

His attention was consumed by ravaging and burning everything in his path.

((Okay, so I read through the last two and a half pages to try and get my footing once more. Anyone feel free to point out any continuity errors in my post. It’s been a long month, and I’m hoping I can do this right…with some help o’course!))

The sounds, the sights, even the smells of battle were like an unending murmur to Veldrin. Wind that smelled faintly of blood whirred through his robes. A cacophony of screams, battle-cries, and orders filled up his ears…or was that his mind? The half-demon caught sight of the shadow creature, Obsidian, immediately as it took wing, faintly catching the sensations of the creature’s rage and its bloodlust. When Penthar and his feline companion began wrestling with Obsidian, the cambion felt it was now his turn to take action.

Veldrin stepped forward, his bandaged and booted feet pressing into the snow softly, carefully; as if the man was planning a hunt. The brilliant white snow seemed to…darken and brown almost with each step that the leprous cambion made. If anyone had time to focus, they could see how the scant blades of field-grass seemed to wilt and retreat into the snow as Veldrin passed by. He was a walking plague, armed with a sword, knowing all too well of the great timing of it all.

Reeking of contagion, the cambion stepped into the fray, planning on making his way to any important sighting—the ice-sheathed carriage that Kath stood by, Soraya, even Penthar and his little skirmish. Veldrin advanced slowly, aiding his fellow soldier when need be while at the same time treading his own path into the chaos. The cambion was numb to it all—perhaps from the sudden increase in action, or the unrelenting agony of his rotting, diseased flesh. It took him a few too many moments to realize where he has stopped finally.

Veldrin looked back at the pathway he had carved through the snow. Some of it had been yellowed the color of piss and other bodily fluids, other parts were reddened by the blood he had let spill from others. A nice patch of foreign vomit streamed down the cambion’s leg, a result of him letting the exposed parts of his skin get to close to another untainted individual. No matter; it happened all the time.

But it was where Veldrin stood now that brought his attention in full. A few feet away, roiling and roaring with arcane energies, was what looked like a battle between fire and water. The water-conjuring figure, a female, seemed intent upon guarding the small carriage behind her; the one that Kath was focusing on. Bloodshot eyes narrowed, the cambion eyed the water that this stranger seemed so skilled in controlling. If it was one thing the lieutenant was good at contaminating other than people, it was water.

When the realization hit him, an enemy footsoldier came charging towards the cambion. Veldrin side-stepped and caught the frantic enemy by his cloak, yanking him towards his face to stare at the man straight in the eyes. Silent in his work, the half-demon pushed his blade into the man’s chest, feeling warm blood flow over his bandaged hand and soaking the fabric. The cambion threw the dying man to the ground and then sliced his bandaged hand open. Even to himself, Veldrin’s blood smelled sour, foul. With great force, Veldrin knelt down and dug his bleeding hand into the victim’s open stab-wound. He watched his infernal disease do its work, as the dying soldier’s skin began to pale, and then turn a sick yellowing green color.

The cambion then dragged the corpse, letting it settle in a puddle of water that led to the melting ice-dome, and that magical woman. Infected blood began writhing and swirling through the water, further perpetuated by the coming heat of Kovac’s fiery rampage. A foul odor soon emanated from the fluid, dancing along the enemy’s failing ice barrier and taunting all noses and immune systems if they happened to be close enough. At that, Veldrin gripped his sword once again, letting his own blood paint the weapon as he rushed through fighting men to reach Kath. He wasn't one to deal with magical duels directly.