World Tree MUSH

    "So it looks like we have everything we could possibly need." Mau says after going through the fort's supplies. "Plenty of arrows, ballistae, catapult ammunition, swords, armor, food, medical supplies... The only thing we don't have is an army, huh."
    The large fort known as Caerhayes Stronghold was the last bastion of heavy fortifications between the allied lands and the Frozen North where the Demon Lord once called his home.
    It's warm day at least, and it's going to stay warm for the next few days, but that doesn't mean things are going to be bright with an enemy army on the march on their way to the very fort.
    Mau has rounded up a good and fair number of volunteer adventurers, roughly numbering about eight to nine hundred fighters and a hundred and fifty support and healers. The issue is the enemy army supposedly vastly outstrips those numbers, and they're going to just have to hold out until the allied nations of man, elves, dwarves, and demi-humans send their armies.
    Whenever they decide to do that anyway.
    "So I guess we dig in and hunker down now." Mau says, as casual as can be in spite of the UTTERLY OVERWHELMING ODDS on the way to kick her ass.

A day earlier, a fluffy yellow chocobo had trotted up to the castle gates, bearing a nomad on its back and a couple of bloated bags hanging from its saddle. It had been awhile since her last foray into adventure, and Itana does need to make money. She'd set out to do it the best way she knows how: Brewing potions and collecting treasures for resale in more populated areas.

Then the gate opened and someone greeted her.

"This fucking cat," Itana had said.



Today, Itana's still annoyed. A veritable storm cloud seems to gather above the chair she's planted on the fortress ramparts. She's pulled a fur cloak around her shoulders to stave off the unforgiving cold she knows will blow out of the Frozen North to make her days even worse. Glowering out past the fortifications towards what lies beyond, she finds her brain divided between two thoughts.

One half of her brain is calculating odds. How long the food she brought in her saddlebags will hold out. How many arrows she's got at her disposal, and how many she'll need if she's to have a chance of not running out and dying on day three. How many people each person will have to kill for them to get out of this. She draws blank after blank because the enemy's numbers are simply uncountable.

The other half of her brain is replaying a thought.

    . o O ( This fucking cat. This fucking cat. THIS FUCKING CAT. )

 
     A loud bear roar accompanies Mau's seemingly final decision on what's going on. Dulguun is roaming around, but the big bear seems friendly enough. It hasn't bit anyone, yet, and it's even trying to help with efforts of moving some of the heavier equipment around. Dulguun is very much being a good boy. 
     He kind of has to. Suvdaa is sitting nearby, examining each and every arrow. Each. And. Every. One. A small adjustment to the tip to make it fit up to her standards, all while she chews on dried jerky. 
 
     "We'll need to adjust. As they do. They find a weakness, we stop it. They find another, we stop it." Her gaze moves over to the unforgiving Frozen North, much more familiar lands. "And when the weather arrives, we both adjust. Or take advantage."

    Well. Ghost has been busy. The invasion of Al-Mazrah has been a total standstill, clearing out insurgents and hunting them down. Task Force 141 has been assisting coalition forces in this, given the Republic of Adal's precious oil fields and rare earth minerals. Of course, those had to be secured before Al-Asad could get them and use them as leverage against the world.

    But when Mau's message reached Ghost's ears, he was quick to respond. Grabbing as much ammo as he could, a Tac-338, his handy SR-16 rifle, among other things, Ghost arrived to provide inventory and also logistical support. He's been spending the preparations teaching the local soldiers how to plant and arm mines and C4, as well as plotting out trenches, marking sightlines, making sure the killbox is set and ready for unfriendly guests.

    Also, Ghost put cat ears on his helmet. They have a purpose, honest.

    Suvdaa took the words out of this tacticool skellyman's mouth. He nods in agreement. "We can't afford to let 'em get one over on us. Not once."

    "Our numbers are deceptive," Matsu replies to Mau in a simple deadpan. "As long as I'm here, we're a lot harder to kill."

    Young though she may be, the head of Clan Shuzenji has potent healing - and her clan's role in a nation frequently gripped by war means that she has also been given a fair amount of theoretical training in triage and battlefield healing. Couple that with her own experiences looking death in the face, and... well, she's not nearly as scared as a girl her age should be.

    In fact, the instant she arrived, the Phoenix Maiden probably blustered and browbeat her way into heading up the healer corps. She's set up a triage area, laid out basic rules for how the healers will handle things and even given specific instructions regarding her own use. "Anyone who's hurt too badly to safely move them, tell me where they are. If they're not hurt too badly to move, drag them here, period. Even if they're hurt a little more by the process, we can fix it. I can fix it. I'll be in and out."

    And particular instructions have been left with Mau and everyone else following her lead - 'If the enemy attempts to curse us in any way, alert me immediately.'

    She might need a guard to keep an eye on her when she moves to any of the un-movable patients, though.

    Dawn of the first day.

    Illumiel wakens to a summons from a certain catgirl. "Remnants of the Demon Lord's army? We'll see about that." The smallest Avenger rises, grabs her weapon bandolier, and heads out. She doesn't need to worry about Itana, who has been taking jobs and left the day before to somewhere.

    The angel arrives at the meeting place, and spots said nomad in the throng of support people.

    Illumiel bypasses the support group, and mounts to the top of the wall, looking out across the field where the enemy is supposed to be coming from, as if she could see them already. The little girl seems to be out of place, perhaps even moreso than Matsu, but only those who have met her know just how much firepower is contained in the littlest Avenger.

    She remains on the watch post for the rest of the day, never seeming to tire.

    Wars are kind of a concern, right? Huge battles, lots of violence. Indiscriminate collateral damage and all. It's enough to make even someone as disconnected from her humanity as Marceline balk at the thought. It helps, at least, that it's somewhere relatively empty. With mostly just property to break that, at worst, was meant to be all busted up.

    So, there's a vampire hanging out. Somewhere. It might even be the lanky person with the black riot gear helmet with the tinted visor and their feet kicked up onto something that isn't meant to be a footrest.

    Oh neat, looks like they even scored some Nike Mags. Arrayed around her is a couple of parasols, one of the handles actually looking very much like a boney arm. A toolbox, a fire extinguisher, what appears to be a toy gun loaded with green foam balls and a very recognizable bass guitar axe.

    While waiting is on the menu, there will be waiting and lazing. Maybe the occasional musical accompaniment.

    Oh man look at that bear being helpful. Mau gives Dulguun a good ruffling as he passes by as if to say 'who's a good boy? Who's a good boy?!' But then she nods.
    "Yeah. We've got a lot going against us but we'll manage. We have to. I'll leave the finer details in your hands." She says to Suvdaa, knowing she can trust the raider to know how raids work and formulate defenses against them and...
    She can't help but stare at Ghost with his kitty-ear helmet. "I'm not even going to ask, Ghost-man." She laughs, because there's important stuff to do and she doesn't want to get in his way while he's teaching the locals how to plant explosives.
    "Oh Matsu, hey. I'm glad you could make it." Mau says stopping by the phoenx maiden. "I'm putting you in charge of the healers. You tell them how you want triage handled, where you want supplies, who gets what, they'll do it and..."
    Mau pauses, reaching into a pouch at her hip. "These are for you." She says as she hands something to Matsu.
    It's a pair of bright and shining platinum Adventurer's Tags. Much like the pair Mau and Suvdaa now wear, much like the pair Ghost and Illumiel and Itana have. "It's for all your help with the Demon Lord. You can walk into any guild with those and they'll get you anything and any job you could ever want."
    Wars are a huge concern, but with Illumiel an Marceline here, Mau is a bit more at ease.
    "Yo yo yo, Marcy, glad you could make it out, you ready to party?" Mau asks while taking position on the wall to watch...

    The next day...

    "There's a storm approaching!" A watchman calls out at the sight of clouds of dust and dirt getting kicked up on the air...
    "That's no storm. That's a lot of guys." Mau mutters as she calls out. "Okay everyone, battle stations, they're gonna be on us any hour now!"

    Hours later... A curvaceous woman with horns, blond hair in ringlets, and armor as black as night approaches at the head of an army of orcs, goblins, gnolls, trolls, and other unspeakable monsters...
    "Ohhhhhhohohohohohohoho~. What's this? A meager defense against my army? Come now come now... Open the gates, let us by, and we'll spare your lives!" She calls up. Mau blinks, ears twitching as she glances over the battlements.
    "Holy shit, Ereshkigal? Is that you? Wow *you're* the one that took over after I killed the Demon Lord?" Mau says brightly. "This is gonna be fuckin' easy! You're the biggest coward I've ever had to chase down!"
    There's silence as the demon woman bristles.
    "You fucking cat how dare you!" She snaps. "I'll kill every single one of your defenders and--"
    "Oh my god." Mau cuts her off. "You are *literally* *THE* definition of a fucking NPC, because I've heard THAT line before. How about you just disband your army and go home because we all know how this is going to end for you. Badly."
    Ereshkigal, the last remaining member of the Demon Lord's Four Heavenly Kings gawps.
    "... No survivors." She says to her aide. "NO SURVIVORS AND BRING ME THE HEAD OF THAT CAT!" She shrieks.

    It begins.

    It starts when the enemy archers all nock arrows to their longbows, a hail of arrows raining down on the castle. But when that clears, Mau lifts her head again over the ramparts. There are a few injuries from the first volley but Mau rallies the uninjured.
    "Orders?!" A soldier asks Mau as she props a boot on the wall.
    "Archers to the walls, someone man the catapults-- keep them at a distance for now, they're just testing our defenses!" As for direct orders... "Keep alive."

    Dawn of the second day.

    The lookout calls about a coming storm. The Angel peeks out from her little perch nook and agrees. "That is no storm." looking over at Mau, as she hops down, and summons her Authority, and pearl and alabaster wings spread from her back. She draws in a breath, and projects her voice with all the Authority she can muster. "Followers of Evil. Sinners all. This land is peaceful, it's inhabitants kind. Leave us in peace and return to whense thou came. Continue this path and His Divine Wrath shall fall upon thee." this after the enemy General and Mau have their little byplay. Blue eyes burn down at Ereshkigal, daring the Demon woman to face her in battle if she dares.

>> SUMMARY[Illumiel] >> Intimidation on enemy army. Taunt attempt on enemy General.

    "They're tactical, Mau." Ghost says, with the utmost of seriousness. He joins Illumiel up on the watch post with his sniper rifle, occasionally breaking up the watch for a smoke or a latrine stop. He climbs down to use the outhouse, just in case you were wondering. You weirdo.

    Once visitors come, Ghost already has them sighted with the scope of his rifle. He...isn't sure he brought enough ammo for this.

    "Huh." is all Ghost offers as Mau and Ereshkigal trade barbs. Once the attack begins, GHost begins to shoot with surgical precision with his .338 Norma rifle. The gun barks loudly like thunder, blasting skulls open and tearing limbs apart. This is gonna be a looooooong week.

There's a grim thought floating through Itana's mind on and off.

    . o O ( Castiel would not forgive me if I died... or if I let anything befall Illumiel.)




    The very next day....

Arrows clatter against the battlements. It sounds for all the world like someone tapping a million sticks on the wall. Itana closes her eyes, hunkers down in the stone shadow of the ramparts and waits for the volley to pass. There are several arrows in her hand.

She turns her back to the fortifications and touches the tip of one of the arrows. "Angarag," she murmurs as she runs her fingertips along it. She shuffles it aside for the next one. "Angarag." Next one. "Angarag." Next one. "Angarag, Angarag, Angarag...."

The clatter against the walls steadily tapers off. Several arrows bounce across the ramparts alongside her, but the battlement shadow keeps her out of harm's way. After a few heartbeats, Itana flicks her hair back and comes to her feet, arrows tucked into her belt save one. She notches it swiftly, takes a look out over the battlefield and spots what she was aiming for. There's a twang as she lets it fly.

At the height of its arc, Itana's arrow sparks and begins to flicker with a fiery light. Another one is coming after it. Then another. Then another, each aimed a shade of a degree off from the last. One by one, gravity takes them on their course.

Towards the main bulk of the enemy's siege engines.

The first arrow strikes a massive catapult - and explodes instantly. A massive fireball blooms out, lashing across the siege engine. The second one falls towards another catapult and explodes in much the same way. Each arrow is aimed at a particular siege engine, about a dozen shots in all. Each one lands in a massive burst of fire.

With a heavy breath, Itana sinks back into her sheltered spot. With luck, she does so with a significant block of enemy siege engines on fire behind her. At least, that's the plan. She sighs and downs one of her potions in a vain effort to gain some vitality back before the next round of attacks.

"This fucking cat," she mutters again.

>> SUMMARY[Itana el-Zayl] >> Itana machine-guns Angarags at the enemy catapult line.

    "Hm-?" Matsu wasn't expecting a gift, not in the least. If Mau is watching closely, there's just the briefest, faintest crack in her usual neutral expression. "I... I see. Thank you. I shall keep these on hand, should I need them." She is quick to return to her prep for the rest of the day. But keen eyes might notice that, once in a while, the Phoenix Maiden reaches for the pouch where she'd stored the tags, as if to confirm they're still there.

    But the next day comes at last. The triage priority is laid out, the orders are given, and when the army arrives, Matsu is there to watch as well.

    Nothing cracks her poker face at the arrival of the army, not the size, not the huge horde... nothing, that is, until a very distinct laugh echoes up to them. That laugh. The laugh Matsu Shuzenji has heard countless times at court from noblewomen of other clans who think far too highly of themselves. That laugh puts a deep grimace on the tiny healer's face for just a moment. And then, while Mau replies, the white-haired miko is pulling out a slip of paper.

    The instant Ereshkigal turns to her aide, Matsu leans out through a gap in the parapet, flicks her hand, and hurls an ofuda down towards Ereshkigal with uncanny accuracy. In fact, to be very specific, it's aimed at Ereshkigal's blonde hair. And it's infused with both corruption-banshing magic, and... y'know, fire. Just, regular magical fire. It's not very powerful, but Matsu doesn't need it to be. She's just venting frustration.

    After that, she's careful to duck behind cover until the arrows stop. Once they do, she can set about healing.

>> SUMMARY[Matsu Shuzenji] >> I'm setting that blonde ojou bitch's hair on fire. Holy purifying fire. >:| Once the arrows stop Matsu will maybe heal people.

 
     As the new day comes, and the rain of arrows comes, Dulguun... hides. What, he's a bear, he can't have arrows in him! He's taken shelter near the gate against the wall, ready to get into action at a moments notice. Suvdaa is already at the walls as the arrows come raining down. It's once the volley is done and the air is clear that she belts out this war horn and... 
     'BAAAA-ROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!' 
     "ARCHAAAARS!" Suvdaa's voice bellows out from the tops of the walls as she guides them in unison. "... LIGHT!" 
 
     The tips of arrows all catch fire. Cloth, fat, oil, whatever material people have had under Suvdaa's command are given fire arrows, raider style. "We rain pain and fear upon our enemies. Make them hesitate to attack, and you shall have a glorious victory! NOW!! DRAW! AIM!" The sounds of string being pulled back and tension on bows and compound bows alike cover the walls, fires lit. "LOOSE!" 
      All archers fire at once, arrows burning into the skies before falling down in a steel burning rain at Ereshkigal's army. It may also inspire, or weird out people nearby, that Suvdaa just seems to have gone full Frozen Wastes raider on people. She's pulling out some kind of battle hymn as archers reload.

>> SUMMARY[Suvdaa] >> Suvdaa turns back into a Raider. Archers rain fire arrows.

    Daylight Marcy is energy saving Marcy. Probably not a great deal of red nonblood things to consume, so she's being good and being chill. To Mau, she responds by lifting a gloved hand and waggling a shaka sign. "Are your buds from the bad dude's crew ready?"

    The next day it seems that in some ways they are in fact ready. In the ways that matter, they are not. Mau playing some noisy demon chick's emotions like a shoestring ukelele gets her to snort out a laugh and she even peeks over the wall top.

    "So many greenboys. That already smells so bad and it's only gonna get worse. Oh, wait. Hey, Ghost. Where's Ghost hiding? You spooky butt, hey!"

    Disregarding the army, the arrows and the screeching ditz down and her rank armpit of an army, she scoops up the black plated 'toy' gun and zips around until she spots her target. She gives snipe-bro's helmet a light tap and then proffers the weapon. "I took this knowing I don't know how to use it any more than I know how to sit with a sideways butt. Just noob tube it into the big clumps of those dingdongs and uh. Don't point it at your face. Mask. Eh, whatever here."

    Then she's off, diving down onto the army to scoop someone up. Some halpless green weenie. "Hey, archer dudes! This one! Right here!" To make more of a spectacle of it, she swings the orc-goblin-whatever she's got around as if trying to provide a more difficult target. For who? Anyone can shoot this one free! The invaders, the defenders. She won't judge.

    There's a moment. A beat of stone silence as Mau watches Matsu fling her ofuda, and the paper slip strikes true. The thing is... As a demon...
    Ereshkigal is susceptible to corruption banishing magic.
    There's a *shriek* that follows and an "OH MY GOD IT'S IN MY HAIR!" as the blonde flails and tries to put out her flaming curls, and this earns some pretty riotous laughter from the defenders before everyone ducks and covers from the arrow volley.
    But then it's a back and forth game.
    Because Itana peeks up from her hiding space and unleashes hell on the siege engines. Mau whistles appreciatively as arrow after arrow hits a catapult or an enemy ballista or a rolling ladder tower and they just explode like tinder and matchsticks.
    Then Suvdaa's archers rain fire down- literally as the raider's instructions are heeded and blazing arrows RIP into the enemy archer columns, taking down orcs and gnolls in droves amid the loud report and bark of Ghost's rifle making heads pop. He'll have no shortage of targets, it's a enemy rich environment.
    IT's once she's gotten her hair put out that Ereshkigal is beset upon by an Angel. Though she draws her scythe and scowls ready for a fight, several of her command squad surge forward to meet Illumiel.
    What they do not expect is the sheer wave of BATTLE PRESSURE the little angel puts out just by existing and the soldiers that were ready to die for their leader just a moment a go slow down and start to back up defensively while Ereshkigal herself... Quits the battlefield, taking to the back of her ranks like a coward. That and panicking archers suddenly have Marceline in their face flailing one of their number at them causing them to break cohesion at her sheet brazen menace. This back and forth by play lasts for a day... Because...

    THE NEXT DAY AND NIGHT:

    "Okay we lost some people along the way but between Matsu and the healers doing thing the injured are back on their feet and in fighting condition." Mau goes over some numbers hastily while catapults slam the rocky wall of the fort, trying to find a weak point in a wall that's lasted for hundreds of years.
    "Anyway they're probably gonna roll up some ladder towers and try to climb any hour now so I want double our forces on the ramparts."
    True to Mau's assessment, orcs come rolling up in towers meant to scale the walls, and some guys are even just flat out carrying tall ladders to try and get on up there.
    Mau kicks a ladder over, sending about ten orcs scream-falling to their death before an arrow whips by her head and cuts her across the cheek.
    "Ohfuck!" The catgirl squeals as she topples back and lands on her ass on the rampart.

    With her regenerative abilities, Matsu has... well, not infinite stamina, but constantly-recovering. She's probably exhausted after every short sprint, but by the time she's done her healing, she's recovered enough to sprint again. And that's the Phoenix Maiden's life for the next several hours. She's back and forth between the walls and the triage station, helping where the healer corps needs it, keeping soldiers on the wall where she can.

    It's that which ensures she's there at exactly the moment when Mau takes a grazing hit. Jogging by, the tiny shrine maiden comes to a stop, giving the cut a brief look. "You've endured far worse." There's a flick of the hand, a brush of healing flames along the feline heroine's cheek. "Find me if you start noticing signs of poison." And, just like that, she's off again.

>> SUMMARY[Itana el-Zayl] >> Itana and a couple of conscripts dump boiling oil down a siege tower and set it on fire.

One day passes into the next. Itana manages to get some sleep. She's used to doing so in spurts. The desert is harsh and dangerous. Apparently it translates somewhat to being in an active war zone.

Ladder towers come trundling up to the wall. One of them slams into the battlements. Arrows from the defenders clatter against it. A few archers up to fire back.

"Ready?" Itana asks with a glance back over her shoulder, just inside the gate of one of the towers.

"Ready!" two young soldiers chirp back. VERY young soldiers. Young men with the first few beard hairs peeking out, girt in ill-fitting helmets. Boys mustered hastily to defend this place.

Itana closes her eyes a moment, then opens them again with a faint smile, doing her best to channel Castiel. "...It will be alright. I'm here for you."

Before anyone in the group can digest that, the tower ramp begins to creak open. "Go!" Itana shouts as she rushes through the tower door, the two men behind her. She's got her bow in hand. The young soldiers are carrying an enormous black cauldron between them. A heat haze wafts from it.

A roaring orc leads the charge out of the tower. "Sanchir!" Itana barks as she pumps an arrow into him at the speed of sound. The boom of it rattles the tower and throws the orc back into his fellows like a ball into bowling pins. Orcs go tumbling down the tower into more orcs. Those on the ladder are knocked loose into a heap at the bottom. Itana whips her head back to the two youths. "Now, do it!" she shouts.

Gamely, the young soldiers drag the cauldron up the ramp - and the angry orcish bellowing inside suddenly turns to squeals and shrieks as the two boys dump the cauldron-load of boiling oil down the gullet of the siege tower. Itana stands by and watches until the two soldiers are clear.

She strikes a match, steps up to the ramp, and tosses it into the tower.

"And that is how chimneys are made," Itana explains as she ushers the two young men back to safety, the tower hopefully beginning to turn into an incinerator behind her.

    Illumiel doesn't even need to draw her Actual Sword to deal with these fodder. She beats the first in with a fire poker, lifts their corpse, and proceeds to chase them with the dead body of their former comrade...

    That is, until she's forced to quit the field herself, the rain of arrows becoming too much, and a few lodging into her wings as she peels away and returns to the ramparts. She snaps arrows to remove them from her wings, then furls them up, causing them to de-manifest.

    And now they're bringing in the siege towers.

    Illumiel took some rest for a couple of hours, letting her wounds heal naturally so as not to put more pressure on the healers who have mortals to triage. The angel returns to the ramparts, drawing a crowbar and a length of metal pipe, dual wielding as she strides toward the looming vista of a siege tower. As it drops its door to unload the greenskins within, Lumi casually steps onto the platform, and begins turning the tower, into a funerary spire. One orc tries to bolt, but gets grabbed by the scruff and hauled back in. Another leaps through the side of the tower box, emitting a Distinct Scream as he falls... and yet more are launched out of the wooden contraption as they desperately attempt to flee from the tiny blonde warrior. "COME SINNERS. COME YE FECKLESS AND LOST. I AM THY END. HIS WRATH MADE MANIFEST. COME AND BE SLAIN BY HIS RIGHTEOUS RIGHT HAND!"

>> SUMMARY[Illumiel] >> Previous day: You ever been so righeously furious you beat a bunch of MFers with another MFer? Today: I STILL HAVE PLENTY OF WRATH TO GO AROUND!

 
     "Leave a way up for them!" Suvdaa's command catches some of the arches off guard. There's a clear bit of confusion. "Always give your enemy -one- passage. Then plan around it." Suvdaa glances over just as the cat girl squeals and falls on her ass. At least Suvdaa noticed it was just a narrow whizzing by her head. She's fine. Concerned? A little. But Mau's fine. "Dumb Cat..." 
 
     At Suvdaa's request, one tower is left alone to get to the wall. As it touches down as orcs gnolls and baddies are about to enter, there's just a roar. A grizzly bear's roar. For just a moment, there's some hesitation, which is enough for Suvdaa's arrows to pierce a device that would normally raise the ramp back up. The ramp's now stuck down, and Suvdaa just looks at the small force. 
 
     "Dulguun?" 
     The bear responds with this heavy grunt. 
     "... Dinner." 
     The bear lets out this angry and -hungry- growl as it charges into the thing, knocking aside armies for nearby allies to cut them down, all while the bear begins to enjoy an open buffet of exotic meat. 
 
     Suvdaa turns her attention now to the wall's defense, watching one of the siege towers go up in smoke. "Good." She asides, as she makes her rounds and begins to look for more to attack. "We'll need a fire if the cold begins to shift."

>> SUMMARY[Suvdaa] >> Dulguun gets an all you can eat deal. And he'll eat it all.

    Marceline is the vampire that mostly comes out at night. Mostly. She was a pain in the ass bully in the daylight, only shying away or shielding herself from arrow fire to spare her wardrobe. Seriously, the sun gets in the bullet, er, arrow nicks and burns like crazy. It sucks!

    When the night begins during the assault, Marcy stealths her way in. Careful of the towers nearest the wall; she's resistant to fire, not immune afterall. She bites and claws her way about, hitting and running and targeting shot callers. Bully types. Drummers, motivators or coordinators. She's only one entity though and she can only do so much!

    She however, doesn't bite to feed. She does, however, leave the occasional soulless husk wheezing and withering amongst the invaders.

    Eventually, she picks someone back on the wall. She doesn't care who it is, be it NPC or one of the Big Presence friendlies. She droops, not minding at all that she's kind of a target. "Anyone got somethin red? I'm kinda low on stores and I'm down to pencil erasers. It sucks!" She pointedly tries to ignore the bear and its funtimes. Like, blood and guts are the last thing she should be thinking about when it's almost hangry-o'-clock.

    The 141 operator has been watching from above while the chaos unfolds. He observes Matsu taking a shot with the ofuda, suddenly flinging it across the battlefield like a deadly mortar round. It manages to nail Ereshkigal right on the head, and to Ghost's surprise it catches fire.

    In hindsight, not much of a surprise from the Molotov Cockatiel. "Bloody fucking hell." He mutters under his breath.

    WHen he's in the middle of sniping, Marceline shows up with a neat new toy. He recognizes it some kind of scrap-iron grenade launcher, handmade by the horde's forges or something. "How'd you-" He doesnt' finish that sentence. More important things are at stake.

    Ghost takes aim with the grenade launcher as he sights down The horde as they mount ladders to the edge of the wall. At least until he fires at one group of orcs and blows them to kingdom come.

    Meanwhile, those mines are going off and turning orc formations into dirty salsa.

    It's that time when a flaming rock strikes Ghost's perch, knocking him free and sending him falling to the ground bellow. He doesn't even have time to curse, as he plummets and hits the fortress walls, landing on an orc and plunging his knife into the piggish brute's neck over and over until he bleeds out. Then he uses both pistol and knife to fight his way towards another of the ladders, kicking it down before he swaps back to his rifle again, bracing the gun on the battlement and getting back to sniping.

    Matsu gets a thumbs up when the cut on Mau's cheek is burned away and neatly healed. "I've got antidote potions, try not to burn yourself out." She says to the Phoenix Maiden as she picks herself back up and throws herself back into the fight.
    Just as Itana explains to two young men how chimneys work.
    With a very hands on display of burning.
    There is some confusion as the raider says to leave at least one way up for the enemy, but then the reasoning becomes very apparent why, when Dulguun is treated to an all you can eat buffet of orc meat and goblin.
    "I'm okay!" Mau does call back to Suvdaa when she's called a Dumb Cat.
    Because there are more pressing things at hand as Marcy just fucking offs anyone that looks important and Illumiel shows the enemy army the wrath of heaven itself.
    "--Someone drop a rope for Ghost!" Mau snaps as the 141 operator goes down and starts fighting his way back up to the battlements.

    Two nights later...

    "Illumiel have you gotten any sleep? Mau asks, concerned. "It's like all I see of you is 'angry goose murder machine' out there, take a breather if you have to."
    That's when Mau looks over the battlements...
    "Uh."
    ...
    "Marcy is that red enough for you?" She asks as a soldier nearby shouts in panic.
    "DRAGONNNNNNNNN!!!"
    A great red, winged, dragon swoops out of the sky and snatches a man up before casually dropping him to the army below, screaming. It draws a breath...
    "EVERYONE GET DOWN!" Mau shouts as she leaps off the ramparts and several more men are absolutely incinerated.
    This is where problems compound. It's as the dragon swoops overhead that there's a pounding at the walls.
    And a section of wall explodes inwards.
    "We've been breached!" A man calls as a giant troll uses a stone column to batter the hole it just made in the wall all the bigger.
    Mau is there in an instant with several more elite fighters and spearmen to work on plugging the hole as goblins pour through with rusty and poisoned weapons, but they're going to need some help while the enemy pour on arrow volleys at the ramparts all over again at the same time.

Nights come and go. Itana is beginning to run low on arrows. What's worse, the archers are front and centre in the fighting, and she's taken a few grazing hits. The likes of Matsu have been able to patch her up, but as the battle grinds on, it's becoming clear that they're not going to win this thing in an archery duel.

By chance, she's with a small group coming back from inside the keep when the dragon goes screaming past. She dives for cover alongside a squat dwarf in heavy mail, coming up just in time to see the last thing she wants to see. The wall bursting and fighters beginning to pour into the fort.

One of the goblins immediately goes down with an arrow between his eyes. Itana snaps another arrow off, but the goblins are coming too quickly. The dwarf goes roaring past her, brandishing a battleaxe and smashing a couple of goblins in short order.

"Be careful!" Itana snaps as she shoulders her bow and picks up her backup weapon. She'd claimed a spear from the armoury. Butt planted against the ground, she vaults over the dwarf, flips in the air and comes down legs-first on an orc's shoulders, then twists back, snapping his neck as she flips him to the ground.

The dwarf whirls around as another goblin collapses, grinning behind a huge shaggy beard. "Ha-ha!" he roars enthusiastically. "What say we make a challenge of it, newcomer?! Think ye can keep up?"

Itana lowers her eyelids slightly. "Do I look like a leggy lass to you?"

She promptly turns and spin-kicks a goblin's face in.

"Actually," says the dwarf.

"Four to three," Itana responds.

>> SUMMARY[Itana el-Zayl] >> :b:IMLI SON OF :b:ROIN makes an appearance. Itana is a leggy lass.

    Matsu Shuzenji is not so brash as to say 'no one will die'. But she does her damndest, and for a while, nobody does.

    But when a dragon hauls a man off the battlements and drops him into the enemy horde, there's nothing she can do. The furious grimace on her face tells how happy she is about that. But she swallows back her bitterness and keeps moving. Keeps healing. There's nothing she can do against a dragon, nor against the wall being breached. But, if nothing else, she can sling a fire spell or two - especially at the troll. Trolls tend not to like fire.

    It was the nights later when Suvdaa was tending to her bear in the midst of the battle when she hears it. 'Dragon.' 
    She looks up and Dulguun looks back at her before she nods. She's about to bark a command when a section of the wall explodes inwards. Without missing a beat, she just directs her bear to the wall with her bow. "EAT!" 
     Dulguun lets out a roar and goes to help with the troll problem. In the panic, Suvdaa grabs onto a crew manning a ballista, and starts directing them. "The wind comes from the west, we aim here!" With some effort, the team redirects the ballista, props it upwards, and Suvdaa scouts with her eyes as she waits for the dragoon to swoop overhead in just the right direction. "Hold." .... "Hoooold." ... "Loose!" 
 
     The ballista jerks as it sends a huge spear flying into the air, right into the dragon's swooping path. If anything, it'll at least throw the beast completely off balance and maybe even crash it. Or... get it ready for something worse.

    "I am of Divine make. I do not require the same rest as thee." replies Illumiel, tossing the bent pipe away, and drawing her Actual Sword to sharpen it for a few moments. "It is my purpose to shine brightly, burn brilliantly, and then extinguish quietly, so that His love may fill the void that His Wrath hast caused." she adds.

    This pattern continues, Illumiel stealing new weapons as hers break, coming up with a wicked, but crude scimitar, and a short spear.

    The dragon swoops, incinerates a whole bunch of allies, and then the wall is breached. "Ye though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death. I shall fear no darkness; for thou art with me." she begins praying, striding after the elites as they tangle with the troll, and the lesser soldiers that follow it. "Thy staff and thine rod, they comfort me. Grant me O Father above a measure of thy Divine Flame. A Blessed Blaze to Light this Darkness."

    Her weapons seethe, their dark-spawned craft recoiling as they're wreathed in pearl flames. "FEAR NO DARKNESS. FOR HIS LIGHT PIERCES TRUE!"

    Illumiel's cry is followed by her leaping at the Troll, sinking her Spear into one of its eyes, while using her momentum to force it back through the breach and into the massing swell of orcs, gnolls and goblins trying to force their way inside. "I AM YOUR END. YOUR UNMAKING MADE FLESH. COME FACE ME IF YOU DARE!" she snarls, leaping off the Troll, and wading into the mass of bodies. Her weapons flashing as she carves a swath.

>> SUMMARY[Suvdaa] >> Dulguun is still hungry. Dragon is tenderized?

>> SUMMARY[Illumiel] >> Honk honk. Am still goose. Also something something purpose. Something burning.

    Marcy has been taking it easier and easier. She knows her limits! The less red around, the less energy she can spare for crazy vampire shenanigans. A little soul sipping on the side can keep her sane but she's looking a bit rough. Her hair's a mess, her clothes are caked with grime and blood. Those were pretty dope shoes until, well. Everything so far.

    Then, a beacon! A dragon's not something she's really bothered by. Ooo has that shit. They're either problems or they're dead, usually. "Dibs on the lizard with the rank breath!" She musters up the energy she has left and she's off like a shot, kicking up a column of dust as she streaks off with a thunderous boom. She notes the ballista bolt and adjusts her path! She swings around, waits for the bolt to split the beasts attention; an eternity at this eye-watering speed but then she dives.

    As her dive continues she enlarges, changes shape, her flesh darkens and the air is split with a multi-voiced scream-roar!

    What befalls the dragon as the mass of dark tentacles, mouths and fangs impacts it at speed is probably best left unsaid. It is, however, mechanically violent, with a shockwave, lots of dust and maybe a few tumbling pieces of dragon sent in a few directions.

>> SUMMARY[Marceline] >> Sorry not sorry. R Rated violence ensues.

    The bullets are running low. He can only shoot so many rounds before he's finally out. And he does in fact run out, chucking his Glock at the nearest orc while he lunges at the bastard and plunges a swiped knife into his neck. Aint' gonna waste his own combat knife, no siree.

    The operator uses the remains of his grenade launcher like a club as he fights his way towards his dropped sidearm, grabbing it and slapping a new magazine in.

    Ghost rushes a group of goblins, firing at one before he can shank Itana's leg. "Still only counts as one!" He calls out at the archer before he grabs his L403A1. Last mag, Simon. make it count. ANd he does, firing single-shots at the horde as they draw closer, before finally the magazine runs empty and he's reduced to swiping the gun at orcs and goblins and other beasties like a club until it breaks in half, forcing him to empty the Glock's magazine at more of the ugly green bastards until he's reduced to just his combat knife and bare hands, breaking limbs and splitting throats and veins in brutal hand-to-hand combat.

    The goblins pour in- and they are met with a HUGE FUCKING BEAR.
    Just seeing Dulguun breaks the greenskin morale and they turn to run only to be mauled by bear, arrow, dawrf, and blade. But the goblins aren't the only problems to pour through the wall as orcs make up the second wave and that troll is poking his head in with a low growl.
    Only to be pelted in the face with Matsu's fire. With a screech the gigantic lummox yanks his head back as Illumiel stabs it in the eye with her spear, it flails its stone column weapon, slamming the wall again and causing more ancient stonework to fall away and...
    Seal the breach.
    "AWESOME." Mau shouts as the troll collapses, the spear through its eye poking it fatally in its very small brain.
    All that's left is to clean up the orcs and that's not hard.
    And then...
    There's a riotous cry of triumph as the ballista shot staggers the dragon in the air-- and then there are cries of horror and dismay as Marceline FEASTS on it. It's... It's uh...
    Wow that is a display.

    Another few days pass...

    "I'm not sure how much longer I can keep this up..." A young elf huffs as he leans on his blade.
    "Aye, it's lookin bad, but did you notice?" The human man at his side says. "Morale's still high." He points out. "They might outnumber us in quantity but we've got four Platinum rank adventurers doing the heavy hitting."
    "Four? You mean five right? I saw the catgirl give a set of dogtags to the lead healer a few days back." The elf points out.
    "Haaaah did she? Well that's all the more reason to look up on things."
    Mau, herself, is looking ragged, her hair's a mess, her armor is dented, she's eaten a few wounds that Matsu has likely had to grouse at her about and she's propped against a wall panting.
    "Fuck me, this is dragging on." She mutters to herself before standing straight.
    There have been several more wall breaches in the last day and with an explosion of stonework another big troll opens up a path for a squad of black armored elite orcs to bust in!
    Ghost is likely out of ammo by this point and Mau doesn't even thing twice.
    "HEY SPOOKY, CATCH!"
    She hurls her secondary blade, a mithril longsword, end over end and it embeds itself in the ground at Ghost's feet before Mau hops down to fight back to back with a lowly porcelain ranked adventurer.
    This is when there's a cry from the back of the fort.
    "A rider! We've spotted a rider!"
    "WELL LET HIM IN!" Mau calls back in reply as the lone horseman pushes his steed through the opened back gates.
    "The allied nations armies march." He announces. "They'll arrive within the day, just hold the fort until then!"
    This... This results in a morale raising cheer around the fort while the enemy army pounds the walls with trolls and mammoth like creatures.

Days pass. Orcs and goblins die. The defenders are flagging.

"I'm going to need more fingers," a particular dwarf brags. "I'm beginning to lose count! Newcomer, do you think you can--"

The dwarf pauses. "Newcomer?"

Itana el-Zayl is nowhere to be found. If she was killed in the melee, no one has seen it happen, and no body has been found. Torn apart? Carried off?

Something else? She's not the only one missing - so is the chocobo she'd stabled to the rear of the fort.

>> SUMMARY[Itana el-Zayl] >> Itana is nowhere to be found.

    Ghost, having ditched his mask days before, has finally had his face be visible in the light of Battle. His face is painted up with black and white, resembling his mask. His eyes are still like daggers, glaring with a piercing stare, sometimes wide with rage as he plunges a blade in an orc's eye socket.

    He's going out fighting if he dies here, the only regret is that he won't have Soap and the boys with him. They would've loved this. God knows, SOap would be screaming with a claymore in hands. The sword, not the landmine.

    It's only when he's about to get speared that Ghost notices a sword hurled his way. It's not intended to hurt him. It's his last option. He grabs the sword out of the ground and Ghost begins to thrust and cut with it as though he was raised with a sword in hand.

    Every technique he's seen in old documentaries and textbooks, every single trick he can think of with a sword, Ghost adapts quick and puts them to use. He grabs the blade halfway with his free hand and jabs it into a warg's neck, severing its head as he wrenches it up and down like he was carving turkey. Then he takes a goblin's legs off before he decapitates the little green bastard.

    He has to admit, Ghost loves this sword.

    As the breach is sealed behind her, Illumiel finishes a swath of death, and leaps back up onto the wall, pointing her scimitar toward where Ereshkigal can be seen lurking at the far back of the army. 'I see you.'

    Days pass. And Illumiel doesn't look any worse, but she moves just a little slower, her stance is a bit more heavy, her moves in battle just that little more sluggish.

    As another breach is made, she throws herself once more into the fight, charging to the very front to take the brunt of the damage, weakening the Orcs and Gnolls nearby to ease the burden on the flagging mortals.

    As the Troll lifts its great club to bring it down atop her, she braces, crossing her stolen blades to take the hit... and holds it there, her blades kicking off sparks. Her feet crack the flagstones as she deadlocks with the troll. "ARCHERS! LOOSE!" she cries, gritting her teeth against the sheer brute force.

    She then hears a rider, and the promise of reinforcements arriving soon.

    Hold the line. Just hold the line.

>> SUMMARY[Illumiel] >> Even the Divine begin to flag under the sheer weight of such an assault. But even so, she will Stop That Blade.

 
Dulguun is full. There's one thing about a hungry bear, but it's another thing to have an -annoyed- bear. The big furry thing growls and roars as Suvdaa comes along side. She whistles sharply, as if giving the bear the command to 'go play' rather than eat. The cry for 'Archers' catches Suvdaa's ears, and she snaps her gaze to Illumiel. Again that horn is pulled out, and with a mighty 'BAAAAA-ROOOOOM', she directs. 
     "AIM! WESTERN WALLLLL, LOOSE!" 
 
Her directing archers catches some attention. 
 
As Suvdaa is about to get into the fray of things, a black armored elite orc busts in and begins to make his way over. It's over, there's no way Suvdaa can draw her arrow in time to let it loose on this thing. He's too close, he's already hefting that axe, and -- 
     Suvdaa just jams the arrow forwards into the thing's arm, throwing off its aim to instead hit the ground. She grips onto him, sweeps that leg out from behind and hops right up onto the things shoulders as it goes down. Arms on the ground, legs tight around the thing's head, she just -twists- her lower body until she hears this satisfying and crunchy neck *snap* before she lifts up, drawing her bow and getting onto the fray once more.

>> SUMMARY[Suvdaa] >> Trust me, you don't want to wish you were him.

    The dragon's aftermath looks like an extra juicy plane crash. It's not good. Good for the defenders that the dragon's out of the fight. Not great to look at. Anyway.

    Marceline, now back to some semblance of humanity, has changed clothes, stolen away to clean up the worst of the crud from the dragon. She's back to chilling, saving energy and waiting for something serious to go down. The goblins and trolls and the like could use more attention but she's being awful and letting people that sweat. Y'know. Sweat.

    So, musical accompaniment it is! Something upbeat from her bass. At least, as upbeat as a hellishly enchanted bass axe is gonna get without vocals.

    So, she'll be here, under a parasol until it gets dark and it's time to come in clutch. Yes, she's a fickle thing. She also may be just a touch sullen from the looks she probably got Post Dragon. Seriously though, the bleached white mess is just a few hundred yards that way and even the orcs aren't touching it.

    Overall during the siege, it's rare to see the Phoenix maiden at the walls, with most of her time spent helping the triage area or healing those injured during a breach. But she does show her face there once in a while, and she's there when the allied outrider arrives, tending to a soldier's grievous arrow wound. She looks up as she works, listening with slightly narrowed eyes... only for just a little of the tension in her face to ease away. "Nearly here. Good."

    Though her extravagant shrine maiden's robes are dirty, a bit tattered, she rises with no lack of energy. Over the length of the siege, she has never stopped, never rested, she has worked tirelessly to make sure every person here can fight without concern for injury. And even after all that, it's only now that the white-haired girl gives a simple proclamation from the walls.

    "Nobody else dies. Fight with everything you have. We're nearly done, and I'm not letting anyone else fall today."

    And, swiftly, the Shuzenji clan's head descends a ladder, but only to place herself where she can easily respond to another breach. That leaves her in just the right place to see when a lumbering demon - an actual hellspawn, an infernal being - comes lumbering in. Without skipping a beat, Matsu Shuzenji, tiny girl that she is, marches straight towards the towering devil. The demon rumbles with amusement. "Tiny little priestess, you have some bravery to approach me with no fear. But to make such a fool's decision at the end of this siege-"

    "I have a lot of frustration to work out," Matsu cuts across. "I've been awake for days. I'm not sure how many. Doing nothing but healing people. Chewing people out for being idiots. Listening to the sounds of battle. Barking orders at other healers. I haven't had a bath or a night's rest in I have no idea how long. I'm in no mood for whatever egotistical rant you're winding up. So I'm going to banish you now."

    Without skipping a beat, Matsu Shuzenji lifts up an ofuda, letting it lift from between her fingers and start to float. She begins chanting, murmuring, and the divine flames of Suzaku surge into the talisman. It takes her only a moment, until she declares a forceful, "AKRUYO TAISAN!!" and unleashes the spell of banishment upon the devil.

    There is... not much left but a ring of scorched dirt afterward.

    Calmly, the tiny healer begins hoofing her way back to the triage center. Though it's entirely possible that she may stop, just for a moment or two, to listen to Marceline's music.

>> SUMMARY[Matsu Shuzenji] >> Telling people to cut loose, she's not letting anyone die. Then telling a demon to sod off. Forcefully.

    Where has Itana gone? It's a mystery- a question for the ages and for her new Dwarf friend to figure out, because the battle is still raging.
    The heroes just need to hold the line. One more day.
    One more day...
    As soon as Illumiel calls for archer support and Suvdaa points the archers that way the troll is absolutely pin-cushioned in flaming arrows.
    But even Mau is flagging as she tears into the elite orcs and...
    Suvdaa downs one.
    Mau has to pause because that takedown uh.
    "... Goddamn." The catgirl mutters as she leans tilting to one side briefly, eyes wide and jaw slack.
    But when an orc tries to take her head off, Mau is back into the riot of fighting, and soon enough she's back to back with Ghost, her holy blade and his new mithril sword cutting down a swathe of foes to the lovely musical backing that Marceline is providing.
    It is as Matsu says.
    No one else is dying from here on out; with morale as high as it's going to get, even the lowliest porcelain ranked adventurers and conscripts are fighting with a ferocicy, vigor, and fervor that makes the orcs look like goblins and the goblins look like tiny frightened whelps.
    When the monstrous hellspawn comes through the breach there's a momentary panic until Matsu puts herself in its path.
    "Oh shit, demon-- MATSU--!" Mau says.
    Then Matsu handles the problem. With fire.
    "Yeah that's... Okay I'm not worried anymore."
    Problem solved.
    "Just hold out everyone... Just a little longer...!"
    Long enough for...

...for a sudden commotion on a hillside to the rear of the invading army. A jingle of spurs and a rustle of yellow feathers, and a sharp 'WARK.'

From astride her chocobo, Itana looks down at the fort, and at the invading force below. She rests the long spear she's carrying over one shoulder as she takes stock of the situation. Things look perilous - but not lost. "Caerhayes gives way," she says gravely. "That fucking cat stands alone."

Hooves dash the rocks as a sturdy dwarf in massive platemail draws up alongside her, riding an enormous warhorse. "You don't trash talk that catgirl, lass," he chides. "I remember her as a wee snip! Besides, didn't you say there are at least four other platinum-level adventurers with her? Including a literal angel?"

Itana clicks her tongue. "You're no fun, Thrain."

General Thrain of Middleston grunts at her before gathering a large warhorn and blowing a long, sharp, ringing blow. It resounds across the hills; it rings across the battered walls of Caerhayes, steely, penetrating, clear.

And with a flurry of horse hooves and a clatter of steel, an entire army crests the rise behind the pair. Humans, elves, demihumans, beastfolk, banners fluttering in the breeze, steel aglitter in the morning sun.

    [ BGM SHIFT: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oysPnmUnYFw ]

Itana unshoulders her spear and gestures towards the fort. "To arms!" she shouts - and as Thrain blows the horn once more, the combined armies roar as one and begin to descend onto the invading horde like an avalanche of hooves and blades. The thunder of their charge causes the very fortress to shake.

Positioned as they are to besiege a fixed position, the orcs can only turn in shock at the sight of the armoured fist of nations plunging into them. Itana rides at the head of it all, and with a roar, drives her spear into an orc like a lance - the first blow of a crashing charge that thunders through the battlefield like an immense gong has been struck. Men, elves and beastmen plough over the rear ranks of the invaders like a thresher amidst the sheaves. Bodies crumple and shatter, orcs and goblins simply breaking before the wave.

Itana's spear snaps off after a couple of orcs down. She switches to her bow, reversing in her saddle and darting through the havoc to pelt orcs as she goes. Orc after orc falls as she powers her way through the throng, storming even ahead of Thrain and the rest of the army.

She'd made it out under the cover of night days prior and rode her chocobo halfway into the ground to find the armies and guide them through the enemy's network of scouts and pickets without alerting them. The surprise of their approach - and the unpreparedness of the foe for their charge - was borne of her scouting. But it leaves her with a burning question.

    /Is my angel okay...?/

>> SUMMARY[Itana el-Zayl] >> RIDE FOR RUIN AND THE RED DAWN

    The Troll is pincushioned.

    The Angel shoves, and sends the carcass crashing back onto its companions.

    Then...

    SHLRK.

    An Elite Orc gets a lucky strike in, its blade piercing through the Angel. Blue eyes stare, seeing the movement of the arriving army cresting the ridge, and she turns, beheading her assailant with a quick twist. The angel staggers, drops her weapons, then falls to her knees. "The riders... are coming..." she says, before falling forwards, and laying face down amongst the fallen.

    Literally nobody is allowed to die, if Matsu has anything to say about it. There's a lot of chopping and stabbing, as Ghost puts his new sword to use. "Might keep this thing if we make it outta this." He says dryly, amid the roar of battle, swiping his sword to slice a gnoll's head from its shoulders after a few whacks.

    He's not as concerned, only averting his eyes as Matsu blasts that demon to unholy hell. There may not even be the bastard's shoes left after all this.

    Ghost didn't doubt Itana left purely because of cowardice. That's not even in the woman's dictionary after all. She went to get reinforcements, and it shows as Itana leads a horde of the armies of the free people. "Let's not let them get all the fun, Mau!"

    The special operator is now the Ghostly Knight, a skull-faced omen of death to the enemies of Man. His sword practically sings as Ghost spots Illumiel get impaled.

    Ghost's eyes go wide, not just wiht horror, but sheer fury. He charges through, hacking orc after orc, until he nears the angel. "Forth Éorlingas! NOW FOR WRATH, NOW FOR RUIN, FOR THE RED DAWN!" He shouts at the top of his lungs, anybody who gets anywhere close to Illumiel will be hewn low by the mithril blade.

>> SUMMARY[Ghost] >> Ghost indulges his inner Tolkien nerd and fights to protecc the angle.

    The music stops. Marceline looks up. "Dude... Wait, do angels even die...?" She got no clue on the particulars. She knows very well that other worlds have their own rules about things that can or cannot die.

    She lifts up, squints but. Well. The sun and all combined with the change in wardrobe ah, yeah, she's gotta keep to the shadows. So, change up.

    She turns a dial, turns it turns it...! Then rakes the pick over the strings, letting fly with a deafening blast from the instrument! Best she's got from the protection of the shade. Might leave some friendly ears ringing but gosh, wouldn't it be a shame if it made the invaders hesitate for even a moment?

    Should anyone get close, she'll be able to cause further harm but really. Honestly. Are the orcs and goblins or even trolls gonna chance it? Nahhhhhh.

    The battle nears its end, and true to her word, Matsu has been busting her ass to make sure that no one dies. Even though people are fighting harder than ever... or rather, she is busting her ass entirely so that they can fight harder than ever. She can hear the turn of the tide when Itana returns at last, and though there's yet more healing to do, most of it is just a smidge non-critical. So for just the briefest moment, the Phoenix Maiden of Clan Shuzenji dares to allow herself to relax, just a little.

    And of course, in that moment, Illumiel is impaled on an orcish blade.

    "-Illumiel?!"

    The healer won't even remember moving, later. She certainly won't remember the way the flames of Suzaku begin to ripple and flow around her. She won't remember the moment a stray orc's arrow clips her arm; she certainly doesn't acknowledge it when it happens. It's pure suicide for a healer to just charge into battle like that, and yet, she does so, heedless of any danger.

    She'll only remember pumping rejuvinating flame, divine flame, into the downed angel. Though it may be a different divinity than the one to whom Illumiel pledges fealty, it is still the gentle, healing flame of a goddess. "No, no, you of all people are not allowed to just take a sword to the gut at the tail end of the battle-!" Furious though her words sound, there's an undercurrent of desperation, of borderline panic.

    A lot happens.
    But the arrival of the allied armies of man, elf, dwarf, and beastman alike send the dark forces into a rout.
    Somewhere amidst the now fleeing masses of monsters, Ereshkigal is crying.
    And an angel falls.R    "Oh fuck- oh shit- Illumiel!" Mau grunts as she rushes to the angel's side with Ghost and Matsu.
    Marceline cranks a dial- did she crank it to 11? Because the the noise-blast from her axe sends the last remaining orcs fleeing fast and opening a path for the others to reach the downed divinity.
    The noise has Mau's ears pinning back and ringing as she looms while the grand army does cleanup and the molotov cockatiel does her healing thing.
    THis fight is finally over. After days of fighting, the dark army is broken.

It's in the very moment of riding like the wind through an army of orcs dozens of ranks deep that a cold feeling seizes Itana's heart. Something has gone wrong. She lets her arrow go with a bark, a billow of flame and force blowing a gap in the enemy lines, and she storms through on chocobo-back and in among her allies as fast as her mount will carry her.

Soon enough, she's fought her way back into the fort - just in time to spot the last thing she wanted to see. Illumiel down among the bodies, with healers hunched over her.

Itana throws herself off her chocobo and dashes to kneel to one side of Illumiel. She rests a hand on the tiny angel's shoulder and looks up at Matsu with an undisguised plea in her eyes, clear through a welter of pain she doesn't want to relive again.

    /It's happening again./
        She can see herself riding into another castle.
        Finding the bodies long after the fact.

    'No, no, you of all people are not allowed to just take a sword to the gut.'

    And the healing flames, the divinity unlike the Angel's own, work their magic. The hole seeals up, the slow wafting of pearlescent fragments abates... and blue eyes flutter open.

    She looks around, at Mau, at Ghost, at Matsu... and Itana when she arrives, slowly pushing herself back up. "It... is not my time to extinguish... not now, not yet."

    She reaches up to touch Itana's cheek. She doesn't have words of comfort, only the knowledge that she is not yet to return to her maker.

     A lot has happened. The dark forces are repelled, for now. 
     At first, the panic catches Suvdaa's ears. When Mau panics, it's always a problem, but when she looks over to see what's wrong, she sees Mau isn't hurt. And it's with people that... Suvdaa hasn't known personally. 
     She doesn't get involved. She doesn't know the people all too well, or their involvement with Mau. Another flaw of Suvdaa, the lack of trust and relations with others. 
 
     Dulguun comes over to Suvdaa's side, brushing up against her hand as if demanding pets. Idly, the raider scratches her nails into his fur as she watches things play out, before she moves to just go to where the supplies are, dragging Dulguun with her by the ear gently. 
 
     It takes a bit for her to come over with food and water. The best she can bring is provisions, not feelings.

    Ghost, for the first time in days, is allowed to relax for once. He kneels besides Illumiel, giving the angel a supportive pat on the shoulder. Despite everything, his frosty demeanor, he does consider these people his friends.

    "You scared us good, Lumi." He says gently. "Don't make a habit of it."

    After that, Ghost approaches Mau and presents her sword back. "'s a good blade, but it belongs with you, Mau." The Brit says.

    After a moment. Once Illumiel opens her eyes... Mau releases the breath she hadn't realized she had been holding that whole time.
    "Cripes, don't scare us like that." She huffs. "For someone who is all 'BE NOT AFRAID' you just made us worry something fierce." She jabs Illumiel playfully as Suvdaa comes over.
    Mau helps herself to water.
    A lot of water.
    Thusly she takes her sword back from Ghost though, "You sure you don't want to keep it? Think of it as a gift." She teases lightly before she just kind of... Flops against Suvdaa.
    "I need a nap." She mewls and yawns. "I'll be in my bunk, don't wake me up for like three or four days."

 
     After Illumiel is played with some by Mau, and Mau has some more and more water, and takes the sword back from Ghost? She's flopped on. 
     At first, Suvdaa doesn't react. The cat mewls out and yawns, stating her intentions... and Suvdaa huffs. 
 
     "... Dumb cat. I'm not your bunk." Suvdaa lightly -scruffs- Mau with her hand, and pulls her up -- into a carry. "I'll take you to it, though. You've earned a good rest."

    Ghos-Nah, SIMON actually smiles and produces the scrap-iron grenade launcher. "Got this for it." He says, giving Mau a clap on the arm. "Gonna need to find my mask. Lost it in the excitement." He ambles off, eventually finding the ruined remains of his helmet and mask. Brushing some gore off both, he'll probably head for the barracks for a long, LONG NAP.

    Fuck, this was a long week.