All:

After much travel, you have at last come to the final destination. Standing before you is a mighty fortress, situated high up in the mountains. The coordinates that were given to Zenith Meria have led you here. Unfortunately, sudden urgency called Meria away from the mission, but the angel did not leave the Keepers without sending for new leadership. It is said that Del Istolla, one of the Chosen of Lothlómendil, is on his way to the keep even now, to lead the new guild in its first mission. Meria, however, was not aware of what the coordinates would lead to. It is only now apparent that the stronghold of these enemies is the same hall that once housed the Keepers of old.

The halls have been overrun, tainted by the evil that now fills them. The outside walls have become jagged and decayed, twisted and maimed by these unholy men. Inside, the halls are barren, stripped of their former glory, and it is nearly impossible to recognize the location as the former guild hall.

This development has led to a new objective in the mission of the Keepers. Besides rescuing the hostages, you must now attempt to reclaim the very fortress that has been taken over by minions of evil. This will not be an easy task, as the leaders of the group are concealed deep within the sanctuary.

The hostages themselves, who are the family members of a friend of Sraxen's, are in holding cells, located at various points within the complex. One cell holds a mother and her newborn child, off in the western wing. Another cell is the temporary home of our friend's niece, guarded by secret beasts. The young son, early in his teens, is being held in the eastern end of the halls. Finally, the elderly father, once a formidable war hero, is being held close to the heart of the halls.

Unfortunately, the new Keepers were not provided with any sort of map with which to guide themselves within the fortress. The halls are a complex labyrinth, and guards lurk at every corner, vigilant in their posts. The preferable tactic would be to break off into groups of no more than three, and spread out within the complex and attempt to reclaim the hostages. The reclamation of the hall itself, however, will be led by Grégoire himself, should he make it to the fortress in time.


OOC to All:

This topic is only for the Keepers of the Sacred Deed. Every family member must be rescued for the mission to be considered a success, so you need to split up into small groups to get to every holding cell. You shouldn't get to the cells very quickly, especially not in the first round of posting. Think of this as a dungeon crawl. The halls are maze-like, and the cells are well guarded. You can dream up as many NPC guards as you choose to oppose you along the way to the cells, but no NPC can die without me posting that you have killed them.

Remember that there is no posting order. You do not need to wait for the DM to post. However, you should allow everyone that is participating in the topic to post once before you post again. The exception to the above rule is if no one has posted in the topic in 48 hours, or a post has been made by the DM, which will refresh the posting cycle. If you have any questions, ask in the planning topic. Good luck.

So, here they were at last. It seemed like something out of fairytales; the dark and foreboding fortress walled by massive mountains and terrain, with more than a few nasty beings lurking within no doubt. Nathaniel hadn't interacted hugely with his fellow guild members, which was a pity given they were to tackle this as a group. Their leader, a winged being, had been called off before they arrived. So now here they were, without true leadership, and a massive mission ahead. The details were scarce; family members needed to be saved, villains had to be flushed out. That was saying nothing of where the people were being held, how many enemies lurked within the walls, or even if their position had been compromised. At this point, even a map would have been a Lothsend.

"Is anyone here familiar with this place?" He asked lowly, eyeing the group. There were a number of figures here who looked like they could rise to the challenge of leader, and they were welcome to it. The sooner they had a plan the sooner they could dig in. Nathaniel wouldn't mind going over what details they had again, but suspected other groups had already at the initial gathering to their original camp. Though he'd been present to it, he'd been busy sleeping in one of the tents and didn't interact with anyone during the time. Though his claim was that he'd collected a great deal of firewood and that with the trek had tired him out, it was more likely he'd been under the effect of one too many grog before the hike.

Whatever the case, he seemed fine now. Perhaps a little irritated, with a seething eagerness. The dark rims under his eyes had faded to a more natural tone, and his skin had lost the greenish hue it'd been sporting. Then again, darkness and the right stance did a lot for appearance. Currently he was dressed in his plate armour, a maroon cape fastened to his neck and a blade sheathed at his side. The sword was remarkably deadly, made of a powerful material and even stronger magic. Nathaniel was eager to impale one of their enemies upon it, though such dark thoughts he kept to himself. The Keepers had an air about most of them that suggested a few members were naive. It was solely by luck he'd caught sight of a few who wore the more battle-hardy exteriors, men and women who knew of battle and the hardships wrought by life.

Shifting, Nathaniel settled his shoulders in a level stance, chin raised just the slightest to portray his self-appointed ranking. "It would be wise for us to plan something, instead of running in immediately. Are plans already afoot?" Though his tone remained even, perhaps even smooth (it was not such a stretch to believe he had orated in the past, and like then he was proficient in it) there was an obvious opinion sewn into it. Though what that opinion was couldn't be ascertained from it alone, it was no secret he hated the more boisterous warriors who would happily rush in and bring the whole patrol crashing down on their heads. He'd seen it before and he'd hated it then, and prayed to Ita the same baffoons didn't lurk in these sections.

A dark blue cloud slithered off the moon, and white light bathed the area they stood in. Though he couldn't make out much, the visual confirmation was pleasing. "No one enters alone. There's no way to keep from losing people if we do that." With his arms at his sides, he hardly seemed offensive at all. Still, there would no doubt be those members who disagreed with him. Nathaniel didn't particularly mind; all the better, in fact. The more people voiced opinions the better the plan would be. But being in groups was an absolute must, something he'd learned in a lifetime ago. Not only was it dangerous for the person who went in, but they could quickly loose track of time and location and be lost to the others. With this showing, who was to say someone wouldn't be forgotten about either?

"Does anyone else have something to say?" He rose his voice just the slightest in volume, to be sure he was heard. They weren't close enough for the guards to hear him over the howling wind, but it was clear that those who did have something to remark were welcome to it. As a show of good faith, he even backed up a little, as if encouraging any speaker's to stand where he had to address the group. Somewhere in the canvas behind an owl hooted.

The twenty year old Vivianne glanced over to the fool as he began to speak. She, a humble bounty hunter knew more of this mission than he ever would! The naiad flicked a lock of hair from her eyes, and crossed her arms beneath her bosom. Her face was statuesque, a brilliant demonstration of female beauty without a single emotion to mar it. She'd allow him to speak, yet she remained poised to denounce his words, or simply prove him wrong. As he demonstrated his confusion so efficiently, Vivianne began to speak as the last words slipped from his mouth.

"Sir, I have no doubt you are confused, yet you shouldn't be. The commanders of this operation have this planned, and I'm rather certain that I know this plan. We shall split into groups upon entry, and the force lead by the new commander, Gregoire, who asked me to attend will be attacking along the route of most resistance.. All other groups will be eliminating the squatters and rescuing the hostages. Knowing plans before the battle, good sir, is an excellent reason to pay attention." Vivianne explained. A sardonic half smile slipped across her lips, but vanished faster than it had appeared as she strolled off. Her palm rested upon the hilt of her katana, and she glanced over her shoulder to observe the Keepers.

"Come along if you please, the hostages will likely be killed if we wait any longer." Vivianne shouted, her voice as cold as ice. She wasn't going to be pleased if her reputation was mauled in a failed job. The naiad adjusted the band around her neck to better conceal her gills, and emerged from the cover in which they'd assembled. A single guardsmen spotted her, and immediately raised the alarm. Vivianne wasn't too surprised, the exterior of this mountain cave system was a snowy clearing. She was wearing a bright blue dress with slits in the sides of the skirts and no sleeves for mobility. Suddenly, the naiad bolted off, charging head first into the men.

The sprint lasted little longer than thirty feet until she struck for the first time. Her blade hurtled from her sheathe to catch the man in a wide, horizontal arc. He parried efficiently, stopping her blade, and allowing his friend to attempt a blow of his own. Vivianne recoiled, freeing the other man's blade and barely avoiding his friend's. She immediately went on the offensive, creating an opening where there was none. Her blade flickered upwards, a brilliant blur masked by the glaring sun itself. The man brought up his blade, but it was all too apparent he lacked training. Metal and metal clashed, bringing forth a clamor of steel and a scream moments later as Vivianne's superior strength brought the blade crashing into his shoulder. It didn't bite deep, the mad strength of a desperate man and his friend forcing the blade into the air.

The tables flipped yet again, the two began a flurry of inexperienced blows. Yet in their quantity, they were beginning to overcome the natural agility of the naiad. Her blade darted about, deflecting theirs, yet she knew that they were slowly going to flank and defeat her. It was time to blindly hope her allies would come up and take advantage of the two men while they had such lethal focus upon their quarry.

Bloody weather. While snow didn't necessarily fall from the heavens as would normally be expected from such a high altitude, the biting cold was almost unbearable, especially when flying at such a great speed. Powerful wingbeats periodically launched him further, attempting to properly match the pace of the galloping horse below. Its rider below briefly glanced upward at the angel in flight, smiled at him, and continued.

After spending eight months stranded in Calaring the Everlight, such temperature was incredibly unwelcome to Thavron. Of all places, why so gods-damned remote? Shouldn't the goal of the new Keepers of the Sacred Deed be to route out evil where it's actually a threat? The fact that this group of baddies itself actually chose this place really demonstrated evil's average intelligence, as well. The brown angel sighed, forcing out another wave of shivers from beneath his cloak. Plates of armor underneath weren't helping the situation in the slightest, absorbing the cold rather than insulating him.

The rider below, however, seemed unusually happy. It wasn't a surprise; Irene, a warrior-priest of Threnody and fellow guardsman, always found a way to ruffle his feathers in subtle but increasingly unbearable ways. Thavron loathed happy people. The world was rampant with constant disruption and disorder, yet a handful of fools could still manage to keep a smile up. There is no time to smile when maintaining order, and she should know that more than anyone.

As the pair continued rising in altitude, Thavron started to regret ever even coming. He assured himself it was a debt he needed to pay his old leader and friend, Gregoire, who had recently risen as one of the leaders of the newly-formed group. Once again the brown angel would be forced to balance his duties between the Lomedor Guard and a guild. Of course, in the latter everyone seemed completely equal, which would be a nice change from the nearly torturous subservience and rankings imposed by the militaristic lawkeepers. The very thought of those damn tossers forced the angel's face into a twisting scowl, but he quickly controlled his temper and attempted to focus on the task at hand.

Looming above the mountains was the ominous visage of a fortress. Were they actually going to take that thing?! They couldn't be serious. Thavron's altitude of flight most likely allowed him to spot the stronghold before Irene on the ground did, so he pulled himself into a steep bank and dive toward the horse-riding priestess. Gliding a much shorter distance above her, Irene looked up at her mentor, puzzled. "Oy, the Keepers are off their heads. They're making us storm a bloody fortress," Thavron shouted over the flow of air around his wings.
"Sounds like fun!" Irene cried back with a smile, urging the horse into an even faster sprint.


"Hi! We're fashionably late!" the warrior-priest said cheerfully, hopping off the horse's back in the area most of the guild members had been gathered. "I'm Irene, and this is-" In the distance, Thavron came to a crushing landing close to the area a young woman had already started to engage the enemy. In a single blue blur accented by ripples of cloth falling behind his shoulders, the brown angel pivoted and forced the blunt end of his short spear into the base of a distracted soldier's neck. He cursed to himself briefly; his target had been the base of the skull, if not for the man's constant movements in the attack of the girl.

Irene paused, slightly perturbed by the abruptness of the fight. "Get the hell over here, Irene!" Thavron spat, just barely managing to block a frenzied blow from the guard he had distracted, who had since turned to direct a crushing series of quick blows toward him. She instantly snapped out of her hesitation and focused. Due to the alarm that had been sounded by the initial guards, another small group of soldiers had rushed from the stronghold's entrance to engage them. A pair of longswords Irene ripped from their resting places, leaping into battle with the ferocity of a wild animal.

They had been assigned to groups, he knew, based on the different hostages and where they were housed. Both of his teammates he had never met nor even heard of before, but he expected them to come to him if they ever had the proper chance for a quick chat. First of all, however, they needed to clear the pathway as best they could. Based on the size and make of the fortress before them, it would most definitely take more than a mere three people to do so.

It was only a few minutes into the actual mission, and the destination was now in sight, one that he somewhat expected judging from the fact that it was in this area and he couldn't think of anything else around, a place he'd been to once before the Keepers disbanded, and was returning to now that the Keepers had come back together, with him as possibly one of the few returning from the ranks of those that had been in the guild before it had disbanded.

Now it was under new leadership, from a man by the name of Sraxen, a name he hadn't personally heard before, a man he'd yet to see, but a man that had called the Keepers to arms in rescue of his family, which he heard was being held here, separated from each other.

Putting his mind back to the task at hand, though; it was only a few minutes into the actual mission, and already he was starting to slightly regret it. There was one person that was asking about the plans laid forward for this mission, another who was 'fashionably late', accompanied by a friend of theirs, presumably, and another who was totally reckless and kind of rude, simply rushing into the fray.

Sighing lightly, not even currently knowing who'd be accompanying him on his part of the mission, he glanced up to the sky, getting a bearing on his directions, then over to the eastern side of the hall, his target destination. In sight. Meaning he could get there quite quickly, reckless though that might be, leaving whatever teammates he may have to have to catch up.

Grumbling to himself, he glanced over to his dragon as it screeched lightly, a creature he'd found not long previously when he'd wandered off while most everyone else was sleeping, having no personal need for the activity. A lone egg, strangely abandoned, as if by the call of fate hatching when he came to it and quickly attaching itself to him as its parent. On seeing its breath, a stream of light and dark energy, he'd named it Tiridae, 'bright shadow' in elvish, and the small, purplish pink dragon was now coiled loosely around his neck.

"Alright, I won't take it too quickly..." he muttered to the creature, "but that doesn't mean I'm just going to wait around."

With that, he began his flight toward the eastern side of the hall, taking the high way so as not to be vulnerable from any ground forces, soon enough drawing his katana from where it was strapped horizontally across the back of his waist, twisting it around rapidly in his hand so that it was the right way up, weaving from side to side in the air as a steady fire of arrows came at him from three archers taking a high wall. Coming down upon them, Tiridae lifting herself off of his shoulders and hovering in the air using her small, greenish wings, the demon smirked lightly, an evil glint shining in his eyes as he began the onslaught, a smooth and lighthanded method of handling his sword that allowed for little wasted movement, every strike quick and forceful but stable, allowing him to go into a new one on a new target, only just able to attack the last of the three before they were able to fully nock their bow with a new arrow.

The messages had reached him not long ago. Gregoire had been on the grounds, tending the gardens and giving an outdoor sermon to some of the younger Temple members. There were stories in the scripture devoted to Lothlomendil, ones he knew well, regarding the shifting seasons, and the place of each as established by the Curin, the God of Nature. This was spun into tales of the life of mortals, and how, despite longevity, each race experienced a spring, summer, autumn and winter. The stories served to drive home the cyclical nature of life, an important concept for post-war survivors, who may have lost friends and family there. He had been pulled away early by the messenger, and motioned for one of the elders to take over and finish the sermon. It had been a younger fellow, well suited to the position. And briskly, he had headed into the halls.

It hadn't been long after that the situation was laid out for him. Zenith Meria had important personal matters to attend to, something befitting an angel of his stature and renown, and Gregoire had to take over at Stoneshield's bidding. A long time companion, and fellow war veteran, Gregoire owed his life and more to the dwarf, and was happy to take over the effort to reclaim the captive family. And he felt better for it. After Meria's descent into darkness, Gregoire wasn't inclined to trust the angel. He hadn't much to begin with, and the fall had confirmed it: The same foul blood ran in his veins that did in his brother's. Many embraced the angel's 'redemption' including Sraxen, who was a long time friend of Meria's, but the human couldn't help but feel uncertain about the angel. Falling was easier the second time, and much harder to climb up from again. For that, he left immediately, seeking the Portal that would bring him nearest to his destination.

--------------------

Last dispatched, Gregoire thought, shaking his head. The rest had better be at the meeting point. Our Lady's Chosen I am, but even with all her favour this will be a daunting task. He pushed his way up the rocky paths, the chilled air refreshing his senses. It was serene upon the mountain, a point of elevation and enlightenment. The trek alone served to filter out the unworthy, breaking the determination of those that would seek the old home of the Keepers. The climb was said to be full of trials and tribulations that would stop those who approached with corruption in their heart. But now, so many years later, it was corruption that held the heart of the keep. He could feel the old righteous fury welling up inside of himself, and breathed deep of the night's air. “Our Lady's most blessed gift is that of Life. To protect it is our first priority, to take it, the gravest judgment,” his lips moved to shape the holy prayers that were tattooed over his torso, and now marred with scar tissue and further he pushed himself up the mountain, his shield slung over his back, and his weapon at his side, both rattling against the chainmail.

The rendezvous wasn't far ahead, and already Gregoire could hear voices drifting through the mountains. He shook his head. One of his men was raising his voice, trying to offer guidance. But the tone, the timbre, they resonated a particular face in his mind. Nathaniel. Twice in a day, he felt the twinge of unease that made his skin crawl. The warlock had always rubbed him the wrong way, with the way he treated non-humans and women. Why Nathaniel chose to serve in the Keepers, and under Sraxen, he didn't know. Call him suspicious, Gregoire wouldn't care, but he couldn't help but feel that the warlock had an angle. The rest struck him as loyal and true, but Nathaniel's ignorance and ideas of oppression of other races... Gregoire shook his head. The Paladin would watch him with a sharp eye, and likely take up his fears with Stoneshield.

It wasn't long until a soft, feminine voice piped up in a manner so sweet it was nearly scathing. “Don't run your mouth, little brat,” he said, half in desperate prayer, half in laughter. Vivi was a bounty hunter. Somewhat abrasive, all too pretty, and cunning to boot, she was a valuable ally. She wasn't an official member of the Keepers, more so a contact of Gregoire's, one known for causing trouble as much as she was for ending it. This mission, involving the tactical rescue of the innocent, called for her special skill. The following clash of steel and crying out supported his judgment. The nymph was already at work.

Gregoire took off, unsheathing the Mercybearer and strapping down his shield. His long stride pushed him forward, past the assembled group. His brief stint as sub-commander for the army of light suddenly came back to him, and his orders boomed forth. “Break down into teams! Groups of four maximuim, right to the hostages! The rest of you, with me to the heart of the halls. We will cut away the taint from there!” A shadow momentarily eclipsed the sun, before a horse thundered past and a brown winged angel dropped out of the sky just ahead by Vivianne, his own destination. “Good to see you made it,” he said, hoisting his kite shield beside the nymph as he reached the melee, taking up a defensive posture. The brown-winged angel wasn't far from his position.

Wait... Brown-wing? “Thavron,” Gregoire called out, both pleased and surprised to see the guardsman, “good to s-” A well honed longsword arced towards his neck as he approached the melee, one he caught and twisted away with the haft of his morningstar. “I'm glad to see tha-” the corrupt guard, hate in his eyes, swung again, meeting the Paladin's shield in a resounding crash. The guard snarled, his upper lip curling in an ugly sneer, and brought the blade around for another strike on a crescent path. Gregoire shifted, raising his shield and letting the blade slide across, then brought down the end of his morningstar's hilt hard on the guard's elbow, attempting to disarm him. “Nice to see married life hasn't clipped your wings, Rama,” he finally finished, his brow furrowed into a focused frown, as he raised his shield and scanned the gates of the fortress. It looked like a vicious bottleneck, one that could easily be used against them. “Eyes on the flanks! Make sure we don't get surrounded,” he called out, again reverting to communication and command to deal with the sudden flood of guards.

Times like this, he thought wryly, make me wish we considered a more stealth oriented approach.

The wind whipped across the mountains causing the snow to cascade around the fortress, concealing the site from the average visitor. Unlike the others Caius needed no directions to the great citadel, for he had walked its lavish corridors and dinned in its great halls. The Fortress of the Keepers of the Scared Deed, and Caius was no stranger to this site as he had once called this place his home. Atop a high mountain overlooking the keep, the knight stood observing the scene as it was laid out before him. Yet now, even though he could barely see the fortress in this blizzard, he could feel something had changed after he left this place and returned to Lomedor.

Atop a high mountain he gazed down upon the great keep and he could feel emotions in the back of his head begin to stir. Caius received a message days ago that detailed the restoration and reclaiming of the Keepers of the Scared Deed. Pushing aside his daily business as a prefect and colonel in the Lomedor City Guard, he quickly packed and left for the fortress. Yet when he arrived he realized his heart had changed just as the great fortress had. Once Caius was a faithful follower of Lothlomedil and Threnody who believed in every story and lore that the priests of the goddess had written. Now He shared no faith is the supposed gods. The war had changed all that making him an atheist and rejecting any form of faith. He had become corrupt just like the fortress; the light within him had darkened and abandoned him.

His concentration broke to the sound of metal clashing. He squinted his eyes and saw that the other members of this mission had arrived and even had engaged the enemy. “Amateurs.” Caius said with a snort, so much for any organized surprise attack, in a few minutes every enemy in the surrounding area would be called to arms. He focused just outside the camp the keepers had set up. Then with bursting noised Caius exploded into a cloud of sulfur smoke and vanished. Just outside the camp and skirmish there was a puff noise and a dark mist rematerialized into Caius as he finished his teleport. The new ability of his made travel extremely easy of late and he had taken a liking to the skill. He strapped on his shield and drew his longsword, his dark blue cape flapped behind him and he pulled his cloak around his uniform that adorned all his badges and metals. He made another ‘jump’ and this time teleported into the thick of the battle.

As he rematerialized in the middle of a group of enemies his sword came round and caught an unsuspecting guard off beat. His sword penetrated the man just above the waist at his right side, blood spraying all over him and the ground. He quickly counter rotated his shoulders and then punched forward with the edge of the shield, which smacked into the guard and sent him crashing to the ground. A spearman from behind him cried out at the fallen comrade and quickly charged Caius with his spear pointed at his back. Just before the tip could make connection with his back, Caius exploded into a dark blue mist and teleported a few feet away, then he quickly went on guard. The spearman only charged at him again with his sharpened tip ready to skewer the young knight. Caius angled his shield as the spear came forward and then pushed the weapon out of the way to his left with a tap of his heater. He quickly came round with his sword and cut deep into the man’s shoulder. The guard screamed and Caius quickly put him down by kicking him in the gut.
“Oh yes just another day in Paradise.” He remarked as more men joined the fight.

The day was long and cold; Marcus craned his neck toward the sky only to see the bright sun overcast by clouds. It was a dreary day both in today's world on Marcus' heart. Today was the Reclamation of the Past as it had become popularly referred to. Today was the day he and the rest of the Keepers would have to crawl upon the mountains to reach the old halls. Marcus was exhausted from the journey, he had walked the entire way and though Sebastiaon his wolf kept pace it was obvious they were a tired pair. Marcus leaned back and looked again to the sky, his gaze fell upon the mountain and the distant wooden hall that lie miles before him. He could not continue this journey he was too tired.

Now was the time Marcus pitied his choice to be a fighter for any cause, now was the time he wished he had the magical prowess that would carry him up the mountain. As body was screaming for him to stop and rest for just a moment. The Knight knew if he sat he would not get up again. His armor was heavy upon his shoulders; his swords drooped at his sides. The holy light that emulated from them was waxing.... Marcus' faith was dwindling in his exhaustion, as was evident in the pale light that now radiated from his armor. The Knight was nearly in tears, has he taken his final step?

Suddenly his foot gave way under his own weight and Marcus crashed with an ear shattering thump upon the ground. His body lies in disarray and chaos upon the icy barren landscape. He was but a speck in the fabric of life and in his exhaustion he believed such things. Lies of Raku, spittle spun by the God of Darkness, for Marcus knew he was strong he was most significant than a speck. For now though he must rest....Marcus, semiconscious fell into darkness once more.

Midst the darkness Marcus heard and saw little more than the velvet black that lay before him. However deep within the tombs of his mind he heard a voice. Sweet like honey and tender the voice was, as it spoke to him.

"Marcus, of all the days these days, are rocked in dark and waiting, in regret. The clouds obscure the city delaying thoughts and sunlight, as I hang between day and darkness. I have waited past all decision, past heart in shadows to tell you this. In absences you grew more beautiful, more poisonous, you were an attar of orchids in the swimming night, where passion, like a shark drawn down a bloodstream, murders four senses, only taste preserving, buckling into itself, finding the blood its own, a small wound first, but as the shark unravels the belly tatters in the long throat's tunnel.

Knowing this, the night still seems a richness, a gauntlet of desires ending in peace, I would still be a part of these allurements, and to my arms I would take in the darkness, blessed and renamed by pleasure: but the light, the light, my Marcus when the sun spangles the rain-gorged sidewalks, and the oil from doused lamps rises in the sun struck water, splintering the light to rainbow! I arise and though the storm resettles on my city I think of you foremost, who can see the sun straight through the fog and cloud rack. How could I abandon you? So into the shadow and not your shadow but the eager grayness that is death.

Marcus....I release you."

With an audible gasp Marcus said in low tones ”Laurana,” he bolted upright, a new energy a new weightlessness upon his shoulders. Slowly he stood his bones and his heart mending with every inch, she had released him and forgiven his sins and for that he could never thank her. Rising to his full height he would again be able to expose his heart and his body once more. He turned to look toward the remainder of his journey. With a sigh he knew this journey would take so little time now.

Grabbing Sebastiaon by the nape of his neck Marcus pulled him gently close. With an oddly loud and painful roar Marcus screamed to the seven winds. His body began to change; he was releasing the spell as Laurana had done so to him. With a painful screech Marcus changed slowly into a massive being, the silver dragon he had hidden within the depths of his soul for so long was finally being exposed. With a final roar Marcus’ limbs twisted and grew, his scales began to spurt agonizingly from his skin to display their silver radiance. Wings long and powerful spread from his back, claws formed from his fingers and his jaw grew ten sizes. Fully transformed Marcus took up most of the mountain side. When the dust had settled and all was calm a beautiful creature stood amongst the rocks.

A great Elder dragon, Marcus’ true form stood upon the boulders with a proud mystique and wonder. With Sebastiaon calmly unconscious within his claws Marcus knelt down and pushed his massive legs against the rocks and launched himself into the air. With a powerful, familiar thrust of his wings Marcus threw himself deep into a downward dive, he was descending the mountain only to gain speed. He drew a final breath and completed the aerial maneuver. Turning his wings upright the force of his body and his thrusts pushed him high above the Keepers hall with lighting speed. There he withdrew his wings and tumbled through the air.

Downward he soared further and further toward his goal, the hall would be in shambles had he forced his way in. So mid flight he began the transformation once again and however painful and excruciating the change was Marcus took again this human form just as he landed not a few feet from rendezvous at the hall. Near a raging battle taking place near the entrance of the Great Hall. With an unconscious Sebastiaon at his side Marcus quickly laid the creature in a nearby bed of grass and snow.

Then pulling himself up he crepttoward the battle.

Marcus stopped upon nearing the wooden doors his back to the fortress, the howling of the wind seemed distant now. Marcus drew his swords as he did so they began to glow with a blue light. These Holy blades one for each hand began to dance a deadly dance as Marcus ran towards the heart of the battle raging outside the mountain clove. Noticing a few fellow Keepers along the way engaged in battles of their own,Marcus was surprised he had encountered no resistance. His hopes dwindled has he reached the heart of the battle. Many warriors and creatures stood before him, they had nearly surrounded a group of Keepers. With a challenging roar Marcus in his elven form took to war. Raising a sword he began the long journey to his companions, through steel and blood he would cut his way to them. The alarms that had been rasied sounded like a drum to which marcus' blades beat.

Cruel mountains of Ered Annon. Their peaks covered with snow, while harsh winds howl through the dark forests, only death awaits in the deep, hidden parts of Ered Annon. But this path was not one of them. Hrothgar made his way through the woods, huffing and inhaling the cold, chilly wind that refreshed his senses. A pig was following him, it's fur was now white and brown, it's black eyes looking bright and widely awake. Buta was now about 5 weeks old and was slowly reaching it's adulthood. Hrothgar glanced at the pig with a smile on his face and Buta replied by looking it's master directly in the eyes, before looking at the way ahead of it again. The dwarf looked in front of him again, a stronghold was appearing on the horizon, even though not clearly visible. Voices could be heard, carried by the wind. Hrothgar fastened his pace, the boots which seemed to flourish with every step he made, and his weapon would hit his hip, since it was linked to his belt with a heavy chain.

The dwarf could now see the figures in front of a tall stronghold, which was once a guild hall of the Keepers. The coordinates he received from the archangel Meria were correct, since he finally reached his destination. He heard that the archangel was unable to lead the mission, but still, he fulfilled his duty by sending a new commander for the mission. Hrothgar only knew it was one of Lothlomendil's Chosen. Also, a new objective was added to the mission. Reclaiming the guild halls, as the dwarf has heard. But still, he decided to save the niece, one of the hostages. The niece was guarded by "secret beasts" which intrigued Hrothgar. Beasts, unknown, secret and hidden, maybe foul and corrupted with darkness, dangerous and deadly - all this just made Hrothgar's blood boil. He was still young, for a dwarf, still thirsty for battle and excitement.

The clash of steel resounded through the air, which only made Hrothgar's heart pound faster. The dwarf approached the clearance in front of the hall, when he noticed two guards coming from the woods. The alarm has been raised already, reinforcements were coming. They were running towards a young man which was dressed in white, with a holy book hanging by his side. Taking his weapon, the dwarf stood there for a moment, putting his right hand on the pig besides him. Closing his eyes, letting the wind play with his long, fiery beard and wave with his brown robes Hrothgar started mumbling something. His right hand emitted some kind of green mist, while the dwarf was saying holy words beneath his voice. Yes, he prayed, asking for the Goddess to protect him and his comrades. But in the same time, he was casting a spell. Hrothgar opened his eyes, which were not blue, but completely green for a second, then he disappeared.

Appearing again right in front of the guardsmen, just behind the paladin, he ambushed them, playing the old trick called "surprise". Buta was also besides him, screeching and screaming, trying to scare the enemies. This usually horrified them, especially if the opponent didn't know where the noise was coming from. Hrothgar frowned, while swinging Zavan with intense force. The guard raised his shield, blocking his attack. The other one swung his longsword, with rage and anger in his eyes, but the dwarf was quicker. Hrothgar's weapon successfully parried the blow, the force of the impact made a few sparks glow in the night. "Aye, ye deerty daizy peecking ogres!" Hrothgar yelled, while Zavan hit the hard armour of the guard, leaving him unharmed. A malicious grin appeared on the guards lips. Sounds of battle, clash of steel was carried through the wind, echoing across the high mountains of Ered Annon.

[ OOC: I asked Sraxen if I may change my post so I can use my Harrier's Hammer in this topic. So, I changed it doesn't say what weapon Hroth's using, 'cause at the time I posted this I still had Harrier's Axe [ non-reforged ]. Thanks Al, once again. ]

All:

The sudden assault upon the group was unexpected, to say the least. And though it was delivered with an intense ferocity that inspired more fear than courage, the wary Keepers kept their resolve. Even now, more forces emerge from the shadows of the gate, swinging weapons of fury and destruction. The desired stealth approach seems to no longer be an option. Still, time is of the utmost importance, as the minions of evil are now aware of our heroes' presence. The longer the fighting continues outside the gates, the more likely it is that the hostages will meet an unfortunate fate.


OOC to All:

Everyone is allowed to make another post in the topic. By the end of your next post, you should at least be inside the gate and ready to continue the mission. This is where the groups will break up and go their separate ways in order to save each hostage. Also, please remember not to go overboard with slaying the enemy NPC's. If it looks like you are killing an unrealistic amount of enemies, the DM will have to intervene and you will no longer be able to kill NPC's unless the DM has stated that they have been killed. Read up on the other rules of the mission by looking over the first post in the topic.


OOC to Jade Valdis, Star Dust, and Naois:

You three still have time to post. However, you need to be caught up with the other people in the topic by the end of this round of posting, or you'll be behind. The hostages are depending on you!

She stood with the other Keepers, her light blue eyes trained on the fortress in front of her. It was time for her first mission, and she could already see that this was to be no easy feat. The wind blew hard around her, making the cloak she had worn to ward off the cold whip about her. Her hand closed around the sheath of her sword as she prepared herself for the battle that was soon about to begin. In her mind, she went over every last instruction she had received from the planning. Her eyes roved over the east wing of the fortress as her mission repeated itself in her mind all over again. Her job was to save the boy in his early teens that was being held captive there. As it was, however, she had no idea as to who she would be working with for this particular mission.

Lynette looked up as a voice shook her out of thoughts. A black-haired man stood with the group, asking them whether or not they had made plans and trying to play leader. The young paladin did not remember him from the meeting they had had while they were planning this out. Judging from the fact that he didn't seem to know anything about the mission, she guessed that he had not been present. She did not answer him, not remembering anyone assigning him to be commander. Instead, the young girl watched as a woman stepped forward, setting him in his place before starting the charge herself.

One by one, people began attacking. She watched as more men, both on their side and on the enemy's, began to arrive, starting the fight. In particular, she heard one man shout orders, and Lynette turned towards him. She assumed that he was Gregoire del Istolla, the man that they had been awaiting. She had heard that he was one of the Chosen of the Goddess of Life herself--Lothlomendil. She had been told that he would be leading the charge, and so at his order she began to move.

Lynette faced the battlefield in front of her again, surveying the situation. It would not do good for her to rush into battle blindly and get killed on her first mission. Although she had been training with a sword for many years now, and had been in a few skirmishes here and there, this was for the most part, her first real battle. She did not think she would be able to face her father if she died here because of a stupid mistake. Her hand reached up, closing around the pendant hanging from her neck. A short prayer crossed her lips in a barely audible whisper as she caressed the pendant in her hands. The necklace and this sword were the last gifts that her father had been able to give her. She took a deep breath, glancing out over the battlefield one last time before moving forward.

She ran towards the door of the castle, knowing that she would not be able to save the hostages without going inside. She noticed, as she ran, that there was a figure flying towards the east wing. Perhaps that was who she was supposed to be working with. At any rate, she did not have the wings to fly with, and she would have to accomplish this on foot. As she expected, however, the defenders of the fortress would not allow her to simply enter it without a fight. A guard ran towards her, swinging his sword downwards in a strike.

Steel flashed through the air as Lynette's sword left its sheath, blocking the blow. The young paladin kept her hands on the hilt of her longsword, eyeing the guard coldly from beyond the clash of blades. A grin spread over the guard's face as he looked at her, no doubt thinking that he had found an easy kill. Lynette continued to glare up at him. She may have been weaker than many of the people here, but she was by no means easy to bring down in a battle of blades. The man raised his sword again and she blocked it, taking a step backwards and initiating a strike on her own. The dance of blades began, neither of them wanting to back down. Lynette continued to block the slashes heading her way, waiting for an opening.

There! she thought as the guard raised his sword high in an attempt to bring it down on her. She moved forward as he brought the blade down, darting to the left quickly to avoid the slash as her sword moved through the air, soaring towards him in an attack of her own as she aimed a thrust at him. She needed to end this quickly. The hostages' lives depended on the success of this mission

((OOC: I didn't know if I could post whether or not I killed the guard, so I left it open-ended. If Lynette killed him, then she's inside the gate and ready to continue the mission ^__^))

Jade was a newly appointed member of the Keepers. Zenith, the archangel of life, had had a session with her as he tested her fighting skills and even then, the highly renown warrior said that he was impressed. This fight happened not too long ago, but since then, Jade had increased her skills drastically and armed herself quite nicely. She was an assassin that could be put to good use, of course if there was a personal interest to Jade of course.

Not too far into the guild, there was word of a mission that was highly needed and important. Zenith himself invited her into the mission ranks. This was a great privledge, but at the time she was supposed to meet up with the rest of the party members, she was busy on another assassin mission from her original organization that she works for. She was not up to speed with any details concerning the mission and she was not up to date with the other members who had joined the Keepers. After her long grueling quest for her organization it was time to make her way to the Mountains which was the place Zenith told her to go in a letter as he told her about his leave of the guild and her role in the keepers.

* * *
The day to meet the others for the mission had come. Jade had prepared herself nicely, and Mara had been with her the entire time. She strapped on her weapons and armor in a way she could get to them easily. Strapped to her belt, she had her shurikens and throwing knives attached. She had her two shadow daggers connected to two straps on her boots, and her enlarging dagger was placed in a small pocket that was near her left shoulder. Her black dagger, which was a gift from Vaul himself, was placed in a strap on her right shoulder. Her arrows were in a small pouch near her back along her waist. She kept them in a place where they would fit in a snug position as she did her acrobatics, but made it easily accessible for her to get to them when needed. The final thing she had was her Oath Bow which was a family heirloom which she now possessed and used on a regular basis. Those were the weapons she had worn, the other outfitted equipment that she had, such as her bracelet and her leather armor, were items she always went with.

She arrived at the mountain base a few hours after getting prepared. Mara, her closest friend, was at her side. The light warm breeze from the mountain base swept through gracing her body and blowing her hair lightly. A small chill went down her back as she took her first step up the mountain.

“Lets do this. They are counting on us. Zenith is.” Mara said as he flew around in circles around her. Jade couldn’t help but smile and get a sense of courage which Mara could only give her. “Lets do this” Jade said as she took off at full sprint up the mountain. Jade had been trained with exceptional acrobatic abilities, and scaling the mountain was easy for her. She had made it halfway up the mountain in roughly ten minutes, but even being only halfway, the feeling of evil could be felt. The sounds of a ongoing battle rang ahead too as well as a blaring alarm. Jade quickly unhooked her bow form her back and knocked two poison arrows into it. She continued to bolt until she came to a portion of the mountain where it had a few trees that stood high and mighty.

Jade and Mara bolted for the trees and did a small leap into one of them. Using her strong legs, she used her already gained momentum to propel herself up the tree quickly. The tree was higher than Jade expected, for when she was halfway up the tree, she could see the old fortress, people, and the on going battle perfectly.

Her party members were Nathaniel, and some other person named Thaverny, or Thor. Something starting with a T and a H was all she could remember. Hopefully he or she were capable of handling themselves. Nathaniel sure as hell would need help. She had completely missed most of the beginning of the battle for everyone was in the middle of it now. Jade was the only person who stayed far behind, high in the trees and acted as a sniper for the group members. They should thank her. Or give her a lot of money. She was always late for something. Either too late or too early, but she always made sure that she was highly needed for what ever the cause was.

“Lets do this” Jade said as she felt the spell True flight Arrow take effect in her arrows. She pulled the drawstring back far and aimed at two upcoming guards running towards Nathaniel. “He always needs my help” Jade said as Mara whisked around with an expression of pure excitement on his small face.

Jade let the arrows go as she licked her lips softly and made her quick descent from the tree. She could not stay in the same spot for too long or the demon snipers might catch on to her. Just as fast as she had hopped from the higher branch to a lower one, she had prepared two more arrows into her bow. “One more time” She yelled as the spell once again took effect and she launched them. This time, the arrows were aimed for two guards that seemed to be fighting the new leader of the Keepers. The spell made it to where her four arrows automatically hit its target, although there was a chance that it would not hit a vital spot, but from the height and distance she was at, the arrows would carry enough velocity to do a lot of damage no matter where it hit.

“I hope they pay me soon. Im hungry.” Jade said as she once again changed positions in the tree. The second time had caught the attention of a demon bowman and he launched arrows at Jade, but because she had changed positions, the arrows were an utter waste.

Jade would make a full rendezvous with her team once this small bottle neck battle here was taken care of. She would serve as the guild sniper for the moment, even though he really wanted to get down and dirty with her little friend Mara in the battle.

“Mara. I have a task for you. Run down to where Nathaniel is now and tell him im here. Tell him to get his sword out and fight for I wont be there for him forever. Make it sound sincere too sweety.” Mara simply nodded and quickly flew off in a beeline straight for Nathan. He would be there in a few seconds as small and fast as he is. “Be careful Mara. You’re the only thing I have left” she whispered to herself as she knocked a few more arrows into her bow and continued her minor sniper assault until they were fully prepared to take the fortress back. She slowly made her way closer and closer to her team members, but stayed far enough back to serve the position of a sniper correctly. She was not far from them at all, a small jog would bring her there, but her purpose right now was to stay back a bit. Jade was officially in the mission now, her lateness had costed her minorly, but she was now only moments away from her team at the normal rendezvous point. Lets get this over with.

Vivianne glanced over to Gregoire, even as she held the line at the fore of the Keepers. These men lacked real training, and it was rather obvious they plotted to win by encirclement. She remembered why she was brought along in the first place, and her face twisted into the sardonic grin she was famous for.

"Gregoire, I'm glad you could make it as well. Now, allow me to get us into the door." Vivianne stated. In moments she shifted from the defensive to the offensive. Her foe suddenly found himself under a frenzy of blows, hurtling in at every angle possible to assault his upper torso as the naiad stepped forwards. Every step was mirrored in opposition by the man, as he tried to keep that delicate distance between himself and the furious young woman.

Every single blow forced him to find a better and better position to defend his upper torso, and he could feel himself getting weary. The guard sighed in relief as a protracted pause between strokes left the blade quivering horizontally. Then came the strike, and the moment he realized he'd been effectively fooled. Her blade crossed the delicate line between torso and thigh, bringing with it a miraculous spray of blood. Fluid hurtled off the tip of her dripping blade as she brought this strike to an end, the man falling to his knees.

"Two." Vivianne muttered. Her eyes drew across her allies, the keepers. They were being encircled, and what little she knew of naval combat would be of no use on dry land. Her eyes fell upon a young girl who looked eerily like the mercenary daughter of the former goddess of Chaos, an elven man with expensive blades, Thavron, Raikenza's husband, a dwarf, and some knight.

She pulled herself from this momentary pause, and noted that there was an axe falling towards her skull. No time to think. Her entire body ceased to occupy this space, except for a scrap of dress that hid a leg. The axe fell on it, yet with the force of a blade being withdrawn. Vivianne grunted as the flesh wound was dealt, thanking the Lady Life for her good fortune in the survival of a tendon. Vivianne brought a tremendous strike in return down as she pulled herself back together. The man slumped down as the blade dug a furrow into his side, more blood spurting across the naiad. She sighed heavily, and glanced to the now-open path to the gateway. Three men had lost their lives to her blade on this day, and all for a hostage rescue of only five people.

How many would die before this ended to save so few?

Vivianne tumbled this around in her mind as she limped within the gateway, hoping that the rest of the keepers would shatter the encirclement. Her body crossed the portal, and a single crossbow bolt greeted her. A sixth sense took charge, and she recoiled yet again, but not enough. The hurtling bolt sliced across her forehead, and she broke out into a sprint. The arbalest user struggled to reload with his crank, and began to change weapons as she fell upon him. Yet again the blade lashed out, taking him across the stomach.

Vivi averted her eyes from the sight, and limped back to the entrance of the gateway, prepared to hold it against all who challenged it. The naiad wiped blood from her eyes with her palm, and began to regret her decision to join the keepers in this endeavor.

Glancing over to see how everyone else was doing at the gate, nobody else apparently having the resources, or wings, to simply fly over and reach the destination more quickly, he couldn't help but wonder if there even was anyone that was to help him in his particular task of this mission, to save the teenage boy. There weren't from what he'd gathered during the brief meeting, that was for certain. Either they just didn't trust him, or had no interest in the boy...he wasn't sure, but whatever the case, he'd do his best.

Cursing silently as an arrow scraped past his cheek, producing a shallow, thin cut of pure black, he grabbed his skullshredder dagger with his free right hand and whirled around quickly, tossing the jagged weapon in the general direction that the arrow had come from, with the full knowledge that he'd attacked without even catching sight of the opponent, and for that matter wasn't even all that good at throwing such weapons that probably weren't meant to be thrown, judging by the daggers weight and appearance. But he wasn't a fool, and wasn't going to stick around to see if it worked, or if more would come after him.

"Tiridae, now!" he shouted, making a run for it and jumping off the fortress wall, allowing his wings to glide him steadily down, the only indication of whatever was happening where he just was being the sound of his small dragon's high screech, which meant that it had released its breath, a wave of light energy and dark energy intermingled together, producing a somewhat destructive force even for a hatchling. It probably wouldn't kill, but it would certainly harm, and make the attackers think twice about a quick pursuit.

Alighting easily on the ground, he allowed himself a quick moment to think on what his next course of action would be. He couldn't well stay in that one spot for very long, lest more come after him; thus, he could either fall back somewhat, to support the others and see if there were any that were here to assist in his part of the mission, or he could proceed onward.

Once more cursing lightly, he opted to go against his reckless nature if just this once, turning his attention to the lines that seemed to be just making their way beyond the gate, letting his feet take him in that direction as his dragon followed by wing. Glancing back for a moment, he noticed that a few armed with swords had begun to pursue him. Wonderful.

Turning his attention back to the matter at hand as he arrived near where everyone else was, he watched as a girl, a human paladin just a small few years younger than he himself appeared, fought off one of those guarding the fortress from intruders, which in this case were the Keepers despite that this was once their home. Inexperienced, perhaps, but skilled, that much was certain. Perhaps someone he'd work with another time.

Not waiting to see if her thrust would work, which it probably in all honesty would, or interested in letting himself stall at such a time as he was being pursued, he came hard on the girl's attacker, aiming a punch to the back of the man's head, more as a matter of a distraction for her attack to more easily go through than an actual attack of his own. Turning his attention quickly afterwards to the two that were pursuing him, pivoting hard on one foot to turn himself around to face them, he ducked down low, avoiding a horizontal slash from one of the men, who'd reached him first, trying to come forward with a thrust of his own before his sword was knocked down by the other man's arrival.

"Hope you don't mind me asking your name, and if you're headed to the eastern wing?" Lance asked, even in the midst of battle able to remain calm and focused on things around him. Weaving from side to side, occasionally blocking with his sword, he hated to admit that these men were a bit too skilled for him to easily take on two at a time.

Staring ahead at the sky as it became ever more closer, Stella thought over her plan more carefully. She had brought only the essentials - her spiked bracelet, Winter wand and normal Wand. Was there really more she would need? Yes, there was ONE thing she could do with, yet there was nothing she could do now. Walking up the mountain Path, she cursed herself for forgetting to bring a cloak, the cold clean mountain air burning her lungs, sending goose bumps up her arm, teeth chattering.

She had been walking for a while now, yet she was still behind the others, her small legs carrying her at a slower pace then the others. Nothing had gone right today, and yet Stella would never think about turning back. She was so close now.. she could almost hear the sounds of the swords clashing... Swords clashing? Haltering, She stopped to listen. Yes.. the sound of metal colideing with metal could be heard, and each clink sent shivered down her spine. There was a fight going on.

Setting off at a sprint, Stella made her way to the top, where a large Fortress was situated - But she had not enough time to admire it properly. Before her, her fellow keepers where at battle with the Guards. Stella could pick out a few friendly face's, but now was not the time for a reunion. Drawing out her wand, she stood poised, ready, waiting for the right opportunity. "'ello darlin'." She froze. The voice came from behind her. Turning slowly, the hairs on the back of her neck standing, Stella turned to see two men. One was large, gruff looking, clad in heavy armour and a impressive looking two handed sword. His face was half covered with a helmet, but from what she could see, she did not truly admire. He was dirty, unwashed, and his features pig-like. He grinned, exposing blackened teeth.

Shuddering away, Stella's eyes focused on the other man. He too was clad in shiny armour, though his was lighter, his form smaller, thinner. He wore no helmet, his hair a brown mass on top of his head, as though it had never been touched by a comb. He too was smiling at her, his smaller sword held at his side casually. "Are you wi' dem?" The larger one asked, cocking his head din the direction of the Keepers. She did not answer. The man sighed.

"We may a'well kill 'er" She smaller, rattier one sniggerd, and together they raised their swords. The smaller one would be no problem. Stella decided, but the larger one.. he was about twice her side, outwards AND upwards! Taking in a large gulp full of the air, She aimed her first attack and the largest one. His Swords swung for her menacingly, his lunge heavy but slow. She swiftly moved out of the way, watching almost in slow motion as the man's attacked followed through, sending him stumbling forwards. Now was the moment. Keeping a close eye on the smaller Guard, who seemed to be watching in amusement, Stella raised her want at the large one.

"SOLAR WIND!" She yelled, her wand pointed at him. A gust of Bluish wind swept him off his feet. It did not last long - it didn't need too. The moments ticked by, and Stella watched in amusement as the the mans armour gradually began to change color, his screams echoing in her ears as his armour glowed red hot. He scratched at it, but it was too late. The air was thick with the smell of his burning flesh, and soon enough he fell to the ground in a cooked heap. Stella watched him for a moment, feeling sickened, before glancing up sadly at the other Guard.

He appeared to be in shock. Slowly, his eyes made their way to Stella's, and she detected the horror he felt. They stared at one another for a moment, before he finely took a shaky step back.. and then another, before breaking into a fast run for the mountains. Stella watched him, before turning slowly towards where all the others where fighting. She would face what ever was next thrown at her confidently - though she wasn't sure how much killing she could take.

(( OOC: I'm soo sorry for the delay! I hope it's not too late... ^_^; ))

A single figure could be seen moving swiftly towards the former Keepers' headquarters. As the figured neared, it could be seen to be angelic, except it was missing something. This angel had no wings, only stubs that ended in bandages. The bandages were all that remained to show that those wings were removed, not stunted at birth. These stubs would occasionally flutter randomly, as though the angel could never give up the fact that he once could use them for flight.

This angel, known only as Naois, was here to aid in the retaking of the former base of the Keepers. He could soon hear the sounds of battle ringing in his ears. This was what he trained to do. He was an angel of war, if this wasn't already proven by the armor and sword. He soon spotted the defenders and the attackers, spotting a few people he recognized in the crowd.

Naois grinned slightly as his eyes landed on Stella. That grin turned into a smirk as he viewed how she handled herself. He made a quick dash and a jump, landing next to her at the end of the jump. He nodded swiftly in greeting before repelling an attack aimed for his head.

The angel turned to face this new threat, a man of similar stature to his own. However, he was human and Naois was an angel. The attacker ran at Naois, swinging his blade around him. Naois realized the feint in time to avoid the inevitable strike. He jumped up and landed on the man's head, knocking him to the ground. Naois hopped off the struggling man and pointed his sword to the poor soldier's neck.

While his eyes remained focused on the objective, Thavron's ears picked up the familiar grit of a voice nearby. "Nice to see married life hasn't clipped your wings, Ráma," The brown angel briefly glared over in Gregoire's direction, inadvertently forming an opening for his opponent to strike. To compensate, Irene spun behind him and jammed both longswords into either side of his torso, gritting her teeth with the additional strength needed to pierce padded leather. The man's twisting grin dissolved as he jerked forward from the force of the blow.

Thavron took a single pace back just before the soldier dropped his weapon, fell to his knees and eventually forward onto his stomach, exposing the two open wounds where blood began to well up to the surface. Irene's countenance was dominated by a massive expectant grin, as if a loyal dog looking up to its owner for assurance that what it did was good. The brown angel's face appeared blank due to the helmet covering it. After a brief pause, he spun Integrity so its blade faced downward and shoved it into the back of the fallen man's skull.

With that, he turned his head briefly in Gregoire's direction. "My wings thus far remain unclipped, so long as I continue to pour my hard-earned crowns into buying m'lady cheesecake," his shouted reply echoed from inside the metal covering his face. Out of the corner of his eye, however, an all-too-familiar sight feebly hopped. At first, disbelief was all that the brown angel felt, his body frozen in the peculiarity of the situation as it presented itself.

No, it couldn't be, he assured himself. That is certainly not that damn rabbit! Ever since last year's Ehtele'mele Festival, that gods-damned rabbit followed him around wherever he went, sometimes managing to find him in seemingly impossible situations. How the bloody hell could that thing still be following him, much less know where he was?! How did it even survive after so long? Alas, it was still the unnamed rabbit that was unwillingly his own, plump and old but with the same sheen of light-brown fur from its past status as a mere hatchling. Thavron spun around abruptly, plowing past Irene to flee from the stalking creature. "Onward, Irene." The warrior-priestess gave an ignored frown before following.

Coming to an abrupt stop, Thavron narrowed his eyes under his helmet. Droves of corrupt men now poured from the gates. Just how many were there, anyway? If the soldiers could afford to abandon their positions to run outside like bats out of the underworld, just how many were still inside? There was no time to hesitate. Crouching slightly and keeping his eyes on the small mob, Thavron gripped Integrity with both hands and pulled it into a ready position. After whispering a brief prayer to Threnody, he kicked his metal-plated foot off of the ground, barreling toward the gate in a near-blur.

There was little time for corrupt guards in his immediate path to react. Hit with the full force of the brown angel's weight, several men and women were slammed off their feet or collided into their allies, staggered briefly. Near the open gate, however, Thavron's charge came to an abrupt stop when the blade of a massive battle axe came into his view. Running straight into the weapon, a massive horizontal dent formed itself in Thavron's breastplate, knocking the wind out of his lungs and forcing him to slide and stumble on his feet. The wielder of the axe, a towering minotaur, was not the only one on the offensive; those who did not continue charging for the bulk of the Keepers stayed to approach Thavron.

"You can be an idiot sometimes, Mr. Thavron," Irene grumbled, attempting with her best efforts to sprint through the path her mentor had created in order to fight alongside him. The brown angel failed to acknowledge her comment, focusing instead on creating enough distance between him and his enemies so as to use his spear more effectively. The pair, separated by several feet but still close to the mouth of the fortress, prayed for support from their fellow Keepers. Without it, both would surely be cut down in a matter of minutes.

The warrior-priestess whirled about repeatedly, eyes trained to pinpoint threats in every direction. One sword she used for the attack, and the other for parrying and defense; without them both, surely she would be fatally struck in the back by one of the three soldiers that had chosen to tag-team her. Another three had assaulted Thavron, who had already near-exhausted himself from the initial charge. His responses were growing more and more delayed in comparison to the surprising livelihood of his enemies, however novice they obviously were.

One of Irene's parries proved too late, coming up to block the strike of an enemy sword a second out of time. Metal slid against metal until her enemy's blade clashed with her cross-guard. She used the opportunity instead to her advantage, slamming her other sword down upon her enemy's and cleanly out of his hands. Within moments she was moving in for the kill, her lightning-quick strikes forcing her enemy and the minotaur Thavron was fighting to press their backs against each other. As Irene pulled one sword back for the killing blow, however, a distinctive sting rippled across her back.

She winced before pivoting to address the other two men still on the attack. One, who had been clad in chainmail and loose robes, must have been a spellcaster; Irene's own chain would have protected her from the gashes had they been physically delivered. The warmth of dripping blood forced her robes to cling to her back in those areas. Gritting her teeth, the warrior-priestess roared a battle cry in praise of the Goddess of Order before lifting her sword and pivoting halfway back to her disarmed quarry. Using her momentum to carry the blade across the front of the corrupt soldier's neck, the man uttered a final desperate blood-filled gurgle before collapsing to the ground.

One down, one to go! Hrothgar finally changed his defensive stance into an offensive one, grabbing his hammer with both of his hands and slamming it into the guardsman's armour. The corrupted guard tried to reach for the air which was knocked out of his lungs, after the dwarf successful hit him into the plexus. The guard bent down and Hrothgar used his opportunity; raising his hammer above his head then finally slamming it down into the opponent's helmet with an amazing force. The guard fell down on his stomach, unconscious.

Hrothgar turned around, brown cloak swirled around him. The path to the gates was left open, so the dwarf started sprinting towards the gate. Buta instantly followed, running beside his master. On Hrothgar's right, where the pig was running, when a guardswoman appeared, wielding a massive battle axe. With a malicious grin on her face, her eyes glistened as she swung with her axe towards the defenseless pig; but the pig's companion was faster. Even though his eyes remained focused on the road ahead of him, he noticed the guardswoman before she aimed for Buta. Changing his course, he faced the woman and darted above the pig, in the same time knocking her axe out of her hands. The dwarf smiled, but he wasn't aware of a counterattack. A fist meet his nose, hitting it with an intense force. Tears appeared on Hrothgar's eyes, from the force of this impact. His leather helmet was still on it's place, since it was covering his skull, but not his face.

Hrothgar already recovered, wanting to swing with his hammer and get rid of this warrior; but suddenly he could feel cold blade sinking into his shoulder. The dwarf gritted his teeth as the dagger went deeper into his skin. The woman grinned, wanting to remove the dagger from his arm and attack him once again. She would have done it, if it wasn't for the hammer which broke her skull at impact. The woman fell on the ground and from the back of her skull blood was flowing into the soil, corrupting the Mother of us all. Hrothgar sweared under his breath, the woman wasn't wearing a helmet, only an armourplate and boots, nor she was defending herself since her left hand was holding the dagger which sank deep into Hrothgar's skin.

The dwarf pulled the dagger out of his arm, dropping it onto the ground. From his wound blood poured, soaking his robes. The pain was bearable, luckily it was his right hand, the weaker one. Hrothgar continued running towards the cave entrance; in front of it, there was a young woman which let a battle cry escape her mouth. She just dealt a lethal blow to a soldier, but already she was dancing with her swords in all of her beauty. Her robes have already been soaked in blood that was dripping across her back, but she seemed not to care, there was no time for pauses. Just next to her, a brown angel was fighting a great minotaur, which carried a massive battleaxe in its hands. Hrothgar frowned while looking at the beast, when finally dashing towards them. The dwarf decided to get rid of the soldiers that were attacking the angel, since he seemed to be a more than capable spearman. Even though his attacks were somewhat slower, the minotaur would back down every now and the, but then attacking the angel with more force than before.

The corrupt soldier shivered as he heard a fearsome screech coming from an unknown source. He just rushed outside the cave and was preparing to attack the angel just few feet away from his with his mace, when a dwarf and a pig appeared. The dwarf was wielding a powerful hammer, with golden wings made on one side and with an engraved dragon head. The soldier parried the blow with his shield and stepped back: the strength this little one possessed was great. Swinging his mace he expected to see how the dwarf falls on the ground, with his skull bleeding. But instead he was presented with a clashing sound of metal, since the dwarf gritted his teeth and raised his weapon to block the attack. Hrothgar gritted his teeth because of the pain that ached in his leg, feeling insecure while standing on it. The soldier whirled with his weapon, attempting to disarm the dwarf. Hrothgar jumped back, to separate the weapons and avoid being disarmed. He slipped and almost fell, but his balance was restored and he successfully parried another blow from the corrupt soldier. A grin appeared on his face, he enjoyed to see the dwarf defending. Though he didn't know that the dwarf was just going to change into an offensive stance, pushing the soldier away from him and swinging with Zavan with an intense force. The blunt side of the hammer hit the soldier's shoulder and the man lost his balance. Hrothgar used this opportunity and took his dagger with his right hand, the wound because of the magical power of the hammer. Closing his eyes and swinging with his hand he slit the guards throat, the man fell on the ground after releasing a gurgling sound.

How many would he have to kill? The dwarf opened his eyes to find out that his gauntlets are covered in blood. Cursing under his breath he put Farish back to its place, in a small sheath which hung on his belt. Turning around, Hrothgar took aim on another soldier that was rushing out of the old guild hall. Sweet Lothlómendil, where are they all coming from? Releasing a loud war cry the dwarf gritted his teeth and rushed towards the soldier, hoping he will play the surprise card correctly.

Hostages needed to be rescued and they haven't even entered the cave. Will they survive? Hrothgar hoped so, as he rushed into a new battle with yet another soldier.