The symbols, etched deep into the sky and burning with a blue fire almost blinding in its sheer grandeur; Ita knew not what they were, but their familiarity felt nearly comforting amongst the tension permeating the air. How long had she and her men been traveling now? Days? It remained convenient that her first target was located along the path she planned to travel with her raiders, along the north face of Ea from the city of Lomedor to Nandgirith, the brutal mountain pass that once, long ago, housed the viciously elegant temple to the fallen Goddess of Chaos.

Of course, they hadn't left Lomedor without taking something with them. Not only had several men and women pledged their allegiance to Ita's cause in an attempt to prove their mettle, but the wiry little man they now carried with them would prove incredibly useful indeed. The archaeologist, tied and gagged while he rode atop one of the raiders' many wargs, specialized in divine artifacts. If there were any in the somewhat large ruin system, he would know what they were and what they did.

Straddling the border of the Anfauglir Desert, Ita urged her warhorse to a stop to survey the immediate distance, lifting her palm to order those behind her to do the same. Just barely jutting out of the loose gravel and gnarled grasses were the half-buried remnants of worn bricks of various heights spanning in nearly all directions. They were here. Other than the presence of Ita's men, the area was largely abandoned save for the odd animal lounging in the midday sun or gentle stir beyond line of sight.

Following a quick scan, Ita wheeled her horse around to face her men, snapping into the stillness, "Untie the archaeologist! No one allows even a single scratch on him until I say so!" One of the nearby soldiers hopped off of his steed and dragged the Lomedorian man off of the massive wolf, sending him crashing down into the dust. A muffled whimper of terror turned into a terrified cry once a Spineslicer cut off the bundle of cloth shoved into his mouth. A deep, hollow rumble filled the air shortly afterward, but the lupine thought little of it.

"Do you know what this place is?" Ita roared into the crowd, pacing through the lines furthest to the front atop her horse. "My ancient enemy, Gayadraug, once rested in this base with his army. You will prove yourself here. I was expecting some sort of resistance, however; but seeing as though the silence is so thick it could be cut with a-" As if coming to life with an ear-shattering bang, the earth ruptured like a geyser of sand and stones, sending panic and pandemonium through the small army.

Dozens rushed to escape the spearlike grasp of two massive claws as they slammed repeatedly upon the spooked soldiers, missing by mere hairlengths to continue and form deep gashes in the earth. Halfway exposed was the visage of a massive worm, circular mouth snapping together in lust for blood. Ita's horse gave an agitated neigh, rushing with the rest of the crowd. "Ready yourselves!" She roared, ripping her longsword out of its sheathe and holding it high. "Forces under Warmaster Charlotte, continue to the ruins and move toward the objective! Protect the archaeologist! Those under my command, take down the worm. We need it immobilized immediately, I don't care how! Once it's dead, move to regroup with the others!"

Within the chaos of the moment, however, the sand worm had managed to spear a single fleeing raider through the leg; even Ita, who was unable to witness the carnage's full extent knew what had happened based on the loud, pained shout. The hulking beast drew him further toward itself before using its second claw to skewer the lightly-armored man through the back of the skull. It was the first casualty of the day, and Ita was certain there would be more. The secondary purpose of the mission was to weed out the weaklings through adversary, leaving only the strongest and most able for the task. It would do its job nicely.

[OOC: Welcome to Ita's Raiders' first raid! If you'd like to join but haven't posted in the signup topic in the RP Requests and Plotting forum, please do so. Like I said, the intent of this topic is for me to decide who I want in my group of raiders. I will be evaluating you not only on how well you handle situations, but your skills in writing, etc. My standards aren't as strict as Phedre's Elite, as Ita's Raiders are merely semi-elite, but I still want quality in my members.

You may choose which group you would like to join, Charlotte's or Ita's. The objectives of Charlotte's group (besides moving underground) will reveal themselves once Charlotte posts. You may post in any order, but try not to post too rapidly so as to leave people in the dust. Try not to kill important things (like the sand worm) in one or too few posts, they're supposed to be difficult targets. Have fun! May the Force Chaos be with you.]

Tithdaeron knew well the trails and tribulations that were characteristic of the Anfauglir Desert. Having spent a good deal of time wandering about it, the creature could be considered a knowledgeable person when it came to surviving the harsh climate. However, little other than experience in battle, harrying situations, and it's own mental build would have prepared or edged off the complete and utter surprise attack that the Chaos Elemental would soon experience along with everyone else.

The mission was simple in nature. A treasure hunt at its most principle form, the entire force was to search for and capture an expert on divine relics. Why they were looking for divine relics was unknown to everyone except Ita, and possibly Charlotte. Tithdaeron secretly suspected Charlotte of plotting against him and the men within the group that had gravitated towards him. There were still those, even though few and far in between, who remembered what it was like to have the killing machine on their side in battle.

So they travelled for days on end, with little rest. Tithdaeron never left Ita's side for more than a few moments the entire time. Acting as her watchdog and a weapon for her to wield. He grew impatient. The helpless man from Lomedor was becoming a more tempting target with each hour that passed in the heat. When they were through with him, Tithdaeron thought to ask Ita if he might have a meal. A treat. Good doggy.

The group came across a set of ruins, and Ita stopped at the front. Examaning it, she saw it good to settle down and search the area. A soldier responded to her order to unbound and him and remove his gag. Not seconds after the soldier finished, did a slight rumble take the earth. Tithdaeron's sense were immediately set on edge. That sound was familiar. But what was it? Perhaps the sand was shifting from the weight and movement of the group.

Instinctively, the creature lowered it's center of gravity. "Do you know what this place is?" asked the lupine. "My ancient enemy, Gayadraug, once rested in this base with his army. You will prove yourself here. I was expecting some sort of resistance, however; but seeing as though the silence is so thick it could be cut with a-"

She was cut off rather rudely by an explosion of sand and rock, gushing into the sky with an ear-piercing report. Tithdaeron wasted no time in turning on his heel and hitting the deck. Debris flew past his head, a chunk of brick impacted the chest of a soldier next to him. A loud ping was heard as it crushed the bronze plate he was wearing, breaking several ribs and compressing his chest. The soldier would soon die from asphyxiation. Tithdaeron laughed. Standing up and dusting himself off, he turned around to see a massive worm being. Its mouth was lined with hundreds of horrid looking teeth, which were clearly visible as it flexed its maw. "Ready yourselves!" Ita shouted. Everyone scrambled.

As the lupine commander gave orders for Charlotte's division to make a break for it, waited for orders on his counterattack. While it was possible for Tithdaeron to join in a direct attack, his specialties were more like that of an artillery piece. Area of effect spells causing widespread damage were his forte, and in this situation were not necessarily the best thing to use on a singular target. Especially when many friendlies were exposed. The Chaos Elemental drew his scimitar, and ignited a cloak of flames as a defensive measure.

He also ignited a ring of fire around Ita. This would discourage the worm from striking against his creator. Tithdaeron reasoned that event though she was immortal (which was unbeknownst to him an erroneus beleif) she would appreciate the gesture. The creature knew his scimitar would be useless against the worm. "Which storm shall I summon upon it Creator?" it asked.

The elemental could call upon a hail storm, a shower of flame, a metor strike, acid rain, and even a sand storm. Tithdaeron did not think that a sandstorm would be much use against the worm, since it was a desert creature. But perhaps the acid would make an effective tool against the fleshy being? At the same time though, it would potentially harm the men as well. Tithdaeron personally did not care if a few people got their faces melted off, but he knew well what the results were for striking against those under Ita's wing.

Charlotte could not help but dislike the desert. She was a creature of icy cold, not this sun-scorched land that had not seen rain in the memory of most. Martin, her ever-trustworthy liege-man strode along as though nothing was wrong. She still had to purchase him a horse, but as per her orders they were conserving water by moving slowly. Well, it sounded good to her, as the horses weren't exerting herself, and the wonderful paper umbrella she'd purchased was shielding Pepper. Dragonfly, her excellent scout lay across Pepper's saddle, fanning herself off with a now-dried leaf.

Her eyes darted over to Tithdaeron. She knew him to be unreliable, and more importantly, a megalomaniac who believed he could usurp her from what she remembered of him. She lead Pepper along with her legs, while holding her dramatic helm at her hip. The single emerald orb glanced over the entirety of their column, rating each soldier. The valkyrie would have half of the elite under her command, providing her with reliable support. She'd rather have Cheysa, but Cheysa was being Cheysa, and thus no where to be found.

"Warmaster Kemensereg, I believe our target nears. I pray you are prepared." Martin stated. Charlotte pulled her hip-flask from Pepper's saddlebag, and drained half of the glass-etching alcohol before handing the flask to Martin. The mercenary sniffed the liquid tentatively, then judged it to be the substance used to etch glass before pushing it back to her with a frown. Charlotte shrugged, and poked the fairy.

"Dragonfly, get into the air and provide scouting. Be careful, however, as the enemy here is rather...hungry, if you catch my meaning." Charlotte explained, the horrific calm in her voice managing to punctuate her meaning beyond effectively. Dragonfly darted into the air even as the action started. A sandworm burst from the ground, shaking even Pepper. A scream pierced the air, and Charlotte rammed her helmet onto her head. She listened to Ita's commands as she dismounted Pepper, and took off at a run for the entry.

"All those who are under my command, to the maw of Gayadraug's last supporters! Let us destroy these heretics for the glory of the Reckless! Listen to my orders, and be wary, the opponents we fight on this day are not of the organi--Tithdaeron, do not ask for which spell you are to cast, cast it! This is not a game of chess!" Charlotte shouted, ending her with her voice barely above a mutter. She crossed the burning hot sands at a moderate jog, and drew her tremendous blade from her back. The soldier lowered her shoulder and increased her running speed as she approached the door, and bulled straight into it.

With a tremendous crash it was torn open, ancient wood torn from ancient hinges. Planks hurtled around the room haphazardly, and they were echoed by shouts and shrieks. Charlotte froze momentarily, taking her time to observe the scene that unfurled before her. A behemoth antlion lay torn to shreds by claws, and crude spears and axes lay embedded within it. What lay around it was a field of lupine corpses, preserved in no small part thanks to the disturbing amounts of heat.

A roar ripped from a throat far closer to her, and as the distracted commander glanced towards the source she recoiled. A gray lupine hurtled towards her, leaving its four-legged sprint to become a furry projectile. Charlotte steeled herself, and struggled to bring her blade into the proper position to impale the beast as a halberd rocketed over her shoulder and straight into the creature's gut. More stains of blood lit upon the ground as the insane creature clawed at the wooden haft. Charlotte rushed forwards and brought her blade into the creature's skull with a tremendous swing. Blood spurted across the ground, and it fell limply from the halberd. Martin strolled forwards, followed by the ten elite that Charlotte had brought with her.

More freakish howls filled her hearing, and a whole pack of crazed lupines dashed down the hall towards them. The elite murmured to each other in an excited frenzy of aduniac, and brought out their own battle weapons. Charlotte waited, holding her forearm up vertically, the back of her hand signifying to wait to her men. The enemy lupines neared, foam on their jaws and shrieking a language Charlotte had no knowledge of. The one-eyed woman gaged the proper distance, and dropped her hand. The elite and Martin counter-charged as the lupines crossed the field of corpses, slowing their gait to keep their footing. They berserked the moment they realized their feast was coming to them, and barely left the field of corpses as the counter charge struck them.

The lupine mob found the whole situation utterly shifted on to the hands of the invaders, and more howls and barks echoed from the mob. Charlotte turned about to face the door, and began to shout.

"To the line! Move! Move! Prove yourself to me, and you've pretty much proved yourself to Ita herself!" The valkyrie ordered. She pivoted and charged into the battle herself, bringing down the blade of bloodshed to shatter the back of a lupine who was attempting to tear the helm from a prone elite.

They had been travelling through the desert for days now and many of the soldiers who rode horses looked bored out of their mind. Alkar thought they were idiots, if you aren't leader in a group then it is dishonorable to ride a horse while they do. He jogged alongside the horses keeping close to Charlotte who he had chosen to seek as his master. He would not fail her and more importantly he would not let that Martin fellow show him up.

There was an being he noticed to be an elemental that hung so close to Ita that he thought she could probably hear his irritating breathing. The elemental struck him as a little bit on the vicious side he kept looking towards the archaelogist and his eyes revealed that he would give anything to snap his jaws closed on the mans head.

Alkar had not been on a raid like this for many a month and had been anxious to leave when they were in the city but now as he ran along right behind Charlotte he wished that they could have skipped the long journey across the sands and just arrived at the destination. Unfortunately that never happened to him he always had to walk or run to where ever it was he wanted to go.

He had benn paying so little attention to what was going on around him that he only just realized where they were. "Untie the archaeologist! No one allows even a single scratch on him until I say so!". Alkar saw one of the simple men whom he knew to be along on this trip only for the money and not the sweetness of the raid heading to carry out Ita's orders. He stepped in front of the man after he had taken the Archaeologist of his horse and kicked him over "You think yourself worthy to carry out our mistress's orders? Bugger off you insulant worm!".

Alkar bent down and picked the Archaelogist up off the ground"You're with me, got it!" The man nodded his head nervously and just followed Alkar back towards Charlotte. Just as he took his first few steps he felt the ground give off a terrible tremor. He waited tense as a tiger on the hunt. Thats when the beast came, ripping out of the ground was an enormous worm. Its mouth was filled to the brim with sharp looking teeth and he knew it wasn't there to give them a tour of the ruins.

The Lupine commander told them to ready themselves as the worm took its first victim. Alkar stood there awaiting his orders uncertain of if he was to fight or not. "Forces under Warmaster Charlotte, continue to the ruins and move toward the objective! Protect the archaeologist! Those under my command, take down the worm. We need it immobilized immediately, I don't care how! Once it's dead, move to regroup with the others!"

Alkar then heard Charlottes command and was about to head off when he realized the Archaeologist was standing stock still within the worms attack range. He ran forward bending as he approached the man and quickly scooped him up off the ground running towards the temporary shelter of the ruins. He got there as Charlotte smashed her sword through the head of a Gray Lupine, she and the others engaged a small force of enemies as he entered the building he was looking for a place to put his charge when an enemy broke through the throng and noticed his pressence. Alkar put th man down in the corner and faced his opponent.

The Lupine rushed him, its fur was a dark brownish colour that reminded him of tree bark but, that wasn't his main concern. It's claws were sailing towards his face as he brought his sword up to block it's right arm. The lupine started to bring back it's other arm and Alkar realised this would be his end unless he killed his enemy. He lashed out with his left leg and smashed one its shins breaking it. The beast let out a yelp and for a split second let its gaurd down. Alkar stabbed his sword into it's forehead and then twisted it to the right.

His foe delt with Alkar turned back to the Archaeologist "YOU NEARLY GOT ME KILLED YOU INSULANT SCUM!"

The desert sun razed the earth below, the air shimmering in the heat. Scorched ground laid cracked as the barren wasteland continued long past the horizon giving little hope for a brief respite from the unbearable heat. Known for its desiccating winds and inhospitable terrain, no sane person would think of it as a good place. However, Pandora was never considered to be quite the sane type of person, especially when a bit of coin or adrenaline was involved.

Cursing under her breath, the only reason the female bounty hunter had long ago stopped incessantly complaining of the heat was that any moisture that belonged to her throat had long been stolen by the desert’s blazing heat. Sweat poured down her body in insane amounts, her hair matted with condensation, only to quickly evaporate in the constant heat. She noted with a slight degree of satisfaction that she was not lugging around extra weight in armor, as she took another swig of water from a small skin at her side, not daring to waste any of the precious liquid despite the grit that filled the cavities of her mouth. Yet the thrill that coursed through her veins seemed to ignore the terrible conditions around her.

It had been quite long since she had participated upon any raid. Far too long. Yet it was oddly curious how Pandora was a singular female among the male dominated raiders, except for the leaders, both females. Yet little mattered when Pandora had already proven her usefulness in capturing the small scrawny bounty that had allowed her to join the raid.

Wiping off another bead of sweat from her forward, the loud panting of a rather large hound suddenly came to her ears, as she noticed the white hound that plodded along silently by her side, white flecks of saliva dripping from its jaw. Its eyes glinted scarlet, and it glanced from side to side hungrily for prey. There were some dogs which, when you met them, reminded you that, despite thousands of years of man-made evolution, every dog was still only two meals away from being a wolf. These dogs advanced deliberately, purposefully, the wilderness made flesh, their teeth yellow, their breath a-stink This dog was one of those types. It was already growling, and the growl was a low, rumbling snarl of spring-coiled menace, the sort of growl that starts in the back of one throat and ends up in someone else's. Saliva dripped from its jaws and sizzled on the sand. It took a few steps forward, and sniffed the sullen air.
Its ears flicked up.

However, before Pandora could question what had happened, the strong voice of a rather emaciated lupine lit up the air, cutting through the dull silence. "Do you know what this place is?" My ancient enemy, Gayadraug, once rested in this base with his army. You will prove yourself here. I was expecting some sort of resistance, however; but seeing as though the silence is so thick it could be cut with a-" however before Ita could finish her speech, a strong rumble caused the ground to shake as a set of claws erupted from the ground, spearing one raider in the leg.

Immediately, years of orkish training clicked in Pandora’s mind, her blade escaping the scabbard at her back as Ita began throwing orders. However in the commotion, Pandora’s mind could only trace faint phrases of Ita’s orders the wind causing it to sound like a garbled series of gibberish. “…Take down the worm…" was the only audible thing which Pandora heard as a small grin appeared on her porcelain face.

However, a shadow soon covered her view as a massive claw began to snake its way towards her torso. “Oh no ye dunt ye mangy grub!” screamed Pandora as she slashed violently through the air, a claw falling upon the ground before her, vapor rising from its wound. Any normal blade would have been bounced back, yet it was only the strength of the mithril infused sword that allowed her to cleave the claw off. However, Pandora would soon regret that as a screech came from the sand worm, causing it to become further infuriated. However, in Pandora’s mind she was already keeping score. Her – 1. Grub – 0.

Chaos gave way to some semblance of organization as Charlotte's forces quickly broke from the rest of the group to move toward the interior of the ruins. Ita briefly flicked her golden gaze across the thirty-or-so men now focused on the worm, ten of which being noticeably apart of her small elite force.

The Warg Riders of Nandgirith had served her with unwavering loyalty throughout nearly the entire span of her past deityhood, hardened veterans whose power and intelligence was fearful. But their low numbers still made it necessary to have significant support. With any luck, the new recruits that survived would someday grow to the elite power necessary to challenge the gods' forces themselves.

The sand worm gave a mighty shriek, craning its head into the air and lifting a stump of a claw into the sky. Cleanly chopped in half, the once-menacing tool of destruction now bubbled slightly in the heat, letting off small clouds of steam from the wound. It pivoted, arching its long body to dig its skull once more into the sand. Within moments, the only sign of the creature remaining was the same hollow rumbling that plagued the group before its appearance.

Ita cursed to herself, instantly digging her heels into the sides of her horse Paprika. "Spread out and stay moving, you fools!" Bellowed the fallen goddess, tearing along the outskirts of the cluster of raiders like a sheepdog to its flock.

In her mind, perhaps, the repeated pounding of soldiers' feet upon the ground would confuse the hidden but obviously territorial worm, making it more difficult to choose a devastating path of reentry out of the ground. The rumble became louder now, as if an earthquake was moving under the group just beneath the surface. Sand, earth and loose gravel ruptured upwards to compensate for its mass, though helping make its trail more obvious.

Paprika charged onward at a full gallop, just barely escaping the only functioning claw as it broke the surface just beneath him. Ita snorted, slowing slightly and turning into the rest of the crowd to blend with their own presence. The claw retreated back into the sand, entire creature diving down to mask its direction.

"Spellcasters, ready any immobilization spells you have! Keep the bastard in one place, for everyone's sake." The sand worm dove out of the ground in a low arcing path, raising its two claws to strike any who came near. Its half-missing appendage became a bludgeon, knocking aside careless soldiers and tripping a single riderless warg before disappearing again. Ita growled, watching the ground carefully for signs of further emergences.


The archaeologist, eyes wide with fear, hesitantly was "escorted" by the particularly harsh elf through the entrance to the ruins and placed in the corner where the rest would fight. How could he have allowed himself to be kidnapped like this, for such a malicious cause? Looking down at the ropes tied tightly around his hands, he idly began working them with his teeth in an attempt to start loosening their ties.

Surely he would not be noticed, as the raiders around them were busy engaging various lupines that had emerged from the interior of the ruins. Old descendant of servants of Gayadraug, he knew, driven just as crazed as when their divine leader and creator had left all those ages ago. And the deeper they went, the more grotesque and powerful their enemies would become.

[OOC: I'm loving this topic so much I posted again already! Yay! Just remember that I'm not a DM; you can go ahead and post whenever you want without me posting. Usually I'll only post to advance the objectives or what have you. Also, you may control the sand worm's actions if you'd like (such as dives, emergences, attacks, etc.), just don't kill it yet. The thing's still got some fight left in 'im.]

Vahn stood waiting in the group, he was in his human from, he wore a shirt underneath his Crude chainmail, in his right hand he held his trusty axe and in his left his scimitar. The former deity wouldn't reckonize Vahn in his human form, he was completly different. "Forces under Warmaster Charlotte, continue to the ruins and move toward the objective! Protect the archaeologist! Those under my command, take down the worm. We need it immobilized immediately, I don't care how! Once it's dead, move to regroup with the others!". Vahn heard the orders from Ita, the group was spilt into two parts, Vahn choose to stay and fight with Ita. Vahn looked at the sand worm, suddenly it jumped up infront of him.

Vahn jumped out of the way as it dived down infront of him. It tried again, it sent a sand wave covering Vahn. He appeared to have been knocked down by the sandworm. But he hadn't. Now in his place was a Black Fourteen foot two lupine, he was strong, bloodthrisy and had the look of the devil. It the forest he appeared to be a shadow, but in the desert you could see all of his features, something that Ita wouldn't have been able to see in the Misty forest. Vahn holstered both his weapons, he lunged at the beast. His large claws dug into the beast, it cryed in pain as he dug depped but it was getting harder for Vahn to hold on. The sandworm tried to shake Vahn off, so vahn bite the sand worm with his powerfull jaw.

The beast screamed louder, Vahn was thrown to the ground. A chunk of the sandworm dropped to the ground, the beast dived into the ground again with a trail of blood following it. Vahn hit the ground, He picked himself up like it was a tiny bump to the arm. Vahn let out a bloodcurdling roar, the beast had fallen victim to one of his attacks. His eyes darted to a man running away. "Dumb humans. Always run away from a fight" Vahn said, his voice was deep and dark. He darted again to Ita, the morning he met her had changed his life. He wasn't gaining his strength to prepare for war, his was helping bring ita back to power.

Vahn grabbed his axe, it felt like a stick in his hand. Vahn studied the others, he was the tallest out of them. He felt the blood dry on his lips, they gave him a warm feeling as he searched for the sandworm. He could hear it below, it was hiding. Vahn stood up on his two hind legs, his ears pricked up and his head turned to the direction of the noise. He was looking straight at Charlottes group who was fighting a group of Lupines, how he hated fellow lupines being killied. But they were enemies of Ita, so that made them an enemy of him. His mind was darted back to reality. The sandworm had struck again, it had struck again, killing a human. It ripped it apart and ate it in one go. The sound of the mans bones breaking brought a suddenly jolt of excitement, vahn would enjoy killing this beast. Even if it meant getting hurt.

The sandworm dived down to the ground again. "Come out and fight you bloody beast" Vahn snarled. It was followed by another bloodcurdling roar. Vahn was sick of waiting, he would take chase. Vahn ran after the sandworm on all fours, he would follow it using his senses. Adrenaline pumped through his body as he ran, he hadn't had an exciting chase like this in months. Vahn growled as he ran, he darted and leaped over holes. The beast made a turn and was heading straight towards Ita, the former goddess of Chaos.

As the men scattered to reduce the chance of being eaten, Tithdaeron was quickly moving at random just the same. Juking left then right, making a beeline for where the chaos elemental supposed the worm's next exit point from the sand beneath would be. So far two other soldiers in the group had been able to damage it significantly, one removed an appendage from the worm. The other made a sizeable wound in it's fleshy body. Ita did not give any orders to Tithdaeron as to weather or not he should bring in a storm.

If she had decided against it by now, it was too late. The safety latch had come undone in the chaos elemental's mind. The destruction, mayhem, and discord filled the creatures senses with a strange brew of ecstasy and rage. The killing machine was warming up. If not put under check soon enough, it was liable to start attacking it's own allies.

Luckily, there was a bigger threat abroad and that put the death of the desert worm on the top if Tithdaeron's priorities list. Tithdaeron skidded to a halt in the hot sand and whirled about as the rumbling noise came ever closer. Ita the Reckless was behind him, trying to gain her bearings. A rushing sonic boom, and then a instant of silence as the worm exploded from beneath the sand only ten feet in front of the elemental.

Reflexively, it hopped back and drew it's scimitar. Attached to Tithdaerons left hand was his trusty katar, which sprung from its sheath on his forearm to point eight inches beyond his fist. The creature released a blood curdling roar and launched forth, any concern for it's own safety now abandoned. The master was not to be touched.

Running at full speed, the elemental threw off his black robes to reveal a bare muscular chest that shimmered with sweat in the sunlight. Sand being kicked up from all the chaos stuck to him. Leaping forward with arms outstretched, the worm moved to bat him aside with it's might head. The chaos elemental latched onto the underside of the gaping maw, and dug it's katar deep into the flesh to anchor to the beast.

Reigniting his cloak of flames, close fire quickly began to burn the worm's flesh. Tithdaeron's right hand was a flurry as he repeatedly slashed and stabbed, all the while the worm was shaking rapidly trying to dislodge the attacker. Before long, the elemental had worked a hole that could be peered through in the worms flesh.

Confused over the pain, the monster quickly began a retreat back to the sands. As the massive length rushed downwards, Tithdaeron ripped out the katar and jumped away. Tumbling through the sand, he came to rest on his face. Quickly he rose his head and coughed blood and sand. Wiping it from his mouth, the elemental tried to get to his feet but a immense bolt of pain forced him back down.

During the fall, he had broken four ribs. Two over his heart, on over his right lung, and one near his liver. Realizing his immobilization, the elemental was striken with fear. Simply shapeshifting would only rearrange the injuries, not heal them. Near the back of the battlefield there were other mages casting spells. Perhaps one had healing ability? Tithdaeron hoped so. "Where I see, there I may go."

With those words, Tithdaeron disapeared and then reapeared in the midst of the group. "Heal me!" he demanded, as his body twisted in pain. The berserk had been usurped, but not for long.

Chaos. Discord. Turmoil. All flourished within the desert sands outside of Gayadraug's former stronghold as countless warriors scattered to the directions of the wind, their minds returning to the primal instincts of survival.

Sweat no longer drained down Pandora's back as adrenaline rushed through her body, her feet lightly tapping against the sand beneath her desperately hoping to not summon the wrath of the sand worm. Yet a nagging feeling coursed through her thoughts as more and more warriors began to fall to the sand worm's rage. Their current tactics would not work as the over-sized insect continued to burrow through the Raider's sparse ranks.

Ideas tried to cut through her mind as the warrior instinct she held began to kick in after months of dormancy. Her keen violet eyes immediately focused a small boulder that lay but twenty paces from her current position. Looking to her right, she immediately saw a small huddle of chaos mages, scarlet lightning sparkling against their palms, desperately trying to determine where the worm would next end up.

Raising her mithril blade into the air, Pandora began to rally the mages forward, their feet blurring as their desperately rushed towards her, their red pupils bloodshot with desperate desires to rid themselves of the worm. "Yooz fools! Ye gots ta get ter higha ground!" screamed Pandora pointing towards the boulder. "Den yooz can blast dat fing ter bits!"

At first the mages merely blinked their minds attempting to decode whatever dialect of Common had escaped her mind before they realized what she wanted, the men clamoring to the top of the boulder just as the ground beneath Pandora buckled, the sand worm creating ripples of sand throwing her back. Immediately, the berserker was dazed as stars began to circle her vision, her body immediately stunned before a hand rested on her. With a small scream, Pandora immediately saw the wounded body of another mage, his body covered with whatever goo filled the insides of the worm. At first a small look of pity crept against her narrow lips before the man screamed, demanding that he was to be healed. Her small frown instantly transformed to a glare as she nodded, using whatever strength she had to throw the man over her shoulders. "Yeh magicks men, git dis fool offa me shoulda and heal 'im. Den get teh blastin' tha fuggin' worm!"

With a small pant, Pandora was suddenly taken aback as the ground began to split, the worm heading straight towards her obviously still angry over its missing claw. For once, fear filled Pandora's mind as the mages above her attempted to slow down the creature. With a small roar, Pandora leaped as the worm blasted through the ground, narrowly missing its mouthful of razor sharp teeth. With a shrieking war cry, Pandora landed her blade into the creature's body forming something which to keep a hold of as the worm shrieked in pain and confusion. Revealing a long leather whip from her waist, Pandora created a sharp snap in the air as the whip wrapped around the worm's circumference forming a rough excuse of a harness. With a slight yell of ecstasy, Pandora soon found herself literally riding the creature, blood coating her entire clothes as her blade still found itself in the body of the animal her knuckles white as she kept her grip upon the "harness."

With a huge push upward, the sandworm once again dove back into the ground, Pandora's lithe figure still atop it as she rode the sandworm deep below the ground. Immediately darkness consumed her sight as her mind shifted into a new state of mind, her thoughts infusing with the sandworm. Searching its mind, fear suddenly filled its thoughts as she brought image upon image of whatever nightmare regarding the darkness she could possibly imagine into its simple mind. With a ear splitting shriek, Pandora and the sandworm once again blasted out of the sand, its thoughts completely terrified of burrowing back towards the darkness.

Unfortunately was a slight buck of its torso, the worm soon dislodge Pandora's blade from its back, causing the orc-raised berserker to fly off, knocking a warg-mounted orc off of its mount. Rolling to her knees, Pandora attempted rise but failed as her body went into a spasm of coughing, blood splattering against the desert sands. Wincing, she touched her sides before screaming out in pain, collapsing again as the orc placed her alongside his mount, riding away before the sandworm could return to prey upon her weakened body. "She needs healing" ordered the orc as he placed her prone body upon the boulder before regrouping with the rest of his men.

((OOC: Methinks that anyone with the avenger spell should benefit from this))

The journey across the desert had had more of an effect upon the Minotaur that walked amongst Ita's forces than many of the others. The Minotaur in question, a specimen known as Wulfdor, was constantly returning to the supply wagon demanding water, as his body, more bulky and muscular than most, demanded constant maintenance in order to be at full strength; being out in the middle of the desert simply made that point even clearer to Wulfdor. He had been grunting and mumbling to himself for most the journey, not interacting with many of the others, most of the talking he did being with the aforementioned supply wagon's master. Many of the others seemed to wish to avoid him to; it was not an uncommon reaction to having a Minotaur in your midst. Wulfdor did not care much for attention, anyway. He was there as part of the small army due to one thing alone; prestige. Though nowhere near as intelligent as the majority of Arda, Wulfdor had enough sense about him to tell when one was headed for greatness, and this Ita and her band seemed just that, and Wulfdor wanted to be a part of it. The prestige, the rewards, and the thrill of constant battle was all the Minotaur had ever desired from life, as it had been all he had ever been brought up to know; his clan was of the more savage variety of half-man half-bull.

When they arrived at their destination, and the sand burst open to release a huge worm, Wulfdor had prepared himself for the fight, but finding that most of those who were stood around him headed off with the one called Charlotte, at Ita's behest, he guessed that he was supposed to be with that group too, and so moved off with them, keeping his mace held aloft as he did, though. When he reached their location, Charlotte had already led the charge inside, but Wulfdor could smell the danger emanating from the halls, but said nothing; it was too late now anyway and he had no real urge to talk when battle was so imminently close. Entering the deserted place as the last of the group, the Minotaur saw their commander, Charlotte, take down what looked like a Gray Lupine, before the fight broke out with several others. Seizing the chance, the Minotaur raised his arms up in the air and bellowed a Minotaur's warcry that rivaled the combined roars of the lupines, before charging forwards with the rest of them. Following closely behind Charlotte's elite as they clashed with the lupine mob, Wulfdor swung his mace into the first beast to emerge from behind them.

The lupine was quick, however, and in its berserker-like rush ducked under the Minotaur's strike and pounced on his back, its claws digging into the flesh but not piercing thanks to the tough skin reminiscent of all Minotaurs. Wulfdor did not give the fight so lightly, however, and with a mighty throw he managed to cast his foe off of his back and onto the ground before him. Stamping down with his large right foot, Wulfdor slammed it into the fallen lupine's chest, causing the crazed beast to cough up a nasty blackish-red blood before attempting to crawl back. Wulfdor did not allow him to get far, however, and brought his mace flying down to collide with the wolf's skull, a sticky crack resounding across the battle as a result. Satisfied, Wulfdor slammed his fists into his chest and let out a cry of victory, but it was cut short by a furry blur suddenly shooting out of the darkness and straight into the Minotaur, knocking him backwards to slam into a wall. Temporarily winded by the full force of the second lupine tackling him as it did, Wulfdor could barely react in time to stop the wolf-beast tearing at his face with its jaws, and only just placed his hands in the way to stop it; he was now holding back the full strength of the lupine's jaws with his hands, one on the upper jaw and the other on the lower. This reaction, however, cost the Minotaur his mace, however, which fell down to the ground beneath them with a clank.

As bull and wolf struggled against one another in a test of strength, the lupine soon clued in to the fact that its claw-arms were free, and it stabbed them into the sides of the Minotaur. Letting out a huge cry of pain, Wulfdor managed to throw his attacker off of him, before clutching his sides in agony. The lupine, smelling the blood of its enemy on its claws, went even more berserk than before, and pushed itself off of the ground to fly at Wulfdor once more. With a swing of his arm, Wulfdor's fist collided with the lupine's face mid-air, and brought it crashing down. Before he could do anymore, it was up again, and soon the two were fighting on more equal ground. The two began swinging punches and claws at one another, each taking pain and wounds as they struggled and wrestled across the battle. One moment would have Wulfdor pinning the lupine to the ground, preparing to tear its throat out, when the next minute, it would have used its agility to scramble away and pull itself on to the Minotaur's back, clawing at the tough skin on his skull until it was thrown away once more. By the time they prepared to exchange their final blows, both were badly wounded, but Wulfdor, equally enraged and berserk as his lupine opponent, noted that the wolf had come off worse. With a cry, the Minotaur began to charge towards his enemy, who roared and started its own rush.

When they were within yards of each other, the lupine made its third and final leap into the air, its claws braced to sink into the Minotaur's flesh, but this time Wulfdor was ready. Letting out a roar, he stabbed his head upwards, and soon felt the piercing of flesh and heard the pained dying groans of a wolf. Two legs dangled in front of the Minotaur's eyes and Wulfdor knew it had worked; the lupine was impaled upon the Minotaur's mighty horns. With a second victory cry of the battle, Wulfdor removed the dead wolf with a shove of his hands, knocking the body to the ground unceremoniously. Turning back around, Wulfdor grabbed a lupine from behind as it made to attack one of Charlotte's elite; whether the elite noticed this, the Minotaur did not know. Spinning the lupine's agile frame around, Wulfdor then threw it across the hall to land somewhere amidst the fighting and out of the Minotaur's sight; hopefully it had soon been crushed. With two, and possibly three, enemies to his count so far, Wulfdor deemed his record acceptable to that point, and began scouting for his next opponent.

The sand worm, beaten and listing, was slower now, spending less time attacking on the surface and more underground gathering itself. A chunk of flesh was now gone from its side and numerous burns, slashes and puncture wounds rippled across its length. At first these sustained injuries escalated its rage, but their true effects were catching up to it. Half-dried blood mixed with sand and dirt formed spiderweb patterns across its hide, the exposed flesh around it turning red and puffy with the beginnings of infection. Pain wracked its every movement but it mindlessly continued in its attempted slaughter, determined to drive the interlopers back.

Ita tore through the crowds atop Paprika in a gallop, barking occasional orders to maintain organization and focus. Her eyes were on the objective now, though; the worm's head was hers, and she was hellbent on stringing its teeth into a necklace. The disruption of sand and earth formed a noticeable trail that she followed with a slowly-gaining speed. It was only a matter of time before it would rise again, she knew. And when that happened, the ugly bastard was hers.

As she trailed it, however, her vision became oddly skewed. The world took on a dominating lavender tint, contrast between light and dark strengthening to an almost unbearable level. Despite the abnormality, she stayed focused on the ground in front of her. Then, in mere seconds, the worm burst from the ground once more. It instantly whipped its head around as a bludgeon, painfully swinging its limbs about to fend off anyone near. The lupine jerked back on her horse's reigns, sending him into a siding stop mere yards from the towering beast. Within the purple taint that dominated her world, a glowing black symbol materialized upon the ground just under the looming beast.

Her attack hesitated, the former goddess studying it closely. What were these... things that permeated nearly all aspects of her vision? All of the symbols were different in composition, and radiated various but very vague emotions from them. Upon her concentration, a massive string of foreign, incomprehensible words ran through her mind uncontrolled and unintended. Mind overstimulated, Ita's eyes widened to their full capacity, her face slack-jawed and blank. Colors returned to the world, and an overpowering boom filled the air shortly after. A column of arcing light followed, crashing down vertically upon the worm and coming to rest where the black symbol once stood.

Ita snapped out of her momentary trance, taken aback by the spell she had inadvertently cast. The worm was now roaring in pain, a burning hole etched through its body from the lightning bolt summoned. Had her aim been more centered, it could have possibly pierced its skull or spine and moved down to strike the killing blow. Desperate for continued survival, the beast turned and tunneled back into the ground. The world shook briefly from its reentry, then silence.

A still pause permeated the small army. Few moved, and less breathed. It was dead? She actually killed it? "Regroup! Heal the wounded, collect the dead! Pile them outside the ruins. We'll move on from there to rejoin with the Warmaster's group." Her orders tore through the silence, followed by the soft beat of Paprika's trotting hooves upon the sand in the direction of the destroyed door someone had burst through to enter the complex. The words, however, flooded through her mind repeatedly. Ita forced them aside, confident they were unimportant to the greater mission.

Then, all hell broke loose. Again.

Ita whirled her upper torso around to behold the sand worm once more, emerging vertically from the ground with a single soldier, lower half already inside its jaws, begging for help. In a single gulp it swallowed the man whole before continuing on to make its last stand. The worm drove itself into a frenzy, diving fully out of the ground with its claws directing its slide through the small army. The end of its tail thrashed violently in all directions as it slithered, its goal ultimately making its way in the direction of the isolated Ita. The lupine wheeled Paprika around to face it.

The near-fatally wounded creature was much clumsier when completely on land, but it was determined and focused completely. Gargling shrieks and roars it let forth from its mouth, saliva and blood spurting from between each deathly sharp tooth. The lupine quickly scanned her surroundings for a possible advantage. Once more, words and symbols violently ran through her mind. A single large symbol appeared, in Ita's mind, upon the sand worm's head between its two sideways-facing emerald-green eyes.

Within moments of her concentration upon it, the ground around the moving beast began to rumble. From several different anchor points hardened chains emerged, cutting through the air to wrap around the brute in tight interlocking coils. It screeched, thrashing violently to escape the spell's immobilizing influence but quickly growing too weak and wounded to do so.

"Checkmate," Ita mumbled offhandedly.



I have to get out of here. The archaeologist frantically scanned the carnage that unfolded before him; swarms of crazed wolfmen were now pouring out of the ruins, launching themselves at wolf-riding plate-armored warriors. In his distraction a single brute had pulled itself into a sprint toward him, but was quickly intercepted by the crashing bash of a shield held by one of the elite. Adrenaline coursed through his veins, and he tried his best not to scream. Struggling to his feet with shaking hands and knees, he braced himself against the corner, looking for a possible out. The extensive fighting restricted him well, all except a small pathway to his left. Without thinking, he bolted through the shadows for the possible exit, trying his best to blend with the chaos and keep from becoming re-captured.

[OOC: So the worm is basically a sitting duck now. Go ahead and do what you'd like to it now, and my next post will announce its death once and for all. Great job, Ita's group! I decided that instead of giving you another "turn" like I'd planned, I'd get right to moving on. Believe me, you guys will be fighting things a lot harder than a silly little sand worm once we get deeper in the ruins. :p]

OOC: Thanks for the allowing me to use my idea Ita... I know it makes the story more complicated, but thats the fun part.

Alkar had taken down another two of the Lupines by the time the battle was reaching it's half way point. He had a few cuts and scratches from the claws of his opponents but generally he had managed to get rid of them quickly. He jumped back to take out a Lupine who was head for his charge. He didn't bother with taking in the features of the beast, he stabbed at it hitting its thigh. The Lupine knocked him into the air so as to get by him, but he had no intention of losing to this stupid mutt. He gripped its fore arm as he flew back pulling it into the wall with him. He swung his katana downwards as heavily as he could the blade flying straight at its face. There was a sickening crunch as his foe let out a last yelp.

He was about to jump back into the battle when he noticed something, the archaeologist was running towards a door near the far wall. "Charlotte the Archaeologist is escaping!" Alkar ran straight after him into the passageway. The floor was all uneven, that was when the tile he stepped on sank in. As he tripped through into the room tackling his charge he looked back. Another troop was running through the passage towards them and he was closely followed by one of their Lupine foes. The man was tripped by beast falling face first to the stones.

The wolf fed on him as the roof quickly slid down, the mans screams were horrible, but Alkar didn't dare move. A the roof slid down the Lupine yelped a little and then they heard a bone crunching series of sounds that made the archaeologist flinch.Nobody had managed to get through with them they were on their own. Alkar stood up and looked around they were in a long hall. The walls were made of sandstone slabs that seemed to radiate power. In the middle of the room there was a large pit with an unstable looking bridge that stretched across it and just before the bridge was a pedestal with a strange form of writing Alkar didnt understand. "Hey you, you wanna live to see another day? Then decipher that there pedestal." The man nodded and went about his work nervously.

Alkar continued his scan of the room. The roof sloped upwards in a dome formation with an ancient chandelier hanging form the roof which was providing them with their light. Walking far away from the pedestal he took a quick peek into the pit, at the bottom of the pit was a small pack of snarling Lupine. That's just wonderful he thought, if I wanna die I'll jump down there. He sighed and walked back to the nervous little man who was muttering to himself in front of the pedestal. "Well my little friend whats's the verdict?". The little man was tittering to himself and trying to explain, he was obviously a little shocked about the days events. He stopped and took in a few deep breaths. "It says that we are in the entrance of a maze sir. It also says that you cannot enter or exit this maze using magic. Other than that it just states that all who travel this path die.".

Alkar looked at him and then sighed. He stood up and walked towards the bridge. He crossed it draggin the stupid man with him, as they stepped off the bridge there was a loud cracking noise. He felt the ground shift beneath his feet as if the ground was slowly dissappearing. He noticed that they were all of a sudden standing on a slope, a slope that was heading towards the bottom of the pit and those darling wolves that had been at the bottom. He grabbed the mans hand and pulled him runnin up the slop as the door at the top started to shut slowly."RUN FASTER!" He yelled as they were approaching the door. Then the door stopped closing at the halfway point and the floor gave a huge shake. The archaeologist made it to the top and Alkar jumped forwards as the ground underneath him completely collapsed. He pulled himself up and sat there to rest for a few minutes with the other man.

Nearly crushed and rib cage turned asunder, Tithdaeron was forced to watch from his prone position at a distance as the goings on carved out before him. The foolish mages next to him were distracted with guessing the worm's path to pay any attention to him, no matter how much he yelled at them. Granted, he couldn't yell too loud due to the fact that one of the creature's lungs were crushed. Curses! Damn them all! That monstrous worm was still wriggling about in the sand and dirt, popping up here and there to devour the men! Before long there wouldn't be any left.

Tithdaeron knew he could survive in the desert, but that didn't mean losing the force to that magnitude wouldn't make him vulnerable. From what he understood, the whole of them were being hunted by Lothlomendil in some sort of sick game. What it was like to be the prey, rather than the predator. Truly an interesting prospect.

He took a few deep, blood laden breaths and calmed himself slightly. Taking up a fistfull of rocks and sand, the elemental tossed them at the group of mages with indignation. The rocks pelted their faces and chests, and some sand got in their eyes. Annoyed, they turned to acheive justice upon the offender, but at the sit of Tithdaeron decided it better not to irk him any more. "My ribcage is broken! Have any of you healing ability?" he questioned them. They stood their pondering it over. "Fools! If I ever rise I will tear your eyes out!"

The threat was sufficient motivation, and two of them quickly came to his side and laid their hands upon him. A cool soothing feeling took over the injured creature and he felt his bones slowly move back into place, and then mend to their counterparts. The lung slowly re-inflated, affording him full draw of breath. However, the blood was still riddled about inside, and the chaos elemental coughed up a gout of it. Copper taste filled his mouth, but he did not care. Spitting some of the excess out, he got to his feat just in time to see a lightning strike connect with the erect worm.

Screaming in abject horror and pain, the worm jerked this way and that as the electricity course through it's body. It was a good hit, but not a direct one. Where did that come from? Right in front of the worm was Ita on her mount, acting very strangely. Did she do that? Awe struck, the elemental looked about for something else to use on the worm. It had dug under the ground yet again, and seemed to be gone.

Tithdaeron put himself at ease. It finally retreated. "Your eyes are no longer forfeit..." he commented. The mages breathed sighs of relief. Spoken to soon, in true unlucky fashion. The worm burst from the ground yet again, and broke across the sands in full speed towards Ita. Tithdaeron started, and teleported next to his creator. When he reached her, the worm was being bound by magical chains. Straining against the bonds but to tired and wounded to do any good, it was filled with rage and terror.

The chaos elemental smiled. He had an idea. Looking around for something suitable to use as a heavy projectile, Tithdaeron saw the men gathering the dead together. They would be caught fire to dispose of. He had a more useful modus operandi, however. After they had been light aflame, the elemental focused on a singuler body with his mind.

Gaining complete control over it using his psionic ability, Tithdaeron hefted the dead body into mid air. Turning to look at the worm, which was losing vigor, he chuckled. The dead body suddenly turned towards the worm, and sped like a missile to the target. It impacted and then penetrated a weak spot. The worm cried out with a another horrid shreik, as the entry wound soon caught aflame. Tithdaeron broke into a hysteric laughter, taking pleasure in the worm's condition.

Heaving yet another body, Tithdaeron repeated the attack on the wound he had created earlier just below its jaw. The side of it's head soon caught aflame, and the smell of burning flesh filled the air from the dead bodies and the live worm slowly burning away.

Within the deepest recesses of the ancient military base, darkness ruled with an iron fist over the expansive caverns. A single beacon of torchlight slowly made its way through the expanse, casting eerie glowing reflections upon white, red or gold eyes looming in the shadows. The further it moved, the larger and more blessed those divine soldiers of the Great Wolf became. No one spoke, though low growls and audible snapping of jaws echoed into the distance along with rhythmic drippings of water droplets.

Darkness gave way to overwhelming blue-hued light as the wolf-sage approached the heart of the ruins. Though her body had begun a painful process of decay over the past few centuries, her soul possessed every shred of vitality thanks to the grace of her god. Surely, she knew, He had not abandoned them; she could feel Him present everywhere, still using her as a vehicle to carry out His divine will.

Approaching the shrine that towered over all, the wolf-sage leaned heavily on her glowing staff to maintain balance. Once brilliantly colored and capable of raining down the Great Wolf's will upon hordes of enemies, it was left to be covered with dented and decaying strings of beads and the brittle skeletons of once-grand feathers. She kneeled, placing a bowl of opaque liquid before the towering statue of Gayadraug and his lost effects; at his feet, a suit of armor, and placed high atop his head, one of the most highly sought-after divine artifacts in the continent of Ea.

"Ts'lel ngtthoth e Gayadraugr," she chanted in an echoing voice, "zaimim o-gaeran tael." The water groaned in response, rippling slightly to project an unfamiliar sight. The scrying water, set in the eyes of one her own, was on the surface, charging violently into a series of enemies. The target of the lupine's attack had been a peculiar armored woman with a similar build to that of a Quendi scum. The lupine had launched itself toward the soldier before somehow falling lifeless, perhaps via a wound that escaped the vision allowed by the spell.

"O-Meilau!" a voice barked, calling the wolf-sage by her honorary title. She turned to behold a single panting white lupine, two of his four arms braced on the room's doorway. Two black vertical lines ran from between its ears to the tip of its nose, a symbol of devotion to the fallen God of Wolves. "Thothugoshu! Nijiaga'a eto yiqu thothugoshu! Eki, iasadu." They were under attack by foreigners and traitors, and needed her help. The wolf-sage turned back to the scrying bowl, already aware of the crisis.

"U'tliokrn. Asaon yigu ke eki on'Draugr." Do not fear, she had replied with a grin, and let them walk into the jaws of the Wolf.



Within moments of the commotion caused by the full emergence of the sand worm and the commencement of its last stand, it was already losing its lively vigor exponentially. Now suffering from major open wounds caused by arrows, swords, spells and oddly-flying corpses that had been lit aflame, it was a shadow of its former, more menacing self. Flesh literally dangled off of its skeleton.

Screeches and shrieks of pain eclipsed even the war cries of both the raiders and the crazed lupines inside the ruins; soon enough, the worm gave a final powerful struggle against its chain prison. Several of them dislodged from their anchors in the ground, but it was not enough. As a result of the combined efforts of all of the raiders, the sand worm arched its head into the air, let loose another mighty roar, and collapsed lifeless upon the sand with a resounding thud.

"All healthy enough to continue, please enter the ruins to aid the Warmaster's group. I want five magi to stay back and heal the wounded, then continue in our path when you're done. Follow the corpses." With that, Ita wheeled her warhorse around and charged into the walled space where a bloody brawl appeared to be raging on. Charlotte's forces were doing excellently, however, as shown by the number of unarmored but oddly muscular lupine corpses strewn about the ground.

Surveying the battlefield, it was clear that the forces under the Warmaster were pushing forward in the direction of a wide stone staircase leading down into the ground, where most of the lupines were emerging. They were merely a few steps from surrounding the entrance, establishing a massive chokepoint that would allow them to win the battle of the surface with little effort. But it would still require the combined efforts of all the remaining raiders (Ita estimated about six fatalities thus far) to reach the artifact spoken of, which would be presumably in the heart of the underground system.

Once the last visible lupine fell to the blade of a Warg Rider, an unnatural silence plagued the group. No longer did the crazed wolvens pour out of the entrance to the inner ruins. Ita dismounted Paprika and pushed through the group toward the staircase most surrounded. "What the hell are you waiting for? Go! Go for the glory of your Goddess! That isn't all of them, I assure you. Gayadraug's best servants are like cockroaches."

Droves of raiders from both groups poured into the thin entrance, weapons held firmly at the ready. Upon their emergence, a large underground room paved with dirt and stones revealed itself. Chains hung from the ceiling, bearing the same straw-stuffed but incredibly decayed canvas targets as those mounted close to the wall. Fresh blood appeared to have been dripped across the room, leading to a different hallway on the other side. Beyond sight, a low snarl echoed, followed by the clatter of claws upon tile, an ear-shattering yelp of pain, and the tearing of flesh asunder.

"Tread lightly," Ita whispered, moving with the rest of the group toward the source of the noise. The next room, contrary to the fallen Vala's belief, was empty. The end of the blood trail was marked by a lupine corpse, whose parts were strewn haphazardly across the room. A crude hole had been made in one of the walls surrounded by recently-dislodged bricks, leading into pure blackness. That was it. Where else could the loot be? There were only two formally-created underground rooms in this entire damn complex!

Confident in her victory, Ita moved to the front of the group and took a step in through the hole. The area felt oddly damp under her feet, either from the slickness of blood or the coolness of packed earth. She briefly leaned out and gestured for the rest of her men to enter, soon walking further into the blackness herself.

A snarl, the swift movement of a shadow, and then sheer pain. Ita was slammed into the side of the tunnel abruptly, one of her arms speared through and pinned to the wall. In her faint vision, more of the same shadows charged in from a cavern dug above. They were obviously massive insects, about as tall and wide as the average raider. Ita gritted her teeth together from the pain before feebly lifting her other hand and focusing. A fireball quickly materialized floating above it, illuminating the fearful visage of her attacker. Antlions. Grand. Her launching of the magical projectile briefly fended it off, allowing her some time to fall back to the rest of the line, but the damage had been done.

[OOC: I don't want this topic to die and there's only three to five antlions, so go ahead with the slaughtering if you want, and then we'll continue.]

The Minotaur, the ever dutiful and compliant Wulfdor, was amongst the last to fell a Lupine in the battle in the cavernous hall, using his mace to crush its skull into the ground. A nasty sight, which caused an even nastier smell. Despite his wounds, the adrenaline rushing through the Minotaur's veins was such that when Ita herself caught up with Charlotte's task force, he was one of the first behind her as she hurried on through the ancient headquarters. Roaring loudly as he did followed, he came to rest only when Ita made it clear she wished to be the first into the blackness that came from a hastily-brought about hole. Within seconds, their leader had been wounded by an antlion, falling back to the group as the swarm began to emerge from the darkness, their talons snapping together as they rushed the raiders.

Wulfdor wasted no time as, with money, adrenaline and a natural preference for obeying orders rather than giving them serving as his motivation, he charged headlong into the first antlion, attempting to take on the large beast by himself. Though the falling first strike with his mace shattered the bones in one of the creature's talons as it reached out to pierce him, the Minotaur was not quick enough to stop its second talon from tripping him up and sending him to the ground. As soon as he was on his back the antlion was upon him, attempting to tear and bite his face clean off. Smashing his mace into the jaw of the beast, Wulfdor managed to secure a two-second reprieve that also gave him enough time to pierce the monster crushing him with his horns, sending out short spurts of blood that splattered the Minotaur from head to foot.

The antlion was not completely dead, however, and continued to thrash about uncontrollably on top of Wulfdor. With a big push that called upon all of his strength, the Minotaur managed to shift the creature to the side, so much so that it was rolled on to its back, and allowed it to carry him with it, so that he ended up on top of the creature's belly, where blood continued to pour out of the horn-wounds. Swinging his mace down once, Wulfdor ended the antlion's life with a bone-smashing blow to the chest that ripped open the torso and killed it almost instantly. Another nasty sight and smell followed. Leaping off of the carcass and straightening up, Wulfdor looked around for the next beast to fight, but saw a chance to curry favour with Ita when he caught sight of her wounds once again. Perhaps an attempt to assist would gain her preference for him as a servant? Wulfdor was not intelligent, and fortunately the logic did not take much thought to agree with.

Hurrying over towards Ita, Wulfdor's eagerness to be seen as favourable almost cost him his life, as he was suddenly tackled from the side and found himself wrestling with a second antlion. His chance to curry their leader's favour vanished, the Minotaur began the fight with renewed vigour.

Omurn half jogged half fell up the shifting sands to the door. Corpses now pilled high as healers sifted through the dead. Blood congealing in the mid day sun. Already scarlet sand was being baked dry, the smell of gently cooking meat was far from pleasant in this heat. He glanced around him, over the corpses and last signs of battle. He had cowered for the first part of the battle. Hidden beyond the crest of a dune waiting for them to advance. His paranoia had gotten the better of them. He had watched scores of warriors charge the mot massive beast he had ever seen. A giant worm that had survived wave after wave of spells and assaults. His vista of the battlefield had forced him to watch the clash. Like ants fighting a giant. As soon as he saw that beast he knew he could not fight it. His life time had been spent fighting people. One on one combat and breaking up bar brawls back in the guards. He knew his way around a dual but how could he go about fighting something like that? No he hid. He was a coward until he could feel that delicate poison slip between his lips.

After all he had overcome his fear just to come here simply for that amber death. His cowardice was over come simply by its mention. If he craved it he would fight till the ends of the earth for it and if he had it it would drive all fear from his body. It was the reason he was in this stinking desert. Trailing after Ita and her war band. If he could become a part of it he could impress her or her generals. Maybe the could reward him with more. That was the plan and if they had created the potion of ferocity then who knew what else they could come up with. There had to be more of it, just had to be.

He was almost there. He had seen others go in through the door this was his chance to fight for them. In amongst their number who would spot one more crazed warrior. He stopped short of the door peering into the doorway. It was dark down there. Who knew what was inside. His mind began to concoct a fantasy that played out in his head. A massacre of the raiders by unseen assignments. His mind even imagined the distance screams and whispers of dieing breath carried on the winds. He turned away eyes tight shut. He couldn't go through there alone. He needed his help. It was time. A hand dived into his belt and pulled a vial from it. He pulled the cork from the end and threw it aside. Throwing his head back he drained it immediately. Leaving it to drop every last speck of the yellow fluid into his awaiting maw. He swallowed, forcing the foul tasting solution into his body. He stood eyes closed waiting for the kick.

Eyes snapping open he felt it work its magic. Rage exploded on his mind in a fireball that sent waves of anger crackling down his spine and through his body. He could feel every muscle contract as the arcana wracked his body like a shock wave. His hand gripped hard into his fist and crushed the vial. Glass fell to the sand and lay sparkling in the sun and Omurn turned on his heal and sped down into the darkness to what ever fate awaited him.

It didn't take long for him to catch up. Following the sounds of battle he soon found their line. Not breaking from his run he drew his sword and clutched to his body. He picked up speed and soon he was almost amongst them. He turned his shoulder in and he charged through them. He couldn't even see the enemy yet but he knew it was there. He slammed through the line. Sending two warriors spinning to the ground. He didn't even acknowledge it. He broke through the line and was on the other side now. Bearing down on the antlions. He didnt even know what they where but they all died the same.

He lowered his sword to his waist. The cold hard point ready to impale the first antlion. He slammed into the beast but his aim was off. It clashed off the carapace missing the vitals. instead it slid over, grating on the hard shell. It reached a joint and the shear speed and strength of Omurn forced it inside. The shear speed carried Omurn past the insect but the sword was stuck fast. The hilt was ripped from his hands as he skidded past. He slipped and fell into a roll.

He shook sand from his hair and turned over onto his back readying himself to get back up into combat but it was not to be. The enraged insect had turned and charged. A long slender arm jabbed out with perfect accuracy. It stabbed into his shoulder while the amour bore the brunt of the impact he could feel it slowly driving closer to his flesh. The insect was massively strong. Omurns face screwed up with pain as it forced him into the sand. Yellow blood was dripping down from the carapace onto his back armor. Another slender arm came around aiming for the neck. With his hand free he grabbed with unerring accuracy. It grabbed hold with his steel gauntlets and held it there as the weight and pressure increased. Even with his power boost from the potion it was still stronger. It forced his arm down nearing his neck.

The creatures maw snapped open and closed wider than his head as this too moved closer. Drool spilling down on top of him. His face screwed up and he screamed as he brought his foot up up sharply. It kicked forcefully at the creatures joint on the thorax. It squealed and moved back. He seized his chance. Pulling his knee to his chest he thrust it forward. Heavy boots kicking straight at the creatures exposed head. He felt part of the jaw crack. He knew it was far from over. The creature retreated. releasing him from the floor. Not missing a beat Omurn struggled to his feat one hand on his bruised shoulder the other reaching for his mace. He would crack that infernal beast.