Attack of the Storm

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[RP] "There's a rumbling in the distance to match the thunderheads lazily rolling across the horizon. The barest hint of a breeze picks up, enough to carry small grains of sand along cobblestones, or swish canopies and plantlife. A certain energy remains in the air as the thunderheads light up with lightning in the clouds, and the energy has a hint of foreboding."

[RP] "The storm glides across the sky toward Emberstrand. The whine of the winds picks up, blowing harshly against buildings and picking up the sand and trash to beat against the sides of the buildings. Mothers bring their children inside, merchants hurriedly put away their wares, and the citizens batten down the hatches for what appears to be an unusual storm. The *thrumm... thrumm* comes closer, and the colored lights appear a few miles from the city again. A peal of thunder shatters the sky as a lightning bolt strikes one of the tallest points in the city: the Black Magic tower."

[RP] "The winds pick up, and a rumbling, snarling howl is carried on the wind. Another flash of light in the clouds, and lightning jumps from cloud to cloud, zig-zagging across the sky and strikes at the gatehouse of the city, shattering stone pillars and causing the guardhouse to sag. The *thrumm... thrumm* comes closer and stops suddenly."

Scrambling over a rise near the city gates, Alba pauses, turning her head to the sky. Ears twitching faintly, she sniffs, once, behind her mask. "...That is not the sound of the storm," she murmurs to the male at her side. "Best we hurry, before the gates needs must close once more, my shaman."

Watching that storm approach on the horizon from the deck of the black ship called Redemption, the seasoned hume known simply as Mordecai didn't particulary like the look of it... Something about it setting him on edge, gnawing and worrying at his subconcious, putting a bad feeling in his gut... And after close to 40 years of surviving battle and other calamity, the man learned long ago to trust that feeling, to follow his instincts- they've kept him alive so far. And with that, he quickly headed back to the bridge, calling out to the only other person present at the time... Telling said Elvaan to 'gear up' and follow him. A quick trip to the man's personal armory afterwards providing him with his two holstered sixguns, his sawed-off lever action, and a big-bore scoped rifle, before leading Ka'Len out into the city like that... Soon approaching the front gate, only to hear the sound of lightning impacting a nearby structure, and quickening his pace.

From his home in the slums, Kupor looks out over the sky. He is painting masks, for he uses them as symbols when he fights the heavy influx of crime in Emberstrand. He was told somewhere that criminals are a cowardly and superstitious lot. The moogle lowers the white wooden mask, long ears tilting up, his pom drifting as he tilts his head. Kupor frowns when the lightning strikes the Black Mage tower. That is reason enough to move. There are people in danger there. - The moogle swordsman rushes towards the window, pulling his hat up to his head in one hand, his sword in the other. He slings it across his side, letting it rest on his hip as he gets his foot up on the sill of the window and throws the shutters wide. He springs from the sill and towards the roof of the next tenament building, grabbing the ledge and easily vaulting up onto the roof. He begins a brisk run over the roofs. - Leaping over each building, over streets by bounding down onto stall tops and back up again, he stops as he hears the sound of another strike. Kupor scrambles up to a nearby belltower and looks out. He frowns mightily. The gate house as well. - First thing's first. He begins to alert members of the guard to the strike on the Black Mage tower and to send healers. Then, to the heights again. To wait. Is this nature. Or is this war?

With the oncoming storm Ka'len had seen to securing the Redemption with a keen eye towards the oncoming storm. It was Mordecai's reaction that alerted the nobleman turned pirate that there was some sort of difference. After grabbing his swordbelt and finishing the last ties the young man pelted after the olderman into the city, making haste towards the front gates of the city before the guardsmen would set to closing them.

The howl of the wind remains, and from nearly a quarter mile off, there is a shimmer of light along the ground, and a light tremor travels toward the gates, followed quickly by another peal of thunder. Lightning crashes down from the heavens, striking a building somewhere in the slums. As the lightning zig-zags down, faint forms can be made out in the darkness of the incredible storm. Large forms with wings.

Zhgir will one of these days, in fact, get a new polearm. One of those days is not today. Especially because the arachnid was laying atop a building not too far from the city gates; completely winded and out of breath. He idly reaches out to grab the hem of his cloak and wipe the sweat off his brow, rolling around and looking over the edge of the roof, shielding his eyes from any dust or other debrii blowing with the wind as he tries to figure out what was so special about this storm. Beyond the fact that it looked like a very dangerous... well, storm.

Zhgir will one of these days, in fact, get a new polearm. One of those days is not today. Especially because the arachnid was laying atop a building not too far from the city gates; completely winded and out of breath. He idly reaches out to grab the hem of his cloak and wipe the sweat off his brow, rolling around and looking over the edge of the roof, shielding his eyes from any dust or other debrii blowing with the wind as he tries to figure out what was so special about this storm. Beyond the fact that it looked like a very dangerous... well, storm.

Zhgir will one of these days, in fact, get a new polearm. One of those days is not today. Especially because the arachnid was laying atop a building not too far from the city gates; completely winded and out of breath. He idly reaches out to grab the hem of his cloak and wipe the sweat off his brow, rolling around and looking over the edge of the roof, shielding his eyes from any dust or other debrii blowing with the wind as he tries to figure out what was so special about this storm. Beyond the fact that it looked like a very dangerous... well, storm.

Kupor frowns again, torn. He looks up into the sky, tilting his hat slightly against the wind to peer up at the storm. There are people to help. Yet. No. People to help. Kupor cannot sense evil. There is not some great evil around every corner. He must go where help is needed. - The moogle turns slightly, then stops, turning back to where the lightning struck. Then up. - ( Kupor turns. He immediately begins to travel towards the highest point in the city, bounding quickly by rooftop. ) [Spoofed By: Kupor] - If he must fight a storm, so be it.

Mordecai briefly pauses to look up at some nearby rooftops as he moves through the city together with Ka'Len, the man pondering the advantages of taking higher ground... But he soon dismisses that thought for now as the cracks and rumbles of lightning strikes hitting across those few points in the city is heard, the soundwaves rolling almost lazily across Emberstrand, and decides to keep closer to the ground for now... Looking back at Ka'Len then and rumbling at the Elvaan, "... I think the Empire is getting creative here. Watch your back." And moving on again then, leading the younger man along... Only to pause again as he looks up at the sky, and catches a glimpse of one of those winged monstrosities... The older man right away dropping down to one knee, and promptly shouldering that rifle... Squinting right through the scope in an attempt to get a more detailed look.

As they make the gate Ka'len looks off into the storm and what he sees causes him toe stare at the horizon. The young man squints for a moment or two before muttering, "dragons? Some sort of flying monster at least." He pauses and looks to the city, becoming thoughtful for a moment he looks to the guards, "Get the gates closed and get runners to get alerts out for people to get into cover." He looks bck then and looks at Mordecai's gun before he cracks his knuckles, "too bad I never did learn ranged weapons well. At least I have a few magical tricks under my belt now."

Are they dragons? Moving with the cover of the storm, a half dozen forms with large wings, flapping with a mechanical flair to them. They land as a single unit, looking humanoid in large, armored suits. As they land, another bolt of lightning shimmers from cloud to cloud and connects far off with a barn. Those who are sensitive to it can notice a hint of Mist on the air. The scent strong, cloying yet burning to the nose.

The moogle stops. In another flash of light, he sees the unit landing. He frowns. That is, at least, easier than fighting in the middle of a thundercloud. He twists in place, the roof shingles underneath him cracking and sliding as he twists his weight around to move to intercept the winged units. Is that a gleam of iron? Are they more of the suited wonders? - The last one Kupor fought nearly destroyed his ribcage. He will simply have to fight harder. - At the edge of the building as he is moving in the opposite direction, Kupor reaches down to grab Zhgir and drag him along in a wide long leap to get back to the landing site. "Come. We must go this way. Try not to make any explosions this time that will harm other people, kupo. I will be upset."

"Tchah," Alba says, dropping into a low crouch and beginning to slink down the hill. "Not fiend or wyrm. Men with armor and magicks. Challenging, but poor sport. Feh... Come, my shaman. Let us extract the blood price from these stormbringers, for their affront." With that, she slips over the hardpan, low and silent, toward the armored figures.

Mordecai gets a bead on one of those figures... His expression hardening behind that scope as he takes in those details with aid of that magnification- not dragons, but men. Literal Stormtroopers!- His crosshair only slightly wavering over the descending figure as his aim follows along... Until promptly losing sight of it, his view suddenly taken in by the city wall... And he lowers that rifle again then, almost calmly slinging it across his shoulder as he pushes back up and jogs towards Ka'Len as the young Elvaan instructs the guards, growling once he gets near, "... Archadians, armored, like the ones in previous attacks. We're going to have to go in hard, if you're up for that." And points in the direction of where the enemy squad landed somewhere outside the wall.

Talen snuffles loudly and blinks his eyes. "Is that what I think it is, Alba? Mist? Mechanical armor and mist?" He drops into a crouch, nose working at the air. "These are what assaulted the city the last time, while we were dodging their airship bombs. Or something like them, anyways." Talen creeps along behind Alba, the fur on his ears standing on end. "There'll be blood alright..."

Ka'len lets loose a sigh, "at least it wasn't..." His voice drifts off before he focuses better on what, or rather whom, has landed and a grimace comes. He looks over at Mordecai then before he draws out his blade and he nods, "looks like I spoke too soon about needing a firearm." He flashes a quick smile, showing a bit of bravado, "c'mon old man." There's a wink and a grin before Ka'len starts to advance towards the forces while carrying his blade in one hand and the other starts to trace slow runes in the air as he begins to cast the spell so that once he is within distance he can launch it at one of the enemies.

Zhgir doesn't even get a word out - mostly being out of breath - before Kupor suddenly grabs his grappling arms and pulls him into that leap of faith. "Where... wings... explode!" He lets out during the air time; and then crumbles like a leaf when the pair lands. ". . . Zhgir will take that intermission now."

The armored creatures begin a series of hopping leaps, wings holding them aloft briefly before they touch down again. The sextet stop within a hundred yards of the adventurers the city has chosen to disgorge. Winged, armored individuals. One in the center brings its hands up in front of itself, hands moving in an intricate pattern not far from each other. A mechanical voice emits from the armored creature, "Earth's Embrace." The ground heaves and shudders, trembling with more of the thrumming sensation.

As the ground rumbles beneath him Ka'len's spell is interrupted by his sudden need to keep his balance, which he does, but not before he ends up impaling his sword into the dirt. The young man straightens back up and glares for a moment before he reaches for the sword again and it slips through his hands. He gives them a shake and starts to reach again, but the numb fingers can barelly hold onto the blade when he pulls it from the stone with a muttered, "damnit.."

The tremor forces Alba to tuck over, resting her hands against the thrumming dirt to keep balance. Behind her mask, her lips peel back from her teeth as she rides out the localized earthquake... Only to find, once it's over, that her hands, like Ka'Len's, are too numb to hold her weapons, much less fight.

Mordecai's first instinct, when seeing that lead figure raise his hands, is to raise that Big Game rifle of his and put a large caliber round through the soldier's faceplate... But as he promptly stumbles from that magically induced tremor, he growls as the weapon just lies heavy in his numb hands... His shoulders jerking as he attempts to lift it, only for his arms to not cooperate at all. Leaving him and the others visibly affected right there in the open, in the line of fire, with no way to retaliate... And as such he jerks his head at those nearby, growling out from between his teeth, "Retreat or scatter, your choice, but fuckin' run." And starts to backpeddle towards the gate himself.

Talen manages to stay upright as the ground beneath his feet rumbles and shakes, the male Viera looking a little green about the gils however. As the spell passes he moves to kneel at Alba's side as she recovers. "Are you alright, my hunter?", he says, as a multi-pointed star begins to form in his left hand. [Spell Burst] "They look like formidible opponents.."

As the flash of the spell lashes forward, Kupor brings his sword up, putting his very will into the sword. It is not something he can do well. It is not something he can teach. But he lashes back at the spell. As the ground trembles in front of him, Kupor draws his sword in a quick flash, pulling it forward, then down in a sharp downward thrust, ending the vibrations before it reaches him. Just barely. He brings the sword back up to his side and behind him in one hand, in a relaxed stance. - "Leave, kupo." He says to the gathered six armored figures, "Please. There is no need for violence. You have endangered enough lives in this city. I will have no more blood soaking the dirt of the streets. We did not start this war. And it can still be ended, kupo."

Zhgir slowly pushes himself back up to a stand, wiping his hand across his face. Then he pauses, staring at the hand. Then he repeats the process with the next one; then the the next one, before finally looking at his fourth. "Zhgir doesn't even want to know." He turns his head towards the shout from Mordecai, then back towards Kupor. "Go, kupo! We'll keep your back!" He shouts, then just... ditches and runs, heading for the same building he just leaped off from.

The armored individuals begin to move again, another of the six holding back as its hands raise and join together, hands moving in rapidly before the mechanical voice lashes out, "Venom Squall." The rain picks up and the smell is putrid. The water appears green, spattering on the ground and small tidbits of vapors rise.

"No," Alba snarls, "I cannot hold my weapons!" Her ears lower, as she stabs a poisonous glare at the armored suits. "Until this is not so, my shaman, I must ask that your magics scour the flesh from their bo--PTHHPT!" As the putrid rain falls, she turns her head to the side, roaring in outrage "IT IS IN MY MOUTH AUGH MURDER THEM ALL MY SHAMAN!"

Rain begins. Kupor does not fault the others for running. After all, they cannot fight. He sees Talen able to move. The moogle pulls up to him and in front. He pulls his hat down far against the rain. "They do not wish to talk, it seems." He holds his sword now in both hands at his side, ready to defend himself. - "If they get inside the walls, kupo, they may split up. But we two may not be able to hold them off here in a single stand." He grips his sword, in defense of Talen. "We should move to the walls, kupo. And allow time for the afflictions to pause."

The curses that spill from the young nobleman's lips make obvious the time that young man has spent around the docks. Ka'len runs. He holds onto this sowrd as best he can and he flees from the battle as the rain starts to splatter around him. As Alba screams behind him the young man, stupidly, turns his head to look at her and Talen. His foot hits a rock, his knee hits a puddle and it splashes up into his face leaving him coughing and sputtering before turning a sickly color as he slowly pushes himself to his feet.

Mordecai has always made his way back through the gates when that foul smelling rain breaks out over him... Feeling it soak down his neck and back right before he manages to duck under cover, and the man stumbling a moment then, watching his vision swim, cold sweat and nausea hitting him... Instantly recognizing a case of poisoning as he sways there, and clumsily turns around to see how the others might be faring, gritting his teeth.

"It shall pass, my hunter, I am by your side so fear not." The five pointed star completes, and as he concentrates, the star begins to fill with flames. Upon hearing the intonation of another spell, Talen manages to turn his face away from the incoming foul rain. With an odd look on his face, something that fluctuates between anger, annoyance and ... mirth, the male Viera turns back to face the group of metal armored beings. "Suck back a little cleansing fire, foul things." Five streaks of fire jump from his hand and race towards the gathered enemies. [Fire]

The mechanical suits stagger as the spell fragments above and comes shattering down upon them. Soft cursing can be heard from the enemies before, which causes them to spread out more. One of the suits takes a step and it pauses, sparks shooting from the knee joints as it becomes stopped. Soon Mist vents from the suit and the upper half of the body unsnaps, revealing an angry Gria in an Archadian uniform.

Zhgir tilts his head upwards. Then as Alba screams, he smiles. "Rain does sting nice this time of year." He quickly pulls the hood over his features though, blocking most of the harmful effects from the poison just in time. He then hums by himself as he hobbles along around the outskirts of the combat zone, looking for an appropriate spot to spy the happenings with.

Ka'len shudders and coughs, blood coming up with the spittle. A hand is lifted to whipe it away and he nearly loses the sword once more, but he's starting to slowly get feeling back. His eyes turn towards the men while he focuses on recovering from the lingering poisons racing through his bloodstream. Motes of white energy begin circling around him, repairing what damage the poisons in his system caused moments before. He shifts his grip on the blade then flexes his hands slowly. He's not quite there yet, the tingles are keeping him from racing back in, but the feeling is returning.

"Fight it is, kupo." By the light of the fire, Kupor brings his sword up, parallel to his face. He holds it with the guard at his shoulder, squeezed tight in his hand. Despite his own skill and the damage Talen seems to have done, there is a grim look of dislike on Kupor's face. The moogle, against any odds, does not wish to fight unless he has to. - It appears he is being forced to. Kupor bounds off to one side in a long circle as they spread out, going for one of the outlying armor wearers. His sword comes down by his side. Rain beats hard against his hat, but it slides easily from the glowing steel of Captain Black's magic sword. The sword he took as a promise that he would destroy Melton. - Suddenly, the moogle turns, putting his feet in the mud and vaulting at the outer most Mist suit wearer, sword swinging up high. He easily clears a high arc and comes down, sword cleaving down in two swift strokes.

"It has a face," Alba breathes as the upper half of one of the armors pops off. Thanks to her expressionless mask, only Talen can truly take note of the bloodthirsty glee the realization seems to give her. Hurriedly flexing her fingers, she scoops up her knives, carrying them close against her chest as she bounds toward the half-armored combatant. "I WISH FOR THIS ONE!" she calls, putting on the speed toward her chosen target.

Zhgir looks behind him as there is more shouting and flashy fireworks. "Zhgir...?" He wonders out loud, before moving along, still futilely patting at his satchels, still unable to open them, the dextrous act treacherous and full of pitfalls. Which is why he tears free one of his bags that makes a sad 'plop' on the mud as he points at the just risen figure. "NOT DRAGON WINGS!" He suddenly screams, and then just screams because it hurts.

Talen shudders momentarily, and stares at the Gria who appears from the apparent mobile mechanical suit. "So it is truth then, that Archades is experimenting with weapons that use Mist. That is an abomination. Has Archades forgotten so soon the FOLLY which brought the world, spirits and all, to her knees?" His eyes bulge as Alba suddenly dash in. "Alba! THE MIST! Stay back!" His ears turn and flatten to his head once more, and he lets out a sigh before following the female Viera in. Talen begins to diverge though, moving towards the still armored foes. His left hand begins to sputter and smoke as the summoner mutters loudly the words to bring forth fire once more. "I would borrow your strenght, Ifrit, if you are listening." [FIRE]

"Care not!" Alba calls bounding in an erratic, zigzag fashion to avoid the pelting black hail, skidding to a halt in front of the unarmored figure, the carvings on her mask shifting, skittering over each other into a new configuration... one that resembles the face of a Salamander. "You have a face!" she calls up to the Gria, and a tongue of flame belches upwards at the unfortunate officer's head. [Flamethrower -- Blue Magic]

Ka'len can feel his hands. He looks down for a moment and then back up and his eyes are on one person, the one who has been throwing those attacks. The young man ducks his head and he starts running in while one hand runs down the length of his blade and the white healing orbs continue their dance around him as he lifts his blade and slashes down, intending to cut their magical career short. [Rend Magic]

A mighty sound rings out in the storm that is just as loud as the thunder, as steel staff and steel sword clash. Kupor brings both feet up, pushing off the staff to take another stance in the mud. Magic rains down around him, burning into him. His cloak burns in patches. But worse, he can feel his energy sapping from him. - Taking his stance once more, Kupor begins his sword up to his shoulder, point upward. Then he turns swiftly, moving away from Alba and the unarmored figure. He moves towards the other armored individuals, still able to cast spells. He takes another away from Ka'Len, dark energy hammering against his face and body. - This time, there is no daring mighty leap, no great swing of his sword, but he makes a short bursting dash at one of the still armored figures, bringing his sword out from his side in another two slashes, going for the knee. Perhaps, as he had seen before, this is a weak point.

Mordecai feels the strength in his arms returning just as he sprints onto the top of the wall from the stairs he took... And takes the opportunity right away to cover his face some as he rushes into yet another magic attack from the Mist-Armored Archadians... The man grunting loudly as the Darkness is absorbed into him, causing jolts of sharp pain that cause him to briefly stumble once more, almost falling to his knees at the wall's outward facing parapet... But as the pain slowly starts to fade again then, he growls to himself, pumping himself up, filling himself with anger, and while tightly gripping that large, big bore rifle, promptly swings it up... Resting the weapon across that same parapet and finding his spotweld, tugging the stock into bone, and dropping his eye right infront of the scope. The aged gunfighter letting out his breath then as the crosshairs almost languidly drop on one of the armored figures currently not being engaged by the others, his finger slipping around the trigger and taking up the first pressure... Only to cleanly break the trigger's resistance. The giant muzzle flash and the sonic boom of the gunshot announcing his presence on the wall as he sends a .500 caliber, high-grain hunting round straight towards the Archadians... The man already quickly throwing the bolt again even before the rifle settles from its recoil, and that crosshair smoothly shifting to the next trooper without even bothering to check if the first one was hit... Another crack of rifle fire rolling across the plains as he repeats the entire process, and once more moves on, letting that sight drop on a third... His finger quick to follow up on the trigger a final time. [Fanning]

Talen falters in his run, slowing and peering into the distance, towards the incoming rumble. The black spheres then smack into him, causing the Viera to yelp and cover his head with his arms. "By the spirits, that hurts..." He gives his head a shake, and looks up, over to where Alba fights. His brow furrows as he peers back to where the rumble approaches from. "We've got to finish this fast and get out of here!", Talen yells. Cracking his knuckles, he stretches. "Welp, let's try something different." Instead of fire, electricity crackles between his fingertips, and he sends out a crackle of it towards one of the armored Archadians. [THUNDER]

The unarmored Archadian officer swirls around to Alba, just in time to collect a face full of fire and an angry Viera. She shrieks as she sees the muzzle flash and watches as three of her comrades are struck, one in the opposite knee joint of where Kupor has hit, the other staggering back and starting to retreat, and the last one falls still, slumping over as the waist joints hold it upright. The mist vents from the whole in the forehead of where the last bullet hit. To add insult to injury, the final suit shivers and slows as the lightning crackles over its surface.

This latest barrage is only the harbinger for the thrumming noise that has arrived: a newer, sleeker suit, larger and carrying a weapon with it. The suit comes to a stop, the faceplate opening to reveal a grinning man in his early fifties, sporting a lunatic's grin. "Ah, Emberstrand's finest. I wondered when you all would finally show yourselves out of your little holes. Come, bring yourself against my might."

While in general, the damaging and disabling of three Mist-powered battlesuits is objectively a good thing, the presence of Viera on the battlefield, as Mist begins to leak from confinement, makes the achievment... questionable, in the short run. As the Mist washes over Alba, she drops to one knee, a hand pressing against her mask, breathing heavily, her other hand tightening around her dagger until knuckles pop and leather creaks. Then, all at once, her head snaps up, black eyeholes orienting on the singed Gria. Without a word, she leaps into action, her preternatural speed only heightening the sheer brutality of her attacks; uncontrolled, unhesitating, and implacable.

As the new combatant appears, Kupor leaves the unsuited soldier alone. He does not fear those within the suit. He turns his gaze towards the new older gentlemen appear, his face set in a grin. That does not appear to be a man who desires peace. That appears to be a man who wishes nothing but pain. - And yet, Kupor lowers his sword into a defensive position. "All this? For one fight, kupo? Is your empire so bloodthirsty?" - Just as Kupor says this, Alba goes ballistic and launches herself at one of the downed Gria liked a crazed animal. - Kupor finds this is becoming a pattern.

As the suits retreat or are incapacitated Ka'len's attention turns to the new arrival and he squints for a moment before frowning, "Corlan... excuse me. General Corlan. Just go back to Archades and tell your superiors that the city is well defended. We do not need their... 'help'." He lifts his blade a bit, ready to leap into battle with the armored man when his request isn't taken while a brief glance is given to the mist maddened viera and then he looks back, intent to use any weapons in his aresenal just now, "go before they turn on you."

Talen's next spell begins to falter as the suits fail, Mist pouring out into the area surrounding the Viera. He coughs and gags, trying to get some good air and failing. He sinks to his knees, leaning forward to steady himself with closed fists. "Hrrrk. No... Stay. DIE!", he burbles, his breath rattling in his lungs. The male Viera stands suddenly, and with a fresh burst of speed and energy, he heads straight up the middle, right for the General with nought but his fingerclaws for weapons.

Zhgir gets off the mud, his cloak caked in the brown stuff. That was the plan; not trying to escape the painful black rain. Spitting out some of the gunk out from his mouth, even diggin it out between his mandibles and palps with a finger, he briefly pauses as he notices the man shout. Recognition flutters on his face. Dropping down to a low crouch, he starts to quickly stalk towards the sleeker looking machine; hoping that his newfound camoflage affords him the kind of cover to slip through unnoticed; and go about his task of stuffing a handful of mud in the General's face. [Annoy] Diplomacy!

Mordecai is about to send another bullet into one of the troopers, when his attention is instead diverted to the arrival of that larger, more dangerous looking figure... His head briefly raising above that rifle scope to survey the overall scene, and his brows knitting together then as he watches that figure from afar for a few moments, before slowly dropping his eye back behind the sight, and swivelling his crosshair onto him... The corners of the gunfighter's mouth tugging into a deep scowl then, and his finger instantly tensing onto that rifle's trigger as he sees something- something the others can't see, and something he doesn't like at all... Mordecai watching from afar as some of the others seem to be trying and reason with the man, the attempt giving him a moment's pause... Before his mind suddenly focuses itself, remembering his job- his real job- and finding himself looking straight at an oppertunity he can't miss... That same mind instantly sending the signal to his finger then. Trigger pulled without further ado even as the mad, male Viera rushes the General.

The Gria that had been unarmored on the ground gurgles as she drops the gokuu pole, the Mist maddened Viera having pounced on her, knives going into her skin so easily. The General takes a half step back, preparing to close the helm of his armor before he's hit in the face with mud. The stick substance brings about a rage in the General. "How dare you insignificant insects oppose me!" Mordecai's bullet slams home into the man's armor, just slightly to the left of the heart. The General sputters, armored hand reaching to his chest as Mist spills from the suit, mingled with blood. One would expect black blood from the man given the stories, but instead, it is as read as any Hume's. He staggers backward, the helm shutting swiftly. A whine comes from the suit as he brings the sword to bear, magic crackling at the joints of the suit. It's go time.

Lightning crackles through the sky, lighting up Kupor's face. It is as he expected. However, Zhgir's 'quick thinking' hasn't aided the position of he and Ka'len any. Yet it is likely a moot point. The man seems to be a power hungry individual. That does not mean Kupor does not have to try. Any blood shed that can avoided. Any life that does not have to be taken, friend or foe. Kupor will grasp for these. He must. - Immediately, Kupor goes onto the offensive, throwing himself forward sword down at his side. He moves nimbly through the mud, staying low. As before, even if the suit is sleek and new, Kupor goes for the knees. He brings his sword out from his side in a quick stroke, magical steel flashing briefly in the darkness of the stormy night.

With one of the Geomancers down by Alba's knives, another from Mordecai's bullet, and two more heavily wounded, Alba vaults to the next of the punctured armor suits. "Sing for me," she whispers, her voice eerily lucid, pleasant almost. "Sing for me the song of the Mist, please?" Curved mythril knives flicker and flash, digging into neck and faceplate and anything else she can find purchase on.

Talen sees that the General's face is protected by glass. More's the pity. Using whatever cracks, wires, piping and other mechanical things for grip, the male Viera clambers up the General's suit, claws reaching for his face. "PEEK! A! BOOOO!" he says, loudly and off kilter, smashing at the General's faceplate.

Talen sees that the General's face is protected by glass. More's the pity. Using whatever cracks, wires, piping and other mechanical things for grip, the male Viera clambers up the General's suit, claws reaching for his face. "PEEK! A! BOOOO!" he says, loudly and off kilter, smashing at the General's faceplate.

The smart, tactical thing would be to stay back, use that rifle to its best long range effect, and just keep putting the big, armored man full of holes until he goes down from a bad case of lead poisoning... But this man's different, something about him requires a more personal touch. Besides, his wife's twin brother is down there, just a sword to back him up. And as such that rifle is slung back across his shoulder as Mordecai pushes himself away from the parapet and without hesitation makes his way down to the gate house again... Soon emerging back on the ground, striding towards the ongoing battle with grim confidence, even as he yanks out one of his hefty sixguns, thumbing back the hammer, heading over to Ka'Len to back up the Elvaan.

Zhgir slips around, hanging off the armored suit's shoulder. "I'm not an insect-!" He shouts, obviously annoyed himself, wiping mud from his face. "Oh, no. Zhgir!" He then curse in shock as Talen just gets up and smacks at the General's suit like that - he then attempts to grab the mist-mad Viera from around his neck and middle and pull him down with him, off the suit, and down into the ground, before he gets the brunt of the General's fury.


The other suits, those that are still functional, pull back further as they can while being stabbed at in weak places by the crazed Viera huntress. Mechanical shrieks are cut short as a shower of blood manages to pour from one of the other suits, turning the mud red.

The General looks to Ka'Len, and if the helm could smile, it would. "Perhaps, Herstal, you need the help." The moogle's sword clangs away from the knee, staggering the armored giant before it moves quickly. The fire impacts against the General's chest, scorching and searing where the bullet had gone in. A snarl of pain shows on the General's face. His free hand snatches up the suit with the bullet hole in its head, carrying it as a small girl in pigtails would carry a dolly, and throws it toward the Herstal noble, but it zips past toward the wall, exploding on impact. His free hand reaches up, grasping the male Viera away from his faceplate, and Zhgir with him. He throws, aiming toward the maddened Huntress.

Mordecai continues striding forward, not even looking back as that hurled suit soars past him and bursts apart into the wall behind him, because men like him never look back at explosions. His pale gaze set intently on the General instead, his face a hard mask, no anger or hatred, simply intensity and purpose... And with that, walking closer, he raises that sixgun, and simply starts shooting, his finger working the trigger thrice in quick succession, watching the hammer drop, the muzzle rise and fall, as he aims to shoot the armored man three times right in the chest place where his rifle bullet weakened it previously... [Fanning]

Ka'len tenses briefly as the suit is hurled in his directoin, but noting quickly that it's not going to actually strike him he remains still. The metal rushes by and his hair moves due to the gusting wind it causes. As his hair settles into place Ka'len hears the approach of Mordecai, or rather the nearing sounds of gunfire. A brief smile finds its way to the nobleman's face for a moment and then it's gone as his eyes bore into the armored Archadian, "My father always said that I was contrary, so I will have to disagree with you Lord Corlan." With no further ado Ka'len rushes in past flying moogles and falling compatriots, his blade catching the light as he strikes out at Corlan.

So many songs cut short... A disappointed cast to her ears, blood dripping from arms and mask, and wreathed in curling tendrils of Mist, Alba's masked head pops up from her work, orienting on the last remaining armored figure. "Hallo!" she cries, leaping off the corpse, scrabbling on all fours toward the dogpiled General, "Do you sing? Sing for u--AOUF!" A well-aimed Moogle cuts off her childish questions, sending pacifist warrior and mad hunter tumbling backward.

Talen tries to cling to the General's PHACE, however he finds himself sliding downwards due to the assitance from the General, the hidden Kupor and the hanging spider. Somehow, he manages to clamp onto the general's leg, and inexorably climbs upwards... until he finds that weakened spot. Ramming his fingers into the hole(s), he twists his fingerclaws about. "I PUNCH INITIATIVE!"

The General turns. Sensing danger for the viera, any danger, Kupor leaps, elbowing him down long enough for Corlan to grab Kupor instead of Talen. This, unfortunately, means that Kupor slams into Alba. Fortunately, Kupor is lighter. - Unfortunately, Alba is currently extra deepfried crazy. - As Kupor hits, he rolls, trying to lessen the damage to both him and Alba, but the mist suit grants great strength and Kupor hits the ground hard, rolling over Alba quickly, panting as the wind is knocked out of him. He staggers out of the rain soaked ground, cloak dripping in mud. He pulls up his one hand, a flash of pain traveling across his body, before he stifles it to throw off his muddy cloak. "Sorry, kupo." He doesn't bother trying to get Alba up. It might be better if she is down there. - Then it occurs to him. Yes. A dogpile. It is crude. It is foolish. But this man is likely a dedicated sword fighter. Kupor slams his sword into his scabbard and leaps up onto the General's back, using his own great strength to try and twist the man to the ground.

Zhgir continues to cling onto Talen, though for reasons he was already beginning to doubt. "Zhgir doesn't think this is a very good idea-!" He tries to shout over all the gunfights, blades and well, mist-mad Viera next to him. He then twists around, grabs an extra knife from somewhere, and then also chips away at the leg with the hopelessly small thing. "We happy? Are we bloody happy now, huh?" He shouts into Talen's ear, or maybe it was at the General; or just for his own sake.

The bullets from Mordecai's shots plink across the armored chest, denting on either side of Talen's head. The armored General snarls in fury, the Mist seeping from the bullet hole as the man is climbed upon. The suit lurches in time for Ka'Len's sword to come dangerously close to the faceplate, instead crashing into a pauldron. Zhgir's knife plinks away at the knee joint, scratching it.

There is a low growl from the depths of the suit, and Daschel draws his sword up, calling upon the training that has launched his career. The air sizzles about him with the promise of electrocution. Hairs rise on end in the dogpile, and the General continues his chanting. Static coalesces, visable in the air as the General fights for footing. The suit becomes covered in lightning as it bursts out in all directions.

Ka'len's brows furrow for a moment as thelightnight starts to arc over the suit and then he quickly rauses his blade so that it's that which is struck rather than him, still it runs up his arms and even though the white orbs start to grow and circle about him the force pushes him back. His feet drag through the sand as he grits his teeth, intent on keeping his footing so that once the affect weakens he can move back in.

"That's not a song!" Alba calls as she scampers forward, lines of electricity scorching deep furrows across her arms and back. "You're not bleeding enough to sing! You need more holes in your neck! I'll help!" And with that, Alba simply hurls herself at the arcing suit of armor, unheeding of the pain promised by the action in her efforts to help Daschel 'sing.'

This seemed like a really great idea in hindsight. - Kupor brings his feet up and kicks at the armor, throwing himself back, reaching towards his side. It is long enough to keep himself from being fried point blank by the lightning. But that leaves the others. As electricity begins to crackle through his fur, Kupor brings his sword forward from his scabbard once more, pointing it just as he begins to travel away from the General. - "You throw away your men! You demand a great fight? Kupo, you are nothing, because you understand nothing of sacrifice!" - He brings the sword out. To channel the lightning field around him and lessen the effect on Zhgir and Talen around him. By taking the lightning into his sword. It arcs around the sword, forks of blue fire spiraling down the blade. White hot pain becomes the center of Kupor's mind, overtaking his mental barriers, his training. It feels like his very center is on fire, his body being burned from the inside out as he takes a great deal of lightning meant for the others into himself. - For a moment he seems to glow. Then Kupor is thrown by the blast of the radiating spell, sliding through the mud and rain and grass away from the armored man, blackened sword falling into the ground tip first by his side.

Talen's continues to claw at the damaged area of the suit, the maddened Viera trying to pry the chest plate open. His attempted is interrupted as electricity arcs across the General's suit. Talen's legs flex and cause him launch from the suit, where he ploughs a furrow in the freshly churned muck. Smoking slightly, he begins to rise to his feet. "SPOTTED TALEN CANNOT BE STOPPED BY BULLET!"

Mordecai continually shifts his aim, looking for an opening to shoot the armored General once more, yet constantly finds it black as the others assault the man like that, climbing over him or moving in to attack with melee... Watching the General start to gather his magical energy like that then, however, seeing lighting start to form, the old gunfighter readies himself to shout a warning... Only to find himself too late, watching as the magic unleashes, and hurls both Kupor and Talen away from it. An act which forces an opening for the old gunfighter, his gun instantly snapping back up again as he quickly rakes aim, and pulls that trigger... That big, fat bullet aimed straight for the General's faceplate.

Zhgir was not enjoying this anymo- oh hey, he was making a scratch on the armor. Why was it glowing so much...- and then the thief is tossed onto the muck, his wet cloak quickly flaring out as the electricty dances across his form. Muttering, but still largely intact, he gets onto his feet, looking towards the crazy Viera. Sighing, he undoes one of the bags around himself as he makes his way quickly over - and then attempts to smack the mad summoner back to the ground with the coinbag.

May not be able to be stopped by bullets, but the shock shield is enough to push even the strongest of foes back to let the General rise to his feet. Mordecai's bullet smashes the faceplate, and Daschel turns his head away from the sound, the bullet grazing his cheek and eye, embedding itself into the metal behind. Daschel's face is pale, mud spattere, sweat soaked, and drawn from pain. There's still the chest wound, after all. His lips dribble crimson, down his chin as he smiles his bloody smile. His left eye oozes, the eyelid torn and burnt from the bullet's heat, the bloody orb milky white at the center. The smile is one of a manic madman, and a titter looses from his lips at the brush with death. "You've proven yourselves ... for now." There is a whine coming from the boots of the suit, and time runes begin to light up along the boy of the suit.

The suit slides backwards at a quick pace and the General begins his retreat, the shoulder pauldrons of his armor lifting as balls of brilliant blue static bounce from them, moving to cling to the remaining suits. They cling, grow brightly, and explode messily, ruining chance for capture of the suits.

Talen sinks his teeth into Zhgir's wrist after being smacked by the coinbag. He hangs there, snarling like a dog, and shaking his head back and forth.

Ka'len grunts and he starts to lift his hands as the man retreats before just slamming the blade in its sheathe. That down the young man straightens and he takes a breath before his eyes turn to the still mad female viera and he quickly weaves a slow spell so that he can 'safely' pull her out of the effects from the mist.

"Don't go! Sing! Sing please?" Dropping onto her haunches, the Viera sighs apparently quite disappointed, as the wounded Daschel totally doesn't retreat at all. Turning, her eyes fall onto Ka'Len, and her ears snap upright again. "You! Can you si--" and the spell wraps around her, voice dropping to a bass crawl.

"Down boy! Down!" Zhgir hisses, shaking his hand, whilst trying to pry the mad Viera with three of the others. Nope, still bleeding. "Hnghh...!" He lets out another pained gasp, and finally he snaps, "Fine, fine-augh!" He then pulls the muddy cloak off him and just hoists Talen off the ground on his shoulder, teeth and all, whilst making a pained walk towards the others. "Zhgir'll... just never use that hand again."

Ka'len walks towards the slowed Alba and then, much Like Zhgir, he starts pulling her away from the mist heavy area while keeping an eye out for her sharp items and at the same time speaking to Mordecai, "we need to get the guard out here to clean up the mess... also anyone know how to unmad a viera, cause when this wears off...."

Luckily, Ka'Len's job is made a good deal easier, with only a few swipes to dodge. Once clear of the Mist field for a few minutes, she sags, falling into exhausted unconsciousness.

End Scene


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