[The Sanctuary] Sanctuary Means Survival

[Razkar]

As the others talked, the Myrian paced. Mere chimes ago he was wounded, near-crippled, useless, and now he was... renewed. Armed as a warrior should be and with enemies clamoring entry to meet his blade. But now things were getting complicated.

New arrivals ran into the cavern, footfalls echoing even on sand around the high ceiling. Two children, boy and girl but so alike they must be twins, loaded down with weapons and armor. Two more, adults, follow them. The tall, armored human who had the steady, controlled gaze of a soldier had joined the dark-haired healer around the-

Well, isn't this one full of life.

The white-haired woman - Kav, he thought he name was - was rapping off questions, orders, instructions, some of them too fast for his grasp of Common to understand. But the fragments he did told him much. Down here was secure. The stones gates would hold. But above? There were animals. Supplies. People.

And he knew from short but hard experience that it wouldn't take these monsters long to figure that out.

"So.. thoughts. Headcount. Where do we stand? These gates should hold here and I can solidify them if we are really worried. What we need to defend is up top. That's our lifeblood. Ideas?"

Razkar opened his mouth and before a word could escape the man who had healed him gabbled in Common. This one? Not a warrior. But he was brave enough to be down there, which was enough for Razkar. So the Myrian kept pacing, rotating the gladius in his right hand, the ax in his left, growling so soft under his breath that only he could hear it.

His blood pounded. His heart roared in his ears. His Goddess called through dreams and time and space, bid him take full measure of these monsters again.

"I know I am outclassed here in terms of combat, but I will make sure everyone stays on their feet, okay? I've got to go get dressed. See you all at the front."

Elem (yes, that sounded right) dashed off and Razkar watched him go. He turned back to Kav and pointed after him. Enough of this pointless waiting. The longer they stayed the sooner those creatures would amass in such numbers they would strip everything from the building, living and otherwise.

"Not wait." He growled, loud enough to be heard over the other voices, Common choppy and aggressive as ever, if a little clearer. "Here safe. Horses safe. Er... Zith? Zith not get through. Up is where we go. On surface."

He grimaced briefly. The idea of fighting those things in the open again annoyed him. They were so fast and the sky was their greatest weapon. But they would have to. They had no choice and, once again, that just made it easier for him.

"Make, ah... team. Group. Each place where animals are. People with bow, crossbow, and people with ax, sword, dagger." He gestured to the former two in his hands. "In same group. We fight them. We kill them. But cannot stay in one big group. Where we not, they kill, they steal. Not good. We make groups, we split, we fight."

Razkar prayed that they understood him, and they would get moving. The pounding on the doors was not lessening but the rush of wings and screeches and scratches was. The Zith at the gate were thinning. Tiring. Growing bored and frustrated.

Heading upwards, for easier targets.

[Serrif Von Chatlyn]

He had heard of Zith, but he had never had the misfortune of meeting one until today. Part of him was horrified that such a creature could exist. An entire race driven only by the need to kill? Were they man or beast? Did they even have a construct of remorse? Serrif didn’t know, and the bashing against the door only made the entire situation more real for him. They were not here to discuss feelings or get healed; they were here to kill. As was evident by the situation everyone from the party was in. The way Vanator described them brought him here to reality, he would be fighting not just for himself but for everyone else as well.

“Gianne, Rhy, Iris, Aweston, and the Twins are unaccounted for at this time, along with Tasival.” And just as he spoke their names the twins and Aweston showed up.

“So just Gianne, Rhy , Tasival, and Iris now.” She spoke of poisons…Yes he had a few that he could implement, some medicines were indeed poisons if used in improper doses.

“I got some poisons and I could do a slaughter.” He had mentally prepared himself for the fact that he would have to take a few lives one day. And it seemed that day had reached him a little more quickly than he first thought. He needed to protect the Sanctuaries lifeblood. And everything that mattered was topside, seconds counted.

“I’ll get poisons, as well as Gianne Rhy and Iris. I agree fireteams are our best asset. Gianne, Rhy and I will be one.”Heading from the under area he ran to the lab, here in some drawers he had a few medicines that were dangerous when dosed incorrectly; especially sedatives.

When dosed over the suggested amount Sedatives would stop the heart, cause the body to become lazy slow…and then if you were lucky it would just drop you dead. He had several vials of this substance prepared to be brought up to the clinic. And now he was turning medicine into posion. Even in slight amounts this mixture would be potent.

Then with fast feet he headed to see where Gianne and Rhy were. He knew she was likely in her room. But whatever she was doing obviously had her attention. He needed to break that. So he knocked on her door with a closed fist then called to her through it.

“Gianne, we are under attack, ready yourself get to the armory.” He was sure that his commands were easy to understand.

“Gianne are you there? Where is Rhy?” That girl was almost always with Gianne, the two had become very close. He knew it was likely that Rhy was in the room with Gianne. Which would be a wonderful turn of events for him.

OOCThis is my shoe in for Gianne and Rhy

[Gianne Basete]

Placeholder

[Kavala]

NoteSince no one's posting, I'm moving the thread onward.

Once Kavala was on her feet, she listened to everyone's input and decided that Raz actually made the most sense. "Good ideas." She said to everyone, still sore but on her feet and functional. She started up the ramp, knowing that Kavala had to find Tasival and the twins. A frantic short search found Tasival in the kitchen with Cadre. Kavala ushered them into her suite, left two of the stray Imperial Watchers that normally frequented the Within with them, and told them to stay put for the fight. She took a moment to gear up and grab extra bolts from the armory, and then met everyone with Larik in tow also holding a crossbow in the main tunnel. From there she traveled upwards, leading the way, until they came out north of the clinic in the double door opening to the Within Tunnel on the topside.

Kavala left Serrif to manage the girls because she felt he'd be distracted by their safety anyhow, and hoped her brother and Raz would follow her upwards. She grabbed an extra stimulate, knowing Elem might need his own by the time he got caught up, and quaffed it as she moved, feeling the rush of energy as they moved upwards and into the arena. There were no Zith in the air yet, but it was a matter of time. Kavala rushed the small space to the clinic then stayed in the doorway, using the cover of the shelter shielding the clinic doors to protect herself from the being either grabbed from above or having a spear launched down on her. From there she could cover the Tunnel doors easily and provide crossbolt support to anyone moving across her field of vision.

Then she dropped two quivers of bolts, loaded her crossbow, and got ready. It was obvious the Konti wasn't going to move out into the facility. She was going to make her stand right there at the doorway and hold it until the last possible moment.

Suddenly, she had a thought, vanished into the clinic, and returned with bandaging and rubbing alcohol. Dosing the bandaging in rubbing alcohol, she wrapped the saturated cloth around a bolt, lit it with her flint and steel from her belt pouch, and then sent the bolt into a pile of rubble to the right of the arena. The first bolt went wide, but the second one lodged into the tinder dry pile of debris and ignited it almost instantly.

"Light more piles of debris. We can replace the wood, but it will hurt their vision and their ability to target us I suspect!" She said suddenly, covering whomever from the door while lighting more flaming crossbolt arrows to try and hit debris piles further out.

[Vanator]

Vanator slammed the butt of the battle ax down on the crossbar across the Cave gate, satisfied it would hold. Kavala was right, they would not be banging on it long once a scout noted the easy pickings up top. The cavern was in chaos, jittery and wounded horses moving about, the voices of several individuals rising above the chaos. The Drykas caught the gist of Razkar's comments, as did his sister. Other phrases were overheard, poisons, Tasival, twins. Van nodded to the Myrian as he shoved his way through the herd to the tunnel, his feet pounding as hard as his heart as he skidded into his room. Throwing on the padded vest and chain shirt, he didn't bother with anything else. The bloodied battle ax in hand, the Drykas raced to the armory, grabbed a shortbow and the readied quivers of arrows and bolts and made his way up top.

He arrived up top just as Kavala was returning with the bandages and alcohol. Van saw her bolt ignite a pile of debris. Padding from the tunnel entrance to the clinic doors, he grab a wad of the bandages, doused them with the alcohol. Glancing at his sister, he gestured back towards the tunnel entrance. "I am taking up position there." He would be at an angle perpendicular to Kavala's position. "A good place for crossfire, and I can get out into the open if needed." ...To defend her.

Van moved back to the tunnel entrance, crouching, ducking behind it for partial cover. Laying the ax down, he wrapped a section of soaked bandage around and arrow, and set it to his bowstring, targeting another pile barely visible by the light of the first mound Kav had ignited. Letting it fly, the arrow struck low at the far end, sputtering as a few scraps began to smolder. The Drykas prepared another, firing it further right of the first. The missile hit good wood, and flames began to spread across the pile.

His eyes scanned the sky, now almost black, then to the open courtyard. There was precious little cover there. Van turnned to looked for Raz. He knew the stranger's skill with his weapons. The two of them would make a good team, especially if they moved from cover. He would watch who else appeared, helping to coordinate teams and ensure no one is left with out a defender.

OOCSorry, I totally misread Kav's post, I have edited mine for corrections, Thanks Elem for the heads up.

[Razkar]

Suddenly all talking and debating had died away to furious urgency, people running from the cavern, heading down a tunnel slanting upwards. Razkar watched Kavala and Vanator leave, and decided that where they went, he would go.

But he was not so eager that he forgot to snatch up his bow and quiver of arrows before he left. Those petching creatures didn't want to lower themselves to his gladius and ax? Fine. Then he'd shoot them from the sky and drag the bastards to them.

Kavala branched off to take care of the children, and the Myrian followed, silently approving. They wouldn't be useful in the coming battle, not trained or conditioned like his own people were. They would get in the way. When he came to the end of the tunnel, Vanator was already in the entrance.

The Arena was an open space that should have been ringed by buildings. "Should", because in fact most of them were half-built or merely piles of timber yet to be fashioned into structures. Razkar stopped at the entrance, staying in its shadow... and listened...

Wings. Distant but discernible. Screeching and growling the likes of which he'd heard from the Zith before, but from... below. They were still at the Cave's entrance, battering uselessly against a solid gate. But they would not wait long, not when-

Bleating. Terrified, confused and above all loud noises to the south of them. The animals knew a threat was approaching in that indistinct, infallible way animals always knew. Once the Zith heard them...

Suddenly a bolt of light shot from Kavala's position and flashed over to a pile of debris. Within moments flames four feet tall were licking towards the sky, illuminating half the Arena. He snapped his head to where she stood, crossbow in hand, the scalp in his hair whipped around by the movement.

"Light more piles of debris. We can replace the wood, but it will hurt their vision and their ability to target us I suspect!"

He didn't make out all of that - ability? he'd never heard of anything called "bility"... - but he got the general idea. That these creatures' eyesight at night was fine, but only because it was night. Too much brightness and that advantage would be ripped from them, and they would be vulnerable.

Razkar smiled like a wolf spying a lamb, the expression widening as he saw Vanator's second arrow do the same to a mess of timber on the other side of the courtyard. In the darkness of the tunnel, the Myrian notched an arrow into his bow, drew it back... and looked into the brightened sky...

Flashes of movement. The eerie, sickly sight of fire reflected off leather wings. Metallic gleams of flame on bone and iron weapons. The wet shine off eyes, teeth...

"Myri guide my hand," he whispered, aiming upwards and finding a target, a low-flying Zith now hovering, forearm flung over its eyes in pain and confusion, "And Dira... my arrow."

He saw the beast down his arrow. Saw it fly through the sky, his will with a razor edge and speed he could never have. Saw it cleave through flesh and bone and organs. Saw victory... and death.

Razkar loosed the arrow.

The Zith above the Arena screamed in agony as the broad-headed arrow ripped into its side, tumbling down to the sand as its wings spasmed and lost all coordination. Razkar was already running towards it, barking "Watch back!" over his shoulder, grinning and unsheathing his ax with his right hand, bow held in his left.

The thing's wings beat around itself furiously as it got to its knees, hand pulling at the arrow shaft, flames around it dancing on the stream of scarlet spilling from the hole. Blinded and agonized, it heard footsteps, looked up-

Razkar of the Shorn Skulls screamed in wordless, joyous victory and with a horizontal sweep of his blade, he slashed open the Zith's throat and sent an arc of flaming blood streaming through the night air, and onto his face.

Screeching above him. More wings. He grin was wet and red. He sheathed his sword and drew another arrow, looking to the sky, its darkness now much further than it had been before thanks to the growing inferno bordering the Arena.

Come join them...

[Elem Bree]

Finally together, or as together as he was going to be, Elem started making his way from his room toward the tunnel. His anxiety was a thunderstorm in his solar plexus, his heart hammered away like the relentless angry ocean afterward. He was constantly adjusting his armor, having never worn it before. When he had tried it on at the bazaar, it was still in pieces, getting fitted. It had never occurred to Elem to put it all on, since he had not been under attack up to this point.

Nevertheless, he knew that the others may need him like they had needed him in the cave. His feet continued to shuffle briskly, though he was not running. He had no idea what these creatures were and he wasn't even sure what he could do to fight things that flew. His slinging was still amateur at best and he had never tried doing it at night.

Focus, Elem. Your primary duty is to keep the others healthy and on their feet to do the fighting. Your secondary duty is to protect the children below and the livestock above. Fighting is not what you are going for here. Relax.

He took a deep breath, satisfied temporarily with his little self pep talk, pushing up the tunnel with more urgency. As he approached its mouth at the surface, he could see Vanator cruched there, watching the skies and lifting a crossbow up. There was a light flickering against the cavern walls there. Fire? It pushed Elem harder and faster until he found himself also crouched in the entryway.

Looking across, he could see Kavala to the south in the doorway of the clinic, one of the few buildings to be constructed. That was where he needed to be. It was partially stocked and it would make the best place for him to prepare to heal the wounded. Being next to Vanator would only crowd the warrior, more than likely. Elem's eyes surveyed the scene, various construction materials alight with flame. He could also see the new man, the savage, out in the open fighting. He seemed to have a real zest for killing, so Elem was glad he was on their side.

That's when Elem saw what they were fighting. His mouth dropped open as he saw the creature flapping its wings, hovering above the savage. He could make out its claws. It was truly mosntrous, whatever it was. This logically led his eyes to the skies, as there were no doubt many more of them above in the night, their ebon forms camouflaged there. The fires' necessity became clear.

"Van, I've got to get to the Clinic with Kavala. That's where I will set up shop to do medic. Cover me, please." His eyes met Kavala's briefly as he pointed to himselfand then pointed just beyond her to the interior of the Clinic. It was dangerous and probably stupid to go out in the open, but the supplies and a solid table to work on were in there, so that's where he had to be. Elem was afraid, there was no doubt of that. But he knew that he had to act anyway. He gripped th dagger in his hand fiercely and didn't wait for any more signs. He just started pushing himself out, keeping his body and profile low.

It wasn't a long distance, but once Elem was out from the safety of cover, he felt like the distance extended itself many times over. All he could think of were sets of eyes on him, like hawks spying a mouse in the field. His eyes were set on Kavala. If she looked like she was looking at something behind him, he would just break into a full sprint. As it happened, however, he was fortunate. Maybe the savage had drawn their attention. Elem was thankful for that.

Once in side the clinic, Elem could see that the firelight outside illuminated the open interior well enough to get around. He started pulling the various scrolls from the kits in his rucksack as well as bandages and anything else he had brought. he kept his armor on, but the hoe, the slings and the dagger were placed on the tablenearby. His primary goal was to prepare a healing station.

"Tell me what you need.", Elem said to Kavala. He fingered three of the stimulant vials he had salvaged and set them out on the table as well. "I found those stimulants if you need one. I am setting up a healing station and we can bring injured to this location. I don't know what else to do."

it was probably the most honest sentence Elem had said in a long time..

[Kavala]

Kavala had set her pile of supplies up just inside the doorway of the Healing Clinic where the overhang gave her some cover from the sky. The stimulate was kicking in that she'd quaffed on the way from stashing Cadra and Tasival below so she was in full motion when she unloaded her arms. After alighting everything that would burn within the immediate area, Kavala lifted her arms and called forth res. The stone overhang expanded and she was able to step more closely out onto the rock pathway. Gesturing again, she pushed more res, generating it in big gushes, well practiced from the work on The Sanctuary.

Razor sharp stone spikes burst from the ground, thrusting skyward, razor sharp because they were of obsidian that gleamed deadly in the illuminated firellight. The spikes destroyed the courtyard stonework, but Kavala didn't care. She ran them from the clinic to the tunnel cave and made them ten feet tall, easily enough for the defenders below to move among, but to any Zith falling from the sky they'd be instant death. Gods it felt good. Reimancy on the fly, without precision? Yes.. let them come.

She practically glowed with pleasure from the casting, the wicked spikes now a forest of stone sprouting up between the clinic and the tunnel protectively.

Kavala retreated to the clinic doorway, nodded to Elem's words, and refused the stimulate. "I got one, thanks." To his other question she simply grinned. It was a warriors grin, one that looked as if it anticipated the bloodlust. Kavala stooped, picked up one of the spare crossbows she had carried up along with the piles of bolts, and said... "Look here! Pay attention, this is how you load one of these." Kavala said as she fitted the bolt into the locking chamber and then cocked the gun, pulling the bolt into cock the crossbow.

"Elem, hon.... I want a lot of things. I'd start with Ronan moving in here and pledging his undying devotion to me and this cause and never riding off into the sunset again. But that's never going to happen, so I'll just suggest killing all these Zith. Every one of them." She said, as if she were asking for a new hammer or a nice bouquet of flowers. Kavala, in a sassy half-joking tone. Oh she wasn't joking about the zith. She did want them dead. But she was only half joking about Ronan.

Then she got right back to the Crossbow.

"This is how you load them. Keep loading them. Keep firing up. You are bound to hit one sooner or later. Just keep it up. Aim if they get close, just fire randomly if you see or hear a bunch above you. We want them falling on the spikes. We want them dead." She said, and thrust the crossbow into his hands. She tossed a quiver of bolts towards him as well. "There's more over here where those came from." She said, gesturing to the supply Vanator brought from the armory. They had roughly a hundred bolts in quivers and she had her own supply of twenty on her back. Together, her and Elem could do a great deal of damage from the clinic doorway.

"You can heal if we need it. But now is not the time. Now is the time to kill.." She said fiercely, knowing now was not the time for him to worry about setting up a triage like he'd been trained.

[Gianne Basete]

It felt like her brain had swollen and was scraping against the inner walls of her skull. Everything she looked at was in a blur of tears, like a permanent film had been placed across her eyes. Gianne had never in her entire life experienced a headache such as this. She'd woken up with it oddly enough, when any other headache she'd ever had disappeared with sleep. But this one was definitely a severe migraine. She lie in bed, hands holding either side of her head as if that would stop the pain. It felt like he skull was splitting at some invisible seams, scoring down behind her eyes and pulsing like a war drum. Fitting for what was happening outside her door in the Within. She could hear all the commotion when it started and it only helped to renew her tears, now with a sense of uselessness and helplessness. Rhy had sat by her bed this whole time, as she tried to muster the courage to stand, staring at the door as only the best sort of watch dog would. When Serrif came calling, knocking fervently on her door, the sound made her whimper. It was like every little thump or rustle sent her brain into a chaotic dance of lights. She felt Rhy's cool hand touch her sweaty forehead and she blinked blearily, trying to dispel the blur plaguing her eyes. But to no avail. "Have to get up," she told the Kelvic curtly, not wanting to speak any more than she had to. Gingerly she sat up on the bed and swung her feet over the edge. Her hands went right back to the sides of her head as if the hold it together. Her skull was the anvil and an Isur was pounding his massive hammer into her repeatedly. "Help," she mumbled through gritted teeth. If it sounded unkind she didn't mean it to. It was hard to sound pleasant when a hornet nest was buzzing in your skull. One of Rhy's hand went under her elbow with the other standing around her waist, and then Gianne was standing. She made a strange sound in the back of her throat, almost like a dog whining. Another whimper, this time strangled from the effort of not falling back onto the bed and weeping. Rhy thankfully kept her hold on her as they moved toward the doorway. On the way Gianne carefully picked up her bow and quiver, as well as her dagger. The bundle was held tightly to her chest as if it were a lifeline and she was bobbing in an ocean storm. Her hands shook, wanting to compress the sides of her head again. It at least made the pain the faintest bit more tolerable. Rhy opened the door for them and led her out into the hall. "Where to?" Her head swam as the hammer hit the anvil again, her body swaying with the pounding of the drum in her skull. The film of tears over her eyes made it extremely hard to see anything but blobs of color. Or maybe it wasn't just tears, but the migraine affecting her vision. Could they do that? Ironic that her eyesight was the key to using the only weapon she knew how to use in a fight. "Lead the way," she ordered shortly through thin lips. What would they do when they got to the fight? Could one of the many healers take away her headache? At the moment she was a liability. Rhy would be in danger trying to protect her since she couldn't really defend herself in this condition. Fear clutched at her heart like an icy hand as the thought asserted itself. I have to find someone who can help me. OOCHey, better late than never right ya'll?

[Rhy]

Rhy could hear the Zith. She wasn't sure what they were until a few minutes ago, when they invaded the Above. She's seen them from distances on the grass. Always making those awful noises that made her ears pin back. But never so close. She imagines the leathery wings, teeth and claws and is desperate to run out and help. Help the staff, help the dogs, anything. But Gianne can't move. Any attempt to do so ended in horrible raking sobs that made it sound like she was dying. And for all Rhy knows, she is. So Rhy paces between the door and the bed, stiff with that primal instinct. Torn between guarding one precious person and helping the whole. Passing a caring hand over her bonded's feverish forehead just as much as she is silently snapping her own teeth and tossing her head. When Serrif knocks and Gianne demands she help her up. She does so without a word, helping her to the door and greeting Serrif with a savagely grim face. But when Gianne asks to be led outside, she speaks up for the first time. "No." She speaks to Serrif rather then Gianne. The woman is ailing, and likely not thinking straight. "She's sick. She'll be a liability. Heal her if you can. You know she's a pretty good shot when not..." She clears her throat. "If you can't, take her to wherever Tasivil is. She'll protect the baby even if she's dying." This is so much different then being chased, scared, or attacked outside the walls. Those times leave a feeling of being boxed in with a deep, resounding dread and fear. This time they are being attacked at their own home. She's not being aggressive, or lashing out in fear like her other fights. Its making her defensive. Its a new, powerful feeling that rings through her like a bell. She hands Gianne to Serrif, watchful of his full arms and his bow. If she trusts anyone with her bondmate, it would be the healer. He is the only one in this facility that she would ask this from. "I dont know what I'm doing. I-I have to help them. Theres nothing I can do for Gianne. But you can." If Serrif doesn't stop her, their little band of fighters will be swapping a healer and a good bowman for a half-baked, feral girl. But she doesn't give him time to argue. Rhy grabs Gianne's face in both hands and kisses her forehead roughly. Not a moment before running down the hallway, calling over her shoulder in a dull growl of a voice; "petching keep her safe, Serrif!" The sprint to the armory is taken in record time, stripping her clothes as she runs. The training room and the storage are both open, and seem to have been picked through. She grabs the fist thing she finds, a light mace with a cruelly barbed metal head. One of the good things about being a brawler is being completely adaptable. She judges her find good enough and heads for the surface. What she sees there stops her in her tracks. No more does she come up under the lip of the Within that she spots a forest of stone spikes some ten feet high. An acrid, burning smoke tinged with alcohol fills the sky so that she can hardly make out the arrows being fired. The Zith are much easier to spot. Chirping and screeching as they are, diving down before being stopped by the clever defence. Her confidence wanes. Here she is, naked, clutching a crude weapon she doesn't know how to use, against a host of flying monsters. She is suddenly afraid. But pushes it aside and lets her territorial instincts take over again. Now is definatly not the time to be tucking tail.