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[Aider Silander]

It was a bloodbath in the simplest of terms. Dira's grasp was clearly over the battle that was taken place before the mans very eyes. A difference in experience between the members of the Scars and himself when it came to combat was evident. He was taking his time with his arrows, trying his best to fire as accurately as he could. As the only one using a weapon of range, he did not want to damage his own allies. He had seen the yelling man with the large blade step out of the mans range, a smart play for his own safety. But Aider did not own a blade and running in with just fist would probably end up getting himself killed.

He snapped back as the man lumbered towards him. His eyes filled with wicked intent as he looked over the Nykian. He reached back to grab three arrows from his quiver and positioned them between his fingers. Their shafts running up the length of his forearm as the mans cruel smile grew on his face. The man stepped forwards and swung the massive blade towards Aider, who slipped back just a tick before as it sliced through the cloth of his shirt that had hung in the air before. A bit of a stumble before Aider regained his footing and was moving forward. Striking out with the heads of the arrows that were protruding from his fist. The savage like tactic of an attacks struck into the mans jaw. Sending vibrations and jolts through Aider's arm. The man fell back on his own feet as Aider grasped around his fist. "Petching hard headed humongous oaf. " He moved quickly again taking advantage of the man while he was down, the blood pouring from his jawline. Two of the arrow heads remained embedded within the mans skin.


He plunged the none broken arrow head into the mans neck. Twisting and snapping it off inside as the man grabbed at Aiders arm and struggled against the Nykians attempt to relieve him of the burden of life. He stood and retrieved his bow, his eyes once again scanning the chaos that had been strung out before them. The clashing of steel on steel and the warm crimson liquid that colored the snow. It was brutal in the simplest sense of the word but not unsuspected. Sunberth was a city of filth and death. A group such as the Scars was expected to meet some violence of their own, if they were not the ones to cause it in the first place. Though Aider suspected that with Kaie in their services that the men and women of the Scars had indeed spilt enough blood in the city. His eyes wandered the scene looking for his alluring lover. Catching the slightest glance of a flash of tan as two figures ran off.

He moved to follow behind her. To make sure that the Myrian did not get herself into trouble, even though he was sure that she could handle herself in a fight. The man was not about to let her just stroll off on her own. Once past the swinging blades and shouts of blood lust, Aider saw what he was after. Kaie had been in a brawl with one of the men who tried to run. He raised his bow with arrow notched as he watched them struggle against each other. He bit down on his lip, hoping for a brief second of a clear shot. He would get none as the Myrian began to win the battle as it ended with a press of the blade against the mans neck. Seeing her fight always made him wonder what it would have been like if she had chosen him as prey rather then that hopeless faun. He saw the crimson liquid that dripped from her rib cage down into the snow below. The blood staining what cloth the Myrian did wear. Aider looked her in the eyes and shook his head. "I wouldn't move if you know what was good for you" He said, aiming his bow with an arrow notched down towards his face. At this distance even he couldn't miss.

[Pulren Marsh]

As he skirted the battle, Pulren could tell a few things. One, his allies and friends were brutal and unforgiving in their killing. He understood this as it seemed that the anarchic town of Sunberth almost infused the killer instinct into people. Two, Their adversaries, while trained professionals, were clearly no match for the Scars. Maybe this was just an expeditionary force, but if not, their main enemy couldn't really be all that bad. Three, most important of the things he observed, was the simple fact that this was no longer his fight.

He felt a kinship with the others and would protect them as he had sworn, but this wanton killing that he had bathed in since he had arrived in Sunberth proper would end after this long night. His shield remained where it always did, up and at the ready, his trident found purchase with the blood stained and stony ground, however, though gripped. A long sigh came from his lips as he watched the visceral attacks. He wasn't particularly surprised by the majority of the fighters, but the mark with his handful of arrows certainly did. From his induction to this ghoulish display of murder, this man's example clearly displayed to Pulren that he was no longer fit for the city he had visited and briefly called home. A good long look brought back his initial moniker for Sunberth: The Armpit of Sylira.

They had their interrogation and judging from Web's fury, he suspected that any and all information would be gleaned as necessary. Making a head count, it appeared all were present. Bitzer wasn't, but he could see her speaking tot the others from the ground and everyone was generally gathering around her. The Zeltivan noticed a kind of shiver under his skin but it wasn't coming from the cold or his sweating. He would make sure that he left as soon as possible. He would more than likely leave all of his comfortable furniture and his fancy clothes behind. He would leave as he came, though now he was covered in scars on the inside and the outside. Scars.

[Fallon]

There was a flinch when she felt the touch of the Konti, arm peeling away from her face. Her mind stuck and muffled within a state of not quite awareness, but still all apparent. Blank eyes blinked, the briefest moments as she considered what exactly was going on. And whilst on the right stood the Konti, the healing hand and worker of life, did the other darker left make its appearance. Saris, the Symestra came, barely whispering and leaving little more than an impression upon her mind - the seed of thought having been planted. Fallon's eyes drifted forward then, to the dead corpse of the wolf at her feet. Breath was driven from her again, the replaying of the scene in her mind, the recording of events as it jarred back into the present, and back to the posed question. She breathed and accepted, "Do."

Her eyes turned, looking to the remaining as they rounded up the leader and brought him to his knees. She could already see those going to assist Kaie, the blood pouring forth in its rivulets. Fallon spoke softly, words barely above a whisper to S'Essy, "Go, tend to the Myrian. She needs you more."

She heard her true name being spoken, her head turning and lifting towards Zandelia as she marched her way over, blooded and hurt. Part of her clenched, form stiffening as she saw the blood closely and felt her stomach twist. The kneeling in the snow, the offering of her hand down. Her eyes looked to the hand, her face creased as she considered it. The accent of Bitzer trembled, faltering down into those rolling, lilting tones from long ago. Her eyes flickered back to Orvin, head lowering as she tried to consider her thoughts. Her injury gave a sting, hand raising up to press against the slash in her shoulder. She shook her head, "No, I..." Fallon pulled at her coat sleeve, raising it up and dabbed it against the forehead slash, "Sorry, Zandelia."

The leader was dragged over - that much was clear - Fallon's own feet coming up beneath her as she forced herself up into standing. She gave a careful step around Orvin, her mind barely spluttering anything coherent out as she forced the steps. The tulwars were discarded where they were dropped, her eyes locking down onto the cursing leader. Fallon gave only a small nod of acknowledgement, and turned her gaze down onto him. Gently, she place her foot upon him and pressed, a void in her gaze as she drunk him in visually and listened to his angry, shouted words.

"Are you done?" came the soft voice once more, though seeping more and more down into monotone. She inhaled, head tilting to one side, "Or would you like to continue for a while longer?"
"You little bitch of a wolf! Get the message though now, right?" He shouted back, spitting and snarling, "We're coming for you! Coming for all you worthless little pieces of shyke!"
"I see. Fascinating."
"Gonna make you all squirm! Just like we did before to you! How's your nails doing?" Part of Fallon writhed at that. Her ripped nails twitched angrily, her hand balling up into a fist and then relaxing. He did not stop his verbal stabbing, luring and looking for an exposure to wriggle within, "Squirmed so much. Begging for his runt of a mistress. Weak! Bunch of you. Nothing but reminders of the past with your pathetic excuse of your anger." She pressed slightly firmer, jaw resting to tremble as she forced a silence, "Got one of your little runts too. Your favourite I bet."

Her eyes lifted at that point, counting among the people, trying to pick out the faces, "Got your little orphan lover. Gonna wreck him. Break him. You'll be able to do nothing. Can't even look after your own men! Pathetic wolf without a pack!"
"You mean to say..."
"Won't even recognise hi-"
Fallon straightened, "Noven. What have you done with him?"
"Wouldn't you like to know. Won't matter. We'll keep on coming. You, none of you are going to live to see spring. Petching die the lot of you. Not the first, sure not going to be the last," his voice darkened then. "We're coming for you little Wolf. Going to skin you all, one by one. Make you bleed and make you watch as the rest are cut before your eyes."
"Where is Noven?" She asked, though the tone was far from demanding - almost as if she had lost the ability to anger at that present time.
"So you can go and free him? Bah! Stupid you are," he sneered, attempting once more to push himself up, "Nah, we're going to let you know you failed him. Just like you've failed them. Going to take you all! You can't hide from us here! You're our prey!"

Fallon felt the chill set in, her jaw setting as he foot with drew. She only gave the smallest glance to the others, followed by a gentle incline of the head to him - his fate was to them now. There was barely the ability to clearly think, let alone give execution. Her eyes looked back across the Quay, a plume of white escaping her lips. Hand resting once more over the injury and pressing in, feeling it throb and sting. She did not want to be here, she did not want the eyes staring at her. But here they looked to her, to lead and judge. The jaw eased, hand withdrawing as she looked upon all the members in their blooded state. And with that, the tough decisions had to be made.

"This fight, we cannot..." She shook her head, frowning, "We need to get Noven out, I won't leave him stuck there. Even if I have to go there alone. But..." She blinked, looking down onto the blood on her hands, her lips pursing into a line. She sighed, forcing herself to straighten, to keep her face steeled despite the roaring sensation within to get out. There was simply only the emotional pain and the resistance to breaking down now, "We cannot stay here any longer. At all. We need to leave. Liquidise everything and leave. I call for the disollution of the Scars. The closing of the organisation. Run from the name, deny the name, or wear it on your sleeve. Your will is your own to pick. I... cannot lead you anymore." Fallon's face distorted, twisting in pain. Turning on her heel she walked away, no longer able to face what was before her, "Liquidise everything, get on a vessel and just go. I just... need to be alone right now."

[Zandelia]

“You have nothing to apologize for,” she sighed as she watched her loved one walk away, or perhaps half-limp might be the best description, “I just wish I knew how to make it all better. I always wish I knew that. For everything. Sunberth, though, seems as if it never wants to change It attacks those who would do it good worse than the rest” she stated bitterly as she ripped a strip of cloth from the shirt of one of the fallen and tied it tightly around her head.

She took a look at the others, battered and bloodied, tired and perhaps miserable. This was to be their home, in time, now it would be but another grave for dead bastards. Shallow graves, perhaps not even that. Dumped into the river would probably be the best course she reasoned as the silence seemed to reach out in a sphere, rippling as it went to pop upon them all, enveloping and then silencing. A death knell in point of truth, this was then end. The end for the Scars, for anything decent upon these sickened and stunted streets. Over, the dream was over, and there was not even pain – not yet. She was accustomed to this, this feeling of failure before the flight out of the region.

To disappear, a puff of smoke upon the breeze…

“Hasten from this place, that which would have tried to heal it. An infection that cannot be drawn out, covering us all with naught but blood and death. It could have been different, we told ourselves that,” she placed her hands behind her head and looked towards the Quay House, past it and across the river, not realizing she was speaking aloud, “we fought for what was right, yet the Gods helped us not a whit. May the idle be damned for their shallow words, giving hope before taking it away. If anyone deserved a chance to live without burden it was the decent people here. Those that have never known peace, never seen a day without war or blood or starvation. I pity this place…that it was too prideful to accept us as the balance” she closed her eye and the hands came down to her hips now.

“Those that can’t help get Noven back then help me with the bodies, dump them in the river if they’re dead. Is Kaie alright? Myrian, you better not die on me now. Not after we shared that heart to heart before. As for this useless lump of shyke, he died of his wounds” she stated with hard words, walking over to the man and stamping upon his throat viciously.

Information was pointless now, they were leaving. The closest city was Zeltiva, the best chance for escape was to take passage upon a boat. They all knew that, yet despite it she would help them all. She would make sure that those whom wished to flee would make it out alive and on the same damned vessel. She owed them that much at least. She had nothing left now, nothing but her meagre possessions and a woman who seemed to have been broken. She couldn’t find it in herself to care about Sunberth anymore, it had ground her down too much. She only cared that her people made it out.

“You heard her, the best way out of Sunberth is by ship. You want to live and can stomach travelling with those as brought this upon you the offer is there. I will pay passage if you can’t afford it. I won’t let anyone die for us who doesn’t need to. Sooner the better, once Noven is rescued. You need help you come to me, Bitze- Fallon…she is off to finish things the way she needs to” she stated, looking at them each in turn before beginning the process of hauling the lifeless towards the waters.

Depths take you all, all of you bastards she told herself venomously.

She could not bring herself to look at Orvin, his lack of life was too much at that moment. It was a pointless loss, nothing had been gained by it. It was a symbol, a symbol of the evil that was the city. It couldn’t be tamed, it couldn’t be changed. She had realised it too late.

[Markus Andres]

It wasn't his wing of trained knights who stood around him, but these men and women knew how to fight none-the-less. Some even outshone his fellow knights, though those words would not be spoken out loud lest the defiler himself tore the words from him. What had been a force of armed thugs had quickly and efficiently dispatched in a brutal manner. The halfway decapitated man that had challenged the knight and whose blood coloured the snow beside his friends and the lost wolf. The sting of Orvin's departure stung him deeper than any of the nine scum had and he didn't offer them more than a glance as the others finished their foes. There was a moment of panic as Fallon fell, but she seemed to be alright and others were by her side quickly. One of those had his panic rise even steeper to near hysterical levels of concern. His pregnant lover was on the battlefield! What was she thinking dragging herself out here! She had no business being out here! He had spent much of his time in Sunberth trying to keep her safe and she wanders directly into a battlefield. Kvist ignored those that still stood and his focus was entirely on S'Essy as he moved to drag her from the battlefield. Another woman appeared in his sight. Web. Fallon's lover, competent fighter. Capable of keeping S'Essy safe under normal circumstances - these were extraordinary circumstances. The Quay itself had been breached. Fortunately they had all been gathered or Orvin may not have been the only casualty. But despite his near tunnel vision upon the Konti lady there was a word that cut through his haze. The singular curse that had him swivel his head in the direction of the savage who had uttered the word. He felt his neck hairs stand on edge at the sound.

Something about the situation was wrong. And it was only the reddening snow that called his attention that something wasn't right over there. No! More fell and Kvist feared that the Myrian had been mortally wounded, each moment he stood still with indecision more drops fell. He growled angrily as he moved swiftly through the stained patches and stepped over the occasional corpse in his hurry to check on the warrior woman. The archer came as well, aimed the bow at the downed man and to Kvist's immense surprise, the man still drew breath. "The petch..." He muttered under his breath, but didn't pay any attention to it, the archer had an arrow on him and that would be enough. Soon kneeling beside her with emerald eyes looking for the wound that stained the ground. There was a tear in the vest. Shielded the wound itself from his eyes but the blood that stained the ground beneath her was evidence enough that something had to be done. His medical knowledge was very scarce, but he had seen enough battlefield wounds to know stemming the flow of blood was important. But while she pinned a man to the ground with her knee, that was would be difficult, though not impossible.

"Let go, the archer can handle him." He said harshly, emerald eyes sparked as he spoke and glanced in the direction of the man he didn't know the name. Without waiting for a reaction one hand moved to the wound and applied pressure as the other hand found her shoulder to stabilize her. It would be painful, but he was trying his best to stem the flow before the warrior woman bled to death. This wasn't some snivelling toddler in need of being coddled. She was a tried and tested warrior and treating her any different would be an insult - and he respected the woman too much for her warrior abilities to insult her.

"S'Essy! Over here!" He called over the shoulder of the Myrian.
.

[Kaie]

She'd been so focused on him, the shyke leader that bled beneath her, secured in defeat by the kukri at his jugular. The savage breathed angry, tired breaths over him, teeth grit as though it had been her interpretation of the order to keep him alive alone that stopped her from finishing him right then. Loyalty. Discipline. Always such double-edged swords. She felt Aider at her side, the tightening of the string of his bow as he drew back an arrow and let free a threat of his own. It wasn't until she heard the second pair of feet rushing toward her. Amber eyes snapped toward the sound. Her tawny left hand gripped her captive by his hair, giving it an authoritative tug upward to further expose the vulnerable flesh of his throat.

Lion's directives were harsh, but commanding in a way that was oddly compelling despite the strangeness between them. Experienced in a way she did not understand. The Myrian furrowed her brow, shot a glance at Aider, then conceded with a nod toward her lover. He can handle this. She took her knee off the man's spine, begrudgingly pulling the kukri away as she dropped beside the golden-haired man. She braced herself up off the ground on a knee and her left hand. "Gods petching damn---!" her curses of anguish broke into a sharp inhalation when the man's hand provoked the wound. Eyes stared upward for a moment, face contorted into a grimace before she looked down at the damage the sword had done. Rather than playing a bystander role in her own survival, the ignorant woman gripped a corner of her cloak. Using the bloodied kukri, she cut a hefty slice from it. Balling it up, she too pressed it to the wound to aid his hand. The savage looked up at him then, a sense of gratitude and apology evident in her gaze when he called for his blonde companion.

"So... what are you two? Some sort of Wave Guard whatever, too?" Kaie gestured her bloody weapon toward Uncle. A wince soon followed, a fury of curses whispered in Myrian under her breath. Her eyes caught sight of the crimson puddle and likewise spots upon the ground after the captive was ripped away. "That was stupid of me," She admitted slowly with a shake of her head. How could she have been so careless with her eagerness to succeed? All she could do was pay attention to the flow of blood from her side and vaguely listen to the exchange between leaders. The dialogue elicited a stubborn shake of her head.

"They attacked our territory. They have Noven." A righteous fury battled with her fatigue and exhaustion. Part of her wished to stand, to tear through the streets and find those to blame had she the strength to do so. Instead she brought the kukri's tip down to the ground with an angry ting. "They killed Orvin. We should be going after them!" The ironic wince that came after was almost like a testament to their group's apparent weaknesses. Nonetheless, she did not retract her claims. The slain wolf had been a loyal companion to their leader. The loss of its life held weight. Among her clan, the only way to properly mourn the loss of a loved one was through retribution. Revenge. A life needed to be taken to pay for the other. That was the way. Whether she got a chance to see to it or not.

[S'Essy]

Fallon. The Web said that one name, S'Essy's brain started to work hard. Fallon. Fallon. It was so familiar to her, and she almost remembered. She looked down at her. Yes, she felt she knew her because indeed she did. That little girl from Mura, her little knight, that child. She has grown up and she was suffering now. It was heartbreaking and the Konti just put her arms around Fallon and hugged her tight. "I remember now, my brave little knight." She said, she almost burst into tears there.

Fallon whispered to her about the Myrian needing her help. Myrian, myrian. She was so familiar with this race to tell where she was. She let Fallon go, and stood up. She had to do what she wanted to. Fortunately her lover helped her, shouting to her. She saw them now, a woman injured, blood was dripping on the snow. She was running there, she was safe for now but that was just the beginning.

She knelt down to her and her hand pressed to her wound. "Okay, okay calm down. You won't even feel it anymore, but you need still few days to recover." She used her power to stop the Myrian's bleeding and purify that wound, using Rak'keli power. That was a success, she looked up at the woman. Giving her a little smile." Maybe I could put a bandage over it if you'd let me, it would help."

She stood up and looked around. Blood, bodies everywhere. Her breath was getting faster, her heart was beating faster too. The image of this was terrible. She wanted to go back Syliras... she wasn't safe anywhere in Sunberth anymore. And her baby, she had a baby. But first she shouted. "Anyone needs medical attention? For your sake and mine, DON'T hide them and DON'T just endure! It can get only worse till I can't help!"

[Amora Jade]

Congratulations, you've been awarded!

 

Fallon

Skills

• Tactics +1
• Leadership +2
• Duel Wield +1
• Weapon: Tulwar +1

Lores

• Palaren's True Name: Pulren Marsh
• Tactics: Luring the Target into a Trap
• Self: Enough of Sunberth

 

Kaie

Skills

• Socialization +1
• Weapon: Gladius +1
• Unarmed Combat +1
• Weapon: Kukri +1
• Intimidation +1

Lores

• Palaren's True Name: Pulren Marsh
• Never Underestimate your Target

 

Shai

Skills

• Observation +3
• Socialization +1
• Tactics +1
• Familiary +2

Lores

• Palaren's True Name: Pulren Marsh
• Tactics: Using Intelligence Instead of Force
• Tactics: Trap your Opponent
• Stepping in After the loss of Bitzer's Wolf Companion

 

Sessy

Skills

• Observation +3
• Socialization +1

Lores

• Bitzer's True Name: Fallon
• Remembering Fallon, the Little Knight

 

Pulren

Skills

• Observation +3
• Socialization +1
• Rhetoric +1

Lores

• Bitzer and Web use Aliases as Well

 

Zandelia

Skills

• Socialization +1
• Tactics +2
• Leadership +2
• Unarmed Combat +2

Lores

• Palaren's True Name: Pulren Marsh
• Tactics: Taking Them out One by One
• Sunberth is a Poisonous City

 

Markus

Skills

• Unarmed Combat +2
• Leadership +2

Lores

• Palaren's True Name: Pulren Marsh
• Some Scars are Better Fighters than Knights

 

Aider

Please update your ledger to reflect the season change then send me a message with the name of this thread and I'll release the grade to you!

If you have any questions or concerns, please don't hesitate to send me a private message! Also, please remember to edit your post requesting the grade as "Graded."

With love,
Miss Jade