The Myrrish army and Alexandrian forces begin the war anew, only to have their airships run afoul of nethercite mines left in the sky. They crashland, and march, only to find the town they'd headed towards now a ghost town that shows evidence of Kinnevack's necromancy.

 

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--<* The Front Lines *>=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

  Soldiers' footsteps become the soft shuff-shuff of ghost-trails along the relocated front lines. Hundreds and thousands of feet have crossed the roads between Sendor and Bludgun since the war began. Once clad in boots, uniforms both homespin and regimented, the bones and footprints of these soldiers now create a terrible pathway.

  They line a well-beaten road, which stretches east and west into either horizon. The ruin that was Gettys towers lies along its west end, and beyond that, the Myrrish encampment. Ahead towards the east, lies the heart of Sendor and eventually, Vinas Solmnus.

  The front lines exist in a valley, and on either side spring hills: what trees there had been in the immediate area are damanged and blasted away. Fall's promise brings frost and warm colors: small, glittering crystals that light on stone, earth, and bone alike, and leaves decorate the landscape.

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-- Contents --=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

 Monstra A blonde giant of a woman in robes. 20s 2h

 Ronak Towering Orcish Priest of Maul'thog. 14m 42m

 Hekton Giant Robot with sword, axe, and cardoor. 2m 9h

 Karelin Tattooed Korite warrior. Tall, dark and scarred. 4m 3h

 Chandrakanta Dredlocked Veyshanti Averite with ink and blades. 7s 17m

 Sirene 5'8", ebony hair, mediterranean blue eyes 6m 47m

 Svarshan A darkly scaled layman of the Daeusite faith 0s 10s

 Whirlpool 0s 5d

 SiAmun Dark-skinned, muscular, tattooed young highborn male. 55s 4h

 Roland 6'3" charismatic man with auburn curls and hazel eyes 1m 17m

 Ceres Silver-haired elf, tall and extremely graceful 1m 5h

 Ellarian A medium height bronzed skined elf with ruddy red hai 31s 45m

 Sophia A young highborn woman in priestly attire. 59s 8h

 Ylva Black hair, hazel eyes and a look of primal savagery. 32s 29m

 Chiddle Dark haired gnome dressed in in Artificer's garb. 10s 3h

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= Exits -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

Fort Getty's <FG>  

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

It's Eliday, Khael 06 20:21:50 1006. The full moon is up. The tide is high and rising.

A cold wind blows from the west, driving charcoal clouds before it and blotting out the stars in isolated patches overhead. The air is clear and elsewhere the stars shine brightly.

Monstra has reconnected.

Monstra has partially disconnected.  

The day has arrived 

 One can feel it in the crisp, winter air. Whispers carried on the wind say that Prince Verin himself has returned to the front once. While he hadn't dissappeared since the battle of for Gettys, the clean up had taken longer than expected to dig out. Reports, current reports, indicate that Kinnevack's forces have not been idle in all this time, but there have been no pitched battles since the siege 

 In the meantime, airship after airship has arrived at the front lines -- leading to the assembling of a fleet the size of which has not been seen since the Crown Wars. And that is where you stand today -- here on the front lines with rising anticipation. The forward march is going to begin again. Airships are landing and taking on compliments of soldiers, again and again. This has been going on for *days* now. The reasoning should be obvious to all: The push is going to involve quite a bit of airship transport, especially as winter is setting in in full force. In fact, it's actually starting to snow right now 

 Nobody wants to fight a winter war, but the people of Sendor can ill afford to live another winter under Kinnevack's tyranny, or at least that's what the Prince has been reputed to've said when he ordered it, according to soldier's gossip around the campfires.

Monstra is meanwhile atop her ugly black warhorse, attempting to 'comfort' the huge, vile beast,"Okay, pooky... now listen... I know it's really far off, but no biting the fingers off your handlers, okay? You remember what happened last time? Yeah. We don't want any of that happening, okay? Good boy. Goooood boy." She murmurs further in the horse's ears, apparently still doing her best.

Sophia looks at the sky, and frowns, "Not the best weather for an offensive." She shakes her head, gathering her cloak around her as she murmurs a faint verse from the Scriptures, eyes narrowed in thought.

Ronak has disconnected.

Svar looks over his shoulder at the front lines. He shudders and draws the cloth tighter. The surcoat fits well over the armor, though the latter fits all too loosely these days. He's leaner than he should be, though less burdened. The pace which he marches amid the group of Daeusites is almost human-quick. Srassha isn't with him.

Hekton doesn't know about the rising anticipation part, but he is definately standing on the front lines. After having marched a ways from the ships, clanking with every step. He is always prepared to move, and just walks around with his shield strapped to his arm, as if he expects an attack at any time. He watches the preparations with dispassionate eyes, silently taking note of everything he sees and learning all that he can about the workings of the vast machine that is an army at war.

Ceres is bundled up for once, even to the point where a knit thing is pulled down over the tips of her ears. ".. If I wished to be snowed upon, I would have chosen another profession..." she murmurs, more to herself than not, as she glances about, fingers twitching a touch.

Sirene stays towards the back on her chestnut warhorse horse companion, Sorriso. Sirene herself might as well be the harbinger crow sitting on the steed's back. What with the raven feather mask that conceals her features and blend into her ebony tresses that get tossed about by the winds. Armor hidden beneath cloak of black fur. One hand on rests on the hilt of her scimitar as she watches.

Chiddle goes OOC.

Chiddle has left.

Usha has arrived.

Ellarian comes to the Front lines, atop his warhorse, T'lor (his Hawk) Resting on his shoulder. He looks at those assembled and hmm's to himself, as some of them here He's worked with before and there's a few he hasn't. So for now he just waits to see what's happening and where he'll be needed 

Ylva is present, and looking rather uncertain. She's not used to war, being a child of the lonely wilds. So many people set for battle disconcert her, but here she is, apparently willing to stand and fight. The ranger has a new bow with her, and a fresh quiver of arrows.

Usha is here on the front line. Though there have been many events either at or near the war front recently, many of them have been... at best disgusting. At worst... REALLY disgusting. Usha is sporting a new dress today, which bears the hips but covers up to her neck. She's also wearing a crescent moon pendant from a silver necklace around her neck.

Cold doesn't agree with the Veyshanti, she combats it with a thick black fur wrap. The skin of a direwolf. Chandra is keeping company with the cadre of Averites on the front. They cradle warm cups of very thin smelling tea around a small fire. Horses tied closeby, feedbags strapped on.

 A snort by the warhorse, as Siamun looks on..Holding the reins, tightgly with one spiked hand, the other, moving his large sword over, so he can more easily have it in hand for battle. A glance over at the druid and ranger, and few others.. As only his eyes can be seen peering out from his helm. The black, spiked plated armor, is a dark contrast to the snow thats falling around him. Another glance at those assmebled on the frontlines.. Only his black cape can be seen blowing in the wind..

Roland watches the airships come and go, arms crossed about his chest before walking over towards the Averites, "Don't suppose there are any targets left in say...marching range?" He asks before turning a pointed look at the flying DoomMachines.

Karelin catches snow on his tongue, as he gets the last of kit packed up. He settles a bright red cloak around his shoulders, then puts a wolfskin over top it as well. Checking everything again, he takes up his bow and ambles towards Roland and Chandra, shaking his head. "Everything worth destroying is further afield by now, Roland."

Certainly, there isn't going to be enough airships for everyone to fly on, and certainly, there's no desire for many to actually be *on* them. Another one lands, though, and enough group of soldiers scurry aboard. It's all very organized. Groups of irregulars are definitely being called up on to them as well.

Monstra comes trotting up aside SiAmun now, looking over the armor with a certain frank approval,"Spikey. I bet that's all sorts of fun when you get around to hugging someone in battle." With that, though, she spurrs her horse forward. Even if horses aren't allowed, she doesn't seem inclined to STOP until someone tells her not to. So she heads her horse onto an airship.

"You're walking," jests one of the Daeusites.

"I know," sourly.

"I mean--you could be riding. There's nothing wrong with riding..."

"I /know/." Wry. Svar tailflicks good-naturedly towards the speaker, a tall, lean Daeus-man atop the requisite warhorse. The ribbing, apparently, has been going on a while and he stops as the airship lands. And...heads that way. There's laughter behind him--but it's the sort you flick your tail at, and he does, and march on /anyway/.

Sirene watches the airships load but stays steadfastly on her horse, on the ground. Though she does watch the ships with interest as they fly away.

Usha glances about, inspired and aweed and more than a little bit frightened by the enormity of the task at hand. She looks around a bit at all the people about, and then finally she gets causght up into a march which is heading onto an Airship, though unlike many adventurers here, she's yet to develop a healthy fear of flying.

Karelin starts towards the airship, striding away. He cracks his neck from side to side, playing casually with his bowstring as he goes.

Ellarian watches as many board the ships and spots Sirene and smiles, Go figgure that mask of her's quite easy to recognize. He brings up his mount until its next to hers. "So fancy a bit of flying today, or you more incline to ride to where were needed.?" he asks his fellow druidess.

Hekton watches the ships impassively, making no move to board any of them. Wood. Such an inferior construction material. He turns as he hears Monstra speak, and notices the man's armor. He strides over, CLANK, CLUNK, CLANK, CLUNK, and inspects the man's armor with a professionally critical eye. "Spikes on the armor. Interesting. That is very helpful, I bet, when fighting monsters. I appologize if () presence offends (). Merely checking out () armor." Instead of using pronouns, he makes a strage metallic *Click*.

"... Perhaps the airships will be, at the least, warmer?" Ceres muses a moment, then catches sight of several familiar irregulars, heading towards one of the airships. Well, one or two, but both are big enough brutes to be spotted a distance away. Still and all, that is enough to send the elven bard towards them - well, until half way, when she pauses to check several vials. "Oh, good. I forgot anything for falling..." she laments, before continuing on.

Taking a horse onto an airship is acceptable, in this instance. 'Gear' as well as men are being transported, after all, and there's many. More land. More take off with a compliment of soldiers. It should be noted that a few seem dedicated to the purposes of the irregualrs, where as others seem dedicated to the 'regular' Myrrish and Alexandrian armies. Many of these vessels seem to be converted merchant ships -- which probably isn't the best thing for trade, but the needs of the army are the needs of the army.

Roland takes a moment to stall, that is to look over his bow before turning to follow Karelin towards the airship with a grumbled, "That's what I was afraid of.."

Sirene turns her mediterranean blue eyes to Ellarian which seems colder with the war mask on. "No flying today. I don't have wings and Sorriso prefers the ground. We will ride. 

Not being an organised sort, Ylva just follows what she knows. In this case, it's the familiarity of people she knows. The huntress follows Monstra to the airship. "Hello," she says. "I've never been to war before. I don't know what it's like."

"There may be, Roland, ones for the Myrrs to tend to, they give us the shite work." Chandra speaks with her usual brash candor. Stopping to give instructions to the groom, "Make certain he doesn't eat too much alfalfa." Turning to head to the airship, speaking as soon as she's on deck at one of the crew, "this ship falls out of the sky before we make it into the city, I am going to be very angry."

  The warhorse, Siamun is only, begins to trot slowly forward.. A glance is given in Hekton's direction, and the woman who rode off a minute ago.."Your presence doesn't offend me, your here to not die as I, and kill others for the mere purpose, whatever reason brings you here..Though can't imagine why a warforge would be here?"

Ronak has connected.

Meanwhile, Monstra is working to corral a few of the more battle-loving soldiers and is trying to start up some cheerful singing,"Oh, Winter Solstice time is a grand ol' time-" Two or three seem to have taken it up. She's even conducting with her hands from atop the horse. Trying to up morale, at any rate.

Usha sidles up to Ylva, "I've never been in a war, either." She comments, and adds, "But, from what I can tell, we mostly get unusual jobs anyway. I'm Usha, by the way. Usha Val'vaarhadim." she tells Ylva, then.

Svar stops near the airship's entrance and leans on the railing. He looks tired and worn--the tail flickers this way, that, never settling. At Monstra's conduction, he starts to grin. Raising morale, indeed, and midway through it, he relaxes more easily against the railing.

Ellarian smiles at Sirene and looks around and catches sight of a familar form on horse back. With a nod of his head he motions Sirene in SiAmun's direction "Seems our fabled fighter friend plans on boarding maybe he's got a point. Not sure how far we'll have to go and why put a strain on our mounts when we dont have too?"

 Its then that Ellarian moves his mount forwards towards the same Airship that SiAmun is headed for, and hopes there's room for them all. He looks over his shoulder. "Come on Sirene, could be fun." as he gives the Druidess a goofy smile.

Ceres calls out, as she starts up to the the ramp to the airship, "If someone can find me a drink to warm my hands, I might be able to provide musical accompaniment?" she semi-offers, hands under her arms, bow over a shoulder.

A face that hasn't been seen much the last few weeks (He was assisting the higher ranked Priests in the local Temple of Angoron) moves among the milling crowd. Though his Maul is resting on his back, Ronak seems to be giving more attention to a slender oak wand he holds in one hand. Healer Corps, go.

Sirene looks forward then back to Ellarian and the airship. Sorriso dances in place before he's turned to follow Ellarian.

Karelin grins at Svar. "Did you bring wings? Or fur? I'll be cold." He starts securing his cloaks with leather ties, and shaking his head. "I do hate this."

Hekton CLANK CLUNKs along after SiAmun. "I am here because there is a need for people of Alexandria to defend, to fight. I am honing () skills in warfare, for that is different than honing skills in adventuring."

Aleron has arrived.

Roland looks over to Svarshan as the lines flow towards the airship, arching a brow as he's left wondering just how the lizard is going to deal with the weather as well.

  "War is war, regardless if your fighting monsters, bandits, or vile undead. Your skills are honed each time you survive or you are the one remaining standing.. As for defending others?" A deep chuckle resounds from his helm, as he starts the warhorse up the ramp "Thats a discussion for another day and time.." a glance around, and spots Ellarian and Sirene.."Well hurry it up! Hell we don't have all day to get this shit over, its cold out here.."

A light cough, a suggestion of a grin. "It is. I'm just glad Srassha's safely back home. They're going to hatch soon, you know." Warmth, contentment carries with it in those words...a warmth and contentment that fades some as he catches sight of SiAmun, as the setting sun. "...last I'd heard of him, he'd been trying to summon one of Maugrim's nightmares. It upset the Academy, some."

Ellarian catches up to SiAmun and the Warforg and he grins, "What you dont have protective spells to keep you all warm and cozy?" he asks teasingly. "Might wish to look into that. " he comments to his well armored friend. He looks at the warforge and blinks, "and who is this?" he asks.

On the largest ship, the present flagship of the combined fleet of the Myrrish and their allies, Prince Verin stands at the bow with his advisors. This can be seen briefly, as the Prince is never a hard fellow to miss, what with all that golden armor and the great sword across his back and the flowing locks and highborn blood. A great pair of golems remain on the airship with him, shaped to the visage of gret Myrrish Knights. What is being said can't be heard, but finally, both on the air and the ground, the order is given and passed down the lines. "MOVE OUT. 

 And with that, the fleet begins to move forward slowly, along with the ground forcess as well.

Chandrakanta pulls up fur closer around her neck, "The ship is going to be full of bodies," Its almost a warning, "We might want to make sure we have a good place to keep our eyes open, Korite." She's addressing Karelin as she begins to look for a good vantage point near the front. She asides to Darshan, "the stables are still open at my parents for the hatchlings when they are ready." 

Ylva turns to Usha and nods. She bites her lip. "Um, yeah. Very unusual. Maybe a war will be more ordinary. I am Ylva, and we have worked together before, I rememeber. Under the rocks we found a whatsit. The flying head thing and skeletons."

Hekton looks at the ramp dubiously, then seems to relax subtly as SiAmun easily mounts it with his horse. He waits until the man is at the top before starting his ascent, and, once up, positions himself next to the engines so as to not possibly crack the flooring. He bows, stiffly, to Ellarian. "I am Hekatoncherie, but I have been informed that () name is too much for organic throats, so () may call me Hekton."

Ceres ends up near the singers, even if she does not join them, the group on the airship near the rails. Not that she stays near the rails. For some reason, the idea of being away from the rails seems attractive, as she makes her way more inward.

Karelin glances over, "Mrh. Unfortunate." He nods to Chandra, then exhales. "We should keep a look out, either for their airships, or for wyvern riders."

Usha nods her head, "I don't think I introduced myself properly that time." She says to Ylva then, and then glances about. "I'm going to find somewhere quiet to... um... hide. Most folks don't like my race very much becaus eof the war and the slaves and the torture." a momentary pause, and then she adds, "Oh! But, I don't do that stuff. Not that people believe me. Ever."

Ellarian nods to the warfogred and follows SiAmun onto the waiting airship, "No sense in getting left behind. " as his mount clamber up the ramp, the hooves echoing a bit as they hit the wood and steel ramp.

Ronak marches up the ramp to the airship. He looks about it curiously. Maybe it's his first time on one of the things.

Sirene follows Hekton up the ramp on Sorriso. Once on board she slips off the steed and makes sure he's secure. Then her attention turns back to the mechanized man with no little amount of curiosity. "Nice to meet you ..Hekton."

Aleron wanders into the scene, peering at the crowd gathered at the airship. So far... nothing too unusual... compared to 'normal', anyway? He follows the regulars along, holding his briefcase on his arm as a writing surface, a piece of paper affixed by a leather strap upon it, and seems to be scribing with a pen as he steps with his methodical pace, seemingly in no particular hurry.

Roland frowns, "Ugh...I remember what happened to the last idiot to do that." He just gives a small nod to Karelin and Chandra, "Especially with these ships...No telling how much armor, if any has been added."

Monstra finishes her first song and starts up on another winter solstice song. A few more join in this time, somewhat less subdued, at least.

Sophia hmmms, and shakes her head, "I think I will be needed more on the ground than in the skies." She smiles faintly, "Besides, you don't need 'tossed priestess' flying around the deck when the ship is in a fight, do you?"

"...I appreciate it. I know she does, too," Svar glances at Chandra, quickly down again at the boarding crowds. He rests along the airship's railing, and the--oddest--thing. The air around him, in a radius, begins to warm.

Totally cheating. Totally. And completely unashamed of it 

"Ah, um. Torture?" Ylva doesn't like the sound of that. "I don't know of your race." She peers. "You're an elf, right? I don't know much about elves." She's looking awkward, as if she feels she said something improper.

Chandrakanta works towards the bow of the ship. Glancing back at Roland, "Maybe you can talk to their Wyvern like you did that one, if we see any." Wishful thinking on her part. She grabs one of the rope attached to the deck after she taking a place near a rail, tying it to her leg to give herself an anchor incase things go wrong.

"Deck the halls with foebeast entrails, falalalalala, lalalalala!"

SiAmun pats the warhorse's neck, to make sure it remains somewhat calm. A deep exhale..as he glances around.."Make sure you know who your allies are in this fight, with most of the ones who are here, they preach one thing and do another..Still, not sure much honored can be earned here, fighting in such a massive battle, we are the cannon-fodder, as it were.. the accolades will go to those who do less, or more well known in ass-licking circles"

Usha shakes her head a bit, "I am an elf, but a Shadow Elf. Shadow Elves are... not very well liked. For some very good reasons, for the most part. But, there are some who don't follow the usual ideals. And, we're mostly exiled or dead."

Ellarian manages to dismount from his warhorse, and poor T'lor has his head buried in Ellarian's hair as he struggles to keep calm even with the druids help. After securing his warhorse he finds the warforged, SiAmun and Sirene and smiles. "Well Hekton was it, will be interesting to see you inaction, my skills are definately not the most combat oriented but I'll do what I can to be of assistance."

Karelin finds a perch near the stern, climbing up on a stack of crates to get up on. He counts his arrow-fletchings, checking them for straightness, as he goes.

Roland looks over the railing while shaking his head, "We'll see -- Though I doubt there'll be a big enough break in the battle to try. 

Ylva looks at Usha for a while, and just shrugs. "I don't know about Shadow Elves. Humans are different colours. So are elves. You seem alright to me."

Sirene wanders closer to Hekton in a curious manner. Standing before the warforged she looks up and up at the metal giant. "May I?" She asks reaching somewhat towards its large metal hand.

"Slash their guts and spill their bile, falalalala, lalalalala!"

Svar rests comfortably there. Cheating. /Totally/ cheating, and if he could--he'd probably make it as warm as the jungle, as warm as Am'shere. The paladin's tail flickers contentedly, though, as he watches the crowds. After a while, he peels away and drops near the crates.

Of course, Svarshan isn't the only one that's cheating. 

 Wizards from Rune appear to have been stationed throughout the fleet at various points, spells cast to help keep the weather under control. Indeed, everyone is wietness to the way the winds blow favorably, the snows stop, for a certain radius that the army is passing through. Linked spells to control the weathr are, so far, ensuring that the march is at least not as impeded by the weather as it might otherwise be. Still, even with this, the ground forces are going to be trudging through the snow and leaving a muddy mess in their wake 

 Armies move slowly -- even when they're using airships. Simply maintaing the integrity of the line and connection to the ground forces slows everything down. Still, all this and no sign of Kinnevack's forces, though the ground forces encounter refugees fleeing the shattered-by-earthquake landscape 

 All this, however, and not a single sign of Kinnevack's forces so far as the eye can see. At least not yet. This is leading to some unease for the soldiers. You're still a time away from Sendor's first major city and there's bound to be Kinnevack's Men there, and nobody is looking forward to the idea of brutal house to house fighting to take a city from them -- which it seems more and more likely you're going to be looking at.. Some are already whispering that whatever you face there will be but a precursor to the eventual taking of the capital 

 All appears to be going well, though -- too well, of course -- so that means that something horrible has to happen. And it does 

 There is a flash of light from higher up above the airships. Many, small flashes of light, actually, through the nights sky and the sky *shines*. Glitters for a moment, actually, with what seems almost like the dust of many, *many* falling stars.

Usha smiles a bit at Ylva, "Thanks! I... don't often hear that." she says to Ylva, then, and says, "But... I'm still going to find somewhere unobtrusive to ride out the jorney. Some people aren't as open minded as you." She tells Ylva, and then she offers her a little smile, before she heads out.

-------------------- At a glance around The Front Lines --------------------

Aleron 8s 5'8" 165 Lb  

  An unassuming man with a briefcase   

Usha 22s 5'8" 119 Lb Shadow Elf Female  

  Shadow-elf dressed in white. Big hair.  

Svarshan 0s 6'4" 274 Lb Sith'makar Male  

  A darkly scaled layman of the Daeusite faith  

SiAmun 57s 7'2" 355 Lb  

  Dark-skinned, muscular, tattooed young highborn male.   

Roland 26s 6'3" 220 Lb Human Male  

  6'3" charismatic man with auburn curls and hazel eyes.  

Sophia 20s 5'8" 153 Lb  

  A young highborn woman in priestly attire.  

Karelin 5m 6'2" 232 Lb Human Male  

  Tattooed Korite warrior. Tall, dark and scarred.  

Ceres 15m 5'8" 130 Lb Grey Elf Female  

  Silver-haired elf, tall and extremely graceful  

Ellarian 1s 5'5" 145 Lb  

  A medium height bronzed skined elf with ruddy red hair and peircing grey  

Chandrakanta 41s 5'6" 140 Lb Human/Veyshanti Gurl  

  Dredlocked Veyshanti Averite with ink and blades.  

Ylva 45s 5'5" 125 Lb  

  Black hair, hazel eyes and a look of primal savagery.  

Sirene 4m 5'8" 150 Lb Half-elf Female  

  5'8", ebony hair, mediterranean blue eyes  

Monstra 57s 7'0" 160 Lb  

  A blonde giant of a woman in robes.  

Hekton 1m 7'6" 575 Lb  

  Giant Robot with sword, axe, and cardoor.   

Ronak 22s 7'0" 350 Lb Orc Male  

  Towering Orcish Priest of Maul'thog.  

Whirlpool 48s Lb  

==============================================================================

Hekton looks at Sirene curiously, then extends his hand for her to look at. While he does that, he looks up to Ellarian, nodding. "() combat skills are fairly good, though I calculate that I am at a mere 17% of () full fighting capability. That is another reason to have journied here. To increase () skills."

As the first dust brushes his shoulder--Svar's head snaps upward. He stares. He stares HARD. And then he's scrambling to his feet. The easy expression's gone. The easy expression's stabbed out with hot pokers--because that may as well be what's falling on his armor. "If you can still fly, fly! If you can still teleport, teleport! Otherwise, secure yourselves! We may fall!" He cups claws to either side of his muzzle, and yells.

Usha has disconnected.

Monstra frowns and, tying her length of spidersilk rope to a nearby railing, then secures one to her waist. But she doesn't get off her horse, OR stop the singing. It's almost winter solstice, after all!

Ceres, busy with all the singing, suddenly straightens up, looking at the dusts, before making a sound, halfway between a whimper and a groan. The cussing is lost in her brain. "... I knew I should have gotten a ring... Hold on, those who must!" she calls out, after Svarshan, before grabbing on to a piece of structure with sheer... concern.

Roland looks to the cloud of dust and snarls out a curse, "Dust?!? I come back from dust...to run into this damned dust?!? Dammit!! 

"What's going on?" Ylva exclaims, quickly finding something to hold onto, railing and such. She clearly has no experience with this kind of thing, and is very uneasy about being so high up and under threat of... something.

Hekton looks up at the dust, curiously, then at Ceres when she shouts. He reaches out a pair of massive hands and clamps them onto the support structures of the engine itself. To those around him, he says, "Hold on to (). I will insure that () do not fall off."

Sirene studies that huge mechanical hand of Hekton's. Entralled and amazed. Then the ship rocks and it pulls her back. A growl given in Ellarian's direction as she moves back to Sorriso.

Ronak stares up at the sky, frowning as he studies the falling..whatever. He sheathes his wand, and glances at the shouting people. Since he can't fly or teleport. He moves towards the nearest sturdy object and grabs on.

Aleron blinks as he slips his pen into his belt and slings his briefcase into the slot on his backpack. "No clue... but better to brace for impact than not..." he says as he tries to grab a support pillar that he can lock his elbow against. "Ugh... I hate magic..."

"Rings won't work if it touches you! Try to get shelter and teleport!" yelled back. Svarshan looks up towards the sky, the terrible sky. "Karelin...if we break these crates, we could make shields for the mages. If we keep the dust off them..." he looks at the Korite.

Ellarian nods his head as he hears Hektons statement and then looks up at the sounds of grab onto something to hear Hekton mention to hold onto him. Ellarian grabs his spidersilk rope and lash's it to Hekton and secures himself, and then pass's whats left to Sirene and Siamun if they want it so that they too will be safe....supposedly.

Roland looks to Svarshan and sighs, "Distance matters as well...which is why I'm not trying to slow fall anyone out of this mess. The real trouble is going to be when it gets too close to the engines."

Monstra finally makes a decision, and bellows in her best do-what-I-say voice to the mass of soldiers and the like,"Okay, troops.... Everyone pick something heavy and hold on! This man, and the priest have a plan, and if everyone follows their lead, we'll be fine-" She gestures to Karelin and Svarshan, then goes on,"Now it may be nothing, so we need order! But do what you're told!"

Hekton hears this about the shields and the engines and hefts his massive shield above his head, holding it as much over the engine and the organics clustered around him as he can. Hopefully, it helps. It is almost as big as he is, after all.

SiAmun uses the rope, and secures it on the warforg, with one hand, holding the reins with the other..

Sirene mutters and grumbles under the raven feather mask. She shakes, the feathers ruffle, her hair ruffles. If she could caw, she would.

Svarshan looks at Monstra like she's crazy, and the Daeusite's lungs bellow in and out. In and--"Make shields!" he yells, deciding finally as he stares hard at the priestess. The sith's voice is pitched to carry, to yell above the hum and roar of the ship. "And cover the mages while you can! Maybe they can get a wind up and blow this thing away from us, but they won't have the chance if we don't help them! We're in this together, all of us, so get to it!"

Ellarian holds onto the rope as best he can and not understanding the reason Hekton's raises his shield he just tries to stay under it as much as he can, figguring the big guy knows what he's doing. He holds onto T'lor so that he wont fly away and possibly get injured by what evers happening and his mounts to far to get to. He just hopes that the warhorse is secure and safe thruout this.

Aleron yells, "So anyone got a huge fan or some crazy gnome gizmo???" He has no clue. Not His Field.

Aleron continues, "I'm sure we have no shortage of crazy gnomes, at least!"

Monstra bellows in counterpoint to Svarshan,"Those of you without shields, get behind any of the mounts!" She holds up her own shield, and gestures to some of the more schloarly looking types."

Shudder shudder. Choke. Shudder 

 That engine? The one that was just being talked about? It stops. Lots of engines stop, actually, throughout the airship fleet. Others turn sharply, but *everyone* is moving to land. There's no choice. People brace themselves, tie themselves off as the airships begin to do their best to glide to the ground. It is actually a testament to the skill and training of the crews of the airships that this doesn't immediately turn into one *massive* debacle and disaster. Most of the airships landing do so succesfully, but as more airships land, further ships are having a more difficult time finding a spot to do so that's within reach of their relative airspeeds. Naturally, a few smash into other airships on the ground. While this isn't a good thing, it's vastly preferrable to simply dropping out of the sky like a stone, which some certainly seemd to want to do 

 Indeed, glitter rains down on all the airships. Those who come in contact with it find their magical items, should they have any, immediately cease to function. The dust is fine and easily wiped away, but the airship engines and propellers powered by magicite are not so lucky. 

 The Irregulars Airships are spiralling to land, however. and those still on the ground are doing their best to clear out of the way so airships *don't fall on them* 

 There's definitely a few wreckages that are already being swarmed over. At least the ice and snow makes for conveneint aids in putting out any simmering fires.

Svarshan looks at Roland, "Some hope is better than none," he says gently, and those words /aren't/ pitched to carry. He rubs the bridge of his nose. "Daeus bless all of us..." the voice fades, and he looks up--barely in time to brace as the ship shudders in landing.

Sirene sees to the horses that were brought on board, doing what she can to keep them on their feet and calm. She herself holding onto the hitching lines as she does this.

Monstra has to work to keep Korson on his feet, for once having to fight with her mount. If he weren't war-bred, he would've likely paniced by now.

Ellarian kneels down, keeping his distance from the dust, and stuff. Tucking his arms under his pits to keep his newly recieved bracers safe from any smattering of the dust, even thought hekton- the warforged is shielding them fully.

Roland has reconnected.

Roland has partially disconnected.

Aleron says, "Much like the French and reality TV?"

Ceres just holds on and mutters under her breath in elvish. To the semi-discerning eye, she's praying. And occasionally stomping her feet, to make sure the deck is still there, up until the landing.

Chandrakanta finds herself squinting thru her goggles, at least without their magic they keep the dust out of her eyes. "Fucking cowards." Expousing her opinions on the tactics as the airship decends.

Sirene has disconnected.

Ellarian continues to look out from under the massive shield that hekton's erected "Dang I hope this stuff stops soon, and here I thought the snow was gonna be bad to fight in."

Aleron sighs and slings his shield over his back, drawing out a bow. "So... now that we're down... where's the ambush?" he asks with an expectant tone.

Monstra is suddenly glad to have her shield. So she tries whipping more of the men into a frenzy,"SEE THAT MEN? NOW THE ENEMY IS CALLING US GAY AGAIN! THEY MADE US SPARKLY!" Always trying whip up the troops. Then she notes to Aleron as an aside,"They just killed our air superiority... do they need one?"

SiAmun tries to utilize as much of the warforge's shield and body, as possible.. Still an exhale.."It would seem, they were prepared for such, the one good thing about weapons and armor, they still hurt and protect like hell, reagrdless if they sparkle or not"

"...effective, though," Svar admits wryly. Pauses. "Everyone alright? Call out if you're hurt!" and the paladin starts moving trough the crowds. Unfortunately, he sparkles, too. But /all/ paladins sparkle. It's totally a class feature 

"They're calling us gay? What's gay?" shouts Ylva, over the roar of the descent. She holds on tightly, nothing else to do right now that she can think of. She's definitely out of her element.

Teena has arrived.

Down, down, down. The airships settle rockily on the ground, yes, and people begin to disembark. There are wounded already being tended to by the clerics, who are having to make do without their own magical spells for the time being 

 The wind is beginning to pick up, whipping flakes of snow and nethercite about.

Roland tumbles with the crash, rolling to a stop against the hull where he stops long enough to rub his head before trying to shake and brush off the various flakes before worrying about standing just yet.

Ceres, once down on solid ground, lets her death grip go, and starts to disembark, pausing to help one of the folks who took the landing a touch bit rough, but still able to walk. "... is it bad to wish for a good rain?"

Karelin looks up, and swears. "Kor's sweaty balls!" He pulls his cloak up, and waits for the landing. On the ground, he lands, knees flexing extra as he gets down. Then he starts digging in the snow, trying to get beyond the surface, so he can start cleaning his armour with the good white stuff. Probably a hopeless task, but he tries anyways.

Monstra still feels her mount skid underneath her when they hit, but thankfully k eeps mounted. To Karelin, she notes,"I prefer invoking his big left toe. Tell me, do you like Kor's balls, then?"

Jareth has arrived.

"...snow," under his breath. Svar crouches down and picks up one of the soldiers. Puts his arms underneath the man, and--lift! The armor groans, and Svar does, too. Or grunt. It escapes him before he can think, and then it's off to the healers. He looks grim.

There's a small flag hanging from the end of a very long rifle carried by the Goblin Teena. The rifle-gob is looking amoung her new companions for other sharpshooters to join up with as she scans the battlefield for imediate threats. WIth the range of her rifle, all she needs is a good line of site to make shots.

Hekton releases his heavy grip on the engine, probably having left an indent in the pipe, and lowers his shield. Looking down, he says, "Is everyone alright? It seems () have landed. 

"Wah!" Ylva is petrified, clinging to the side of the airship even after it hits the ground. It takes a while for her to convince her finger to let go, and slowly she comes down to the others.

Ellarian grabs onto his robe, so that he's not tossed around when the ship lands He looks up and sees's his warhorse slide and collide with other mounts as the ship lands and forgoing the shield and its protections he moves to the animals and makes sure thatall of them are safe and not injured, using his skills with animals to re-calm them all down. Not caring that he's now covered in the anti-magic dust. "woah! boys, easy... easy.." he says to them as he calms the startled mounts down.

They Veyshanti has the same idea as Karelin, Chandra hops of the ship and onto the ground into the snowbank. Rolling in the white stuff, getting the layer of direwolf skin damp and covered with snow. Hoping the snow melt will wash away the nethercite dust that is covering her. She glances up at the Dran, shaking her head.

Karelin keeps cleaning his armour as well he can. He grunts to Monstra. "Get the dust off of you. It is best."

Monstra shrugs a little bit and begins shaking out her robes and currying off her horse,"I don't use any kind of magic, Honored of Kor, but that which my highborn heritage grants me, and little enough of that as it is."

Roland rolls over and finds a line to slide and scramble to the ground, apparently he's feeling too old to simply jump down. Like some of the others he sets about trying to get rid of the dust as well, stripping pack and cloak to shake them free.

With the airships mostly landing safely, Prince Verin storms his way off his own large flagship, angry. His Iron Golems appear to've understandably powered down due to the nethercite gumming up their works. His personal guard follows him. "They mined the skies. How could they do that with none of our eyes seeing?! 

 The prince is enraged. To say 'enraged', actually, is a bit of a mild understatement 

 "I do not know," says his seneschal, "not even The Hound heard anything of this plan. 

 "..we were wondering what they were doing with the nethercite. I assumed they were saving it for something, but this? They've grounded our fleet. We're going to have to push to Verisas on foot, now, and no doubt they're waiting for us with some new atrocity. 

 The weather continues to pick up, as if taking vengeance for its being thwarted with magic for so long. The wind begins to howl. Ice and snow flurries begin to cause conditions on the ground to deteriorate.

The impromptu landing only serves to reinforce Jareth's firm belief that travel should be limited to land, and perhaps by sea if absolutely necessary. Coiling one of the ships ropes about his fist, he braces himself for the impact and uses the line to swing away with the momentum of the toppled craft, sending himself off into the air after the others who had the idea to go into the snow for a softer surface.

"What is this sparkly stuff?" says Ylva, trying to get as much of it off herself as possible. She picks up clumps of snow and wipes it against herself to try and get the majority off. She's going to get snowed on anyway, so sees no loss in doing this.

Sophia frowns, "I'd wager that the blizzard is her doing as well." She looks rather angry, "Does NO ONE ever bother investigating things anymore? A little intelligence, perhaps?"

Hekton pulls himself back together and looks down, cataloguing his new sparkle. "Interesting." He looks up at the sky and narrows his eyes. "Snow. Should wash the dust off." He nods, and makes his way down the side of the ship to the ground, where he waits for everyone to catch up and the march to start again.

Teena growls as she wraps the end of her rifle in the flag to prevent snow from getting into the barrel, then more cloth around the breech and trigger. "Military and Intelligence is two words that hardly go together." she mutters, "And to be fair, it's hard to predict innovation." She looks towards Hekton, "Hey big guy, mind giving a shortie a lift?"

Roland says, "Artillery -- or balloon or well anything that gets high enough. The bigger question Prince is did they know to hit this route in particularly or all such routes similiarly trapped?""

Ceres looks at her sparkly clothes, then the snow, then to those rolling around in the snow, then to herself. "... is there not any better way to get rid of the dust, than rolling in the snow?" she asks Karelin, Monstra and the rest, as she makes her way over.

SiAmun guides his warhorse off the ship, and walks it over out of the way.. The warrior just seems to be looking about, and doesn't seem that concenred with the loss , as he doesn't have much, like the others here do..Does draw his cloak tighter about him..

Ellarian manages to get the horses calmed down again and pulls out his mount and leads the warhorse to the exit. Once both he and the warhorse are safely on the ground, he mounts the warhorse and looks around as he makes sure he's got his spear securely in hand. "Well isn't this fun..." he says with a grin. Then urges his mount forwards, as it breaks thru the snow, making a path for others to follow.

Her fur covering all covered in snow, Chandra moves to help aid the injured. Pulling a scarf from her pack to be torn into bandages. Oh, her mother is going to cry, that is good silk from Veyshan. As the wind whips up and begins to howl, she scowls. "Ceinara's bloody cunt.. as if nethercite isn't bad enough."

Ronak is marching with the rest of the troops, presumably. After the descent of the ships, he became somewhat distracted by a private prayer to the Strongest, saying whatever it is Warpriests say before a major battle. Coming out of his divine communion, he looks around, rechecking the status of the moving forces.

"...I think it's about to become moot," Svar's words to Ceres are numb as he stares at the oncoming blizzard, the growing and whipping wind. He snaps in a breath, and lowers the man he was carrying to the snow. The soldier's leg is blooded, with a wooden chunk sticking out of it. When he can, he grabs one of the blankets, and drops it about his shoulders.

Monstra offers a hand to Ceres,"Not really. But you can mount up and stay mostly clear of it with the rest of us. Hold on." She turns at this point, though and pats Kor's head,"Just like the southern snowplains, eh? Don't worry buddy. We'll get you some forage at least. Maybe more."

"Your majesty, we're going to need to deal with the weather. It's worsening quickly. 

 "I am aware. I have eyes. This is no coincidence. 

 "Magic can not function in nethercite. It can not be Kinnevack's doing." "Can't it? One can assume that altering the weather in one place could cause a ripple effect, no? Or so my tutors are telling me. They planned this, I am sure of that." There is scowling from the Prince and he says, "Gather the rest of the advisors. We must devise a new plan. Quickly, now! 

 The whipping wind and ice and snow is continuing to intensify, yes, and the storm is worsening. A fine layer of glittery snow begins to powder over the tops of the airships.

Ceres winces at Svar, then nods before taking Monstra's hand. "One of these days, I need to consider a proper mount. The last one I got from Fast Eddie left unfortunate... guests."

Monstra grins brightly and pulls Cere's up behind her with a grunt,"Korson can keep above the snow, for now. Now... let's go and find ourselves a nice place to shelter, get food, and possibly get laid. Let me know if you find any camp followers in need of coin with loose morals, okay?" Her plan to survive is to find prostitutes?

Jareth runs alongside the ship on the ground, still holding the rope as he shouts up at the Sith'Makar, "Svarshan! Lower the man down to me! We need to get out of this storm quickly! I found a place we can hole up in."

Svar looks over, surprised. The reptilian brows shoot up--"Got him! There are blankets up here--" he glances back towards the priests. To be sure. And back again. "I'll toss some of those down, too. Stand by!"

Ronak strides after the injured man being carried away. He calls out, "My spells are limitd to begin with. Let me take a look at him, and I'll leave the more divinely attuned Priests conserve their faith for the battle, when it comes."

-------------------- At a glance around The Front Lines --------------------

Jareth 1m 6'2" 197 Lb  

  Tall young man with a strong build, wearing a chain shirt.  

Teena 6m 2'3" 28lbs Lb  

  A little Gobber Girl with a BIG gun.  

Aleron 44m 5'8" 165 Lb  

  An unassuming man with a briefcase  

Svarshan 0s 6'4" 274 Lb Sith'makar Male  

  A darkly scaled layman of the Daeusite faith  

SiAmun 5m 7'2" 355 Lb  

  Dark-skinned, muscular, tattooed young highborn male.  

Roland 4m 6'3" 220 Lb Human Male  

  6'3" charismatic man with auburn curls and hazel eyes.  

Sophia 1m 5'8" 153 Lb  

  A young highborn woman in priestly attire.  

Karelin 1m 6'2" 232 Lb Human Male  

  Tattooed Korite warrior. Tall, dark and scarred.   

Ceres 3m 5'8" 130 Lb Grey Elf Female  

  Silver-haired elf, tall and extremely graceful  

Ellarian 37s 5'5" 145 Lb  

  A medium height bronzed skined elf with ruddy red hair and peircing grey  

Chandrakanta 31s 5'6" 140 Lb Human/Veyshanti Gurl  

  Dredlocked Veyshanti Averite with ink and blades.  

Ylva 60s 5'5" 125 Lb  

  Black hair, hazel eyes and a look of primal savagery.  

Monstra 58s 7'0" 160 Lb  

  A blonde giant of a woman in robes.  

Hekton 1m 7'6" 575 Lb  

  Giant Robot with sword, axe, and cardoor.   

Ronak 40s 7'0" 350 Lb Orc Male  

  Towering Orcish Priest of Maul'thog.   

Whirlpool 51s Lb   

==============================================================================

"I'm lowering him down to Jareth!" Svar responds to Ronak, signaling the orc towards the human's direction, if he'd like to help, and such help would be welcome. "He's got part of a plank in his leg, looks like!" and the sith' bends, begins to tie the rope about the soldier with the aid of one of the other men there. Some blankets are stacked on top, too--they'll all need those.

Hekton forges a path through the gathering snow, merely by walking forward. CLOMP, CLUMP. His feet are muffled by the snow, but still loud, and he'll blaze a path whereever there needs to be one. From the ships to the medics seems like a good plan for now.

Ronak nods briefly to Svar, and moves towards Jareth. He comes to a stop by the other man, and watches closely, ready to assist if anything should be going wrong that needs said assitance. He murmers to him, "The Gods are smiling on us so far, eh?"

Indeed, there are *many* natural barriers of all kinds in the area that will provide immediate shelter from the wind and snow. Those on the ground are going to need it because there's simply, even packing, not going to be enough room on the airships for everyone *and* the supplies *and* everything else 

 The Prince continues talking with his immediate generals and advisors. A map is rolled out. They're gesturing wildly and angrily. Needless to say, everyone is annoyed by this delay, but one can hardly blame them in this case. The temperature is dropping considerably, and the order is given to make with the fires as best as able. People begin to dig in, with shelter being shown and utilized by tose with a little bit of knowhow of what to do in what appears to be a blizzard.

Chandrakanta saves a scrap of the brightly coloured silk to tie over her face and protect it from the wind and ice. "When I meet Kinnevack, I am going to slice her from groin to throat for this.." She's clearly angry about being deposited in the snow. She wipes her goggles and begins to move with others to find some refuge from the weather.

Teena stays with the ships anyway. She's small, can find a place atop an engine, or in the gap of the engine, and her weapon won't do much good /out there/ so she decides to stay and protect the ariships.

Teena has left.

"That would be one way to get properly warm, however, have you considered the guests they have?" Ceres asks of Monstra, before pointing out a particular lump, "Perhaps that might offer some shelter?" she asks.

Ellarian follows the sounds of the warforged and as he spot him he rides up and says.."Hey I found a good place to weather out this storm... Should provide us with attiquate protection" (forgive poor spelling 

Ylva tromps around in the snow. She's clearly glad to have her feet on solid-ish ground.

Jareth stands with his arms raised, taking hold of the injured man as he comes within reach. Untying the rope from around his torso, he slings him over his shoulder as he looks at Ronak, "Things can only get better here on in from this point, right?" and then up to Svarshan, "Come on down. We can get this man out of the storm and then scavenge for firewood to keep warm until the order to resume the march comes in."

Monstra follows the pointer to the lump so-noted,"Hail! You want shelter? We want warmth! I'm sure we can come to an arrangement! After all, I'm very beautiful, and my companion isn't ugly!"

And the wounded's lowered from the ship, and to Jareth and Ronak. Svar lowers him hand over hand to the waiting arms below, and--eyes the jump himself before also grabbing one of the ropes, and sliding down into the snow from the airship. He lands--gracelessly. But he's a thing of scale and armor, and one recovering, no less. "Daeus preserve," he all but croaks from the coldening wind. Looks at the two, "We're all going to be scattered. Scattered and--" let go a breath, "--let's hope we all have loud voices," wry, warmly.

Ronak nods towards Jareth. "Aye. This is just a test of our strength. To prepare us for the battle ahead." He eyes the man on Jareth's shoulder, and adds, "I could give him a bit of healing ot keep him." He glances at Monstra, and one corner of his mouth twitchs. "Is she jesting?"

Svar looks over, "I've never been able to tell," he says to Ronak.

SiAmun ets off his mount, nd with some rope, begins pulling rather large pieces to help build a shelter of any kind.. only smoke can be seen exting from his helm, as he goes about the task, hell even he doesn't want to freeze out here

"... You are too kind, Monstra..." comes the rather dry response from Ceres.

Aleron seems to be keeping watch, being not of a larger build to be able to easily heft bodies. "We still shouldn't be caught unaware. They could be trying to use the blizzard for cover..."

Monstra answers just as dryly as they draw enar the lump,"Well, if we're going to survive and stay warm, we need to work towards our strengths. You're good a survival situations, and I'm hot. Since I doubt /you're/ planning on keeping me warm..." She merely shrugs.

"I am going to drain her blood into a tub and thaw my bones in the blood." Chandra shouts her threats towards Kinnevack into the wind, as if the words will carry and be heard. It seems she is blaming not only falling out of the sky but the storm on the ogre magus.

Karelin uses his fur as cover, then starts trying to find something to shlter under. Building is what he does, though. He's not talking. Tends not to. The bow is slung, and he loosens his sword in his scabbard, just in case 

Ylva tromps around some more. No complaining about the cold here! She's a real child of nature. "Who is cold? Do you want a hug? Hugs are good for keeping out the cold!" Tromp, tromp, tromp. She goes in circles, making trenches in the snow.

Roland doesn't bother with curses, there's too much teeth chattering as it is so he settles for falling in line to help prepare a shelter with whatever can be salvaged from the airship.

Svar grins over at the Liberator, and hefts the blankets from Jareth's load. "Lead on, and I'll follow. Kinnevack's got a bloody lot to answer for." Pause. Pause. "Ceres! Grab one of the wounded and come along! We have a healer!" and waves her over, before someone decides to take up Monstra's offer. Poor Ceres. Well. He's not entirely without chivalry.

"... Monstra, I am glad to know you. You are a welcome addition to any fight, and I enjoy your company. However, and I mean this in the most best, possible way, you are crazy. Also, there seems to be someone looking for companionship. Over there." And now Ceres is pointing to Ylva. And then she's slipping off the mount with a grin. "Duty calls!"

Ellarian moves to the shelters he's found and starts to improve on it, so that it will accomidate as many people as he can make it. "Hey Hekton, can you move some of that heavier stuff, over here so that we can block off more of the wind?" as he yells to the warforged.

"Shelter?" Chandra did hear that word, hopefully correctly. She helps one of the limping, hopefully in the direction of shelter. "She does, Darshan, she does. And I am going to make her pay."

Hekton nods to Ellarian and begins dragging things together for a shelter following Ellarian's directions as he does so. Despite the cold getting into his joints, he presses on, because if he doesn't get this done, they'll all freeze.

Jareth nods to Ronak, "Do whatever you can for him once we're settled in for the storm." and then grins to the others joining in, "Let's grab whatever we can on the way. If we're lucky, we can have ourselves a big old hunting lodge to all stew in as the snow comes down. 

Ylva makes her way toward the camp. "Hello," she says. The worry of the war and stuff seems to have slipped her mind. Without asking for permission or directions, she starts helping in setting up the shelter.

Monstra goes riding off towards Ylva, while making a speech at the top of her voice,"RALLY MEN, FOR THE ENEMY'S GAMBIT IS DIRECTED AT US! RALLY, MEN, FOR IT IS MOTHER NATURE THAT IS OUR FOE TONIGHT! RALLY MEN, BECAUSE THE PRINCE HIMSELF RIDES BEFORE US! RALLY MOST OF ALL, BECAUSE WE WILL MAKE KINNEVAK PAY IN BLOOD FOR EVERY INSULT! WE WILL MAKE THE BLUDGUNNI RUN HOWLING BACK TO THEIR HOMES! DIG IN! FOR WHEN THIS BLIZZARD PASSES, IT WILL NOT BE US BURIED UNDER THE SNOW! WHEN THE BLIZZARD PASSES, IT WILL BE THE ENEMY BURIED UNDER OUR ARROWS AND SWORDS, DROWNING AND FREEZING TO DEATH BENEATH THE PRESS OF BODIES AND THE FLOW OF THEIR OWN BLOOD!"

Ronak nods to Jareth, and then focuses on the man in question. He reaches over to give him a companionable pat on some part or another. "I'll have you fixed up in no time, warrior."

A fierce, if tired grin in response to the Liberator's comment. "/No one/ escapes Heaven's Justice. Even if they're dragged, hurmmm, kicking and screaming. And Kinnevack will be kicking. And screaming," and the words, tone, aren't nice. Aren't nice from the draconic paladin. They're punctuated with a tail-lash. And then Monstra Starts to Preach. Here's where the eyes go numb, and he falls in with Jareth, the leader-to of shelter.

SiAmun continues to pull large pieces over where Ellarian and Hekton is.. being that druid has done this before, he trusts in what he is doing.. and pauses.. "How goes this that your building Ellarian?"

You aren't alone in setting up shelters. Quickly, makeshift shelters are being made by soldiers the army over you all dig in for a night in a snowy, wintery of a blizzard. Needless to say, it's not a restful night for much of anyone, all things considered.

Ellarian looks over at SiAmun and shakes his head. "Poorly but hopefully with you here, we can get this sped up, Trying to improve the walls so that our mounts can be comfortable as well. Im packing snow to block off the wind and our friend the Warforged is moving the heavier stuff to heighten our walls. So any help you can provide will be greatly helpful....Not sure where everyone else is, otherwise I'd enlist there aid as well."

Sophia has disconnected.

SiAmun nodding.."I will drag more large pieces closer, using my mount, and when enough are here, then we will begin.." unties what he has, and then lays it down.. and goes to get more

Eventually, the winds die down though the snow continues to fall and morning, early morning, rolls around. People begin to dig their way out of the snow. Soldiers are forming up. All in all, it's been a rough night, and it shows. Cases of frostbite and a few deaths of exposure are noted and bodies placed out of the way for later burial. No one can do anything now with the ground frozen like that. The airships mechanichs are working busily on this matter, but cleaning out the nethercite dust is going to take time. Worse still, a scouting ship that was still active has indicated, according to rumor, that there are still more mines up in the clouds 

 This means the airship fleet is grounded until this can be dealt with. The Prince is apparently in a rage over the matter. Eventually, thugh, word reaches all of you that the march is to begin again, on foot, to the major town of Versis, a trading crossroads.

SiAmun has disconnected.

SiAmun has connected.

Doing his impression of a groundhog on February 2nd, Jareth shakes the snow off the hood of his cloak as he comes out of the shelter. Hopping from foot to foot to get the blood circulating, he blows into his hands before putting his gloves on, "Off to a good start already..."

"...you alright down there?" Svarshan had halfway emerged from the snow-covered shelter. Looks around. And, like another groundhog--vanishes back beneath the earth. He looked a little odd. Like someone who'd recently fashioned an entire set of plate mail out of...

...blankets.

Ceres has disconnected.

Sleep? It was probably not restful, the Veyshanti chattered and shivered through the night and the cold like she was afflicted. She shakes off the snow as she slowly gets mobile. You'd think she was the one with the lizard blood. "Someone better hire me to go to Veyshan so I can roll in the sands after this war.."

Ellarian nods as Si goes about to do his thing, while he digs into the snow and packs it where needed and with the help of Hekton he builds a roof as well. enclosing the shelter on three of the four sides. Then by laying out blankets he lays them down first for the mounts, to lay on and then the rest for SiAmun and himself and then what is needed for the warforged as well.

An entire set of... Covered in his blanket-armor, Svar looks almost content. He lowers partway a visor that's mostly muslin, Coyote's own smile behind the mischief, and he bends to help the wounded soldier from earlier from the shelter. "We've got a ways to march today!" shouted over his shoulder.

Monstra meanwhile climes out of a pile of what could be warriors of various race and gender, or camp-followers. It is less clear why she feels the need to take a stroll with her pipe in the nude, in the snow,"I love the smell of snow in the morning! Kinda smells like... well... like victory!" She then goes rumpusing back to her people-pile. It's warmer there.

SiAmun steps out from the shelter after what can only be considered mild rest at best.. Still the warrior stretches, and goes to check the warhorse.. A nod to himself, since it survived the night, thanks to Ellarian's help.."It seems you are helpful once again druid, glad to have you around, considering the curent company" this yelled to wards the makeshift shelter, and watches the nude woman..

Aleron goes home.

Aleron has left.

Ronak stirs from his morning prayers, and steps out of the cave. He absently checks his weapon as he does, glancing around the growing encampment. "Here's hoping we find more blood than snow today. I want some honest battle."

The march is tedious 

 And painful for many. Frozen, frostbitten feet are never fun to march on, after all, and the march is much slower than it has any right to be. You begin passing the farmsteads of individuals who look quite glad to see Myrrish soldiers, them and their families emerging from them to cheer and wave tattered Myrrish flags. You are being greeted as liberators, and the farmsteadders seem thrilled about it 

 Officers stop to chat with them to gather any intelligence they can come from them. Eventually, you crest a hill, though, that overlooks the side of the river that Versis sits on. It's a moderate sized township and a major point of trade on this route into Sendor. Smoke rises from many chimneys and it appears occupied, but there's no sign of any actual soldiers within it 

 It is, in fact, deathly silent.

Chandrakanta uses her sword to beat the ice and snow out of her fur before she wraps back into it. She joins the groups in march, trying to make sure she's close to the Prince. After all, it would be bad if his guards failed.

Karelin has reconnected.

Karelin has partially disconnected.

Monstra takes her own time to get ready, but once mounted, she finds a companion to ride with her, falchion drawn, shield pulled up,"You guys... You know... it seems like everytime I go somewhere in this crazy country, something horrible attacks or ambushes or otherwise turns me into a spider monky. I don't like being a spider-monkey and-" She's good at breaking silence. Which she continues doing.

Ellarian gets up and stretches too, and looks to SiAmun and nods, "Glad to be of help..." as he spots the naked woman and shakes his head "I wonder if that was is crazy or thinks she's immortal, who sleeps in the buff, in freezing weather?" as he turns and goes back to making sure both mounts are well, first feeding them and then bringing them snow so that they can get some water. AFter which he brisky uses the blankets to rub them down to increase there body heat.

Roland frowns as he looks over the silent town, "That...doesn't bode particularly well I think."

Hekton CLANK CLUNKs to the top of the hill, surveying it. He notes the silence and chalks it up in the 'this is a /bad/ sign' category. However, he waits for the rest of the groups to arrive before descending.

It really doesn't 

 "Where... are all the people?" says Prince Verin, "they couldn't possibly have sold them all into slavery. I heard reports from here not a week ago. Have we heard anything from our intelligence sources ssince then? 

 "No, your majesty. Only that the town was still under occupation and that a new commandant had arrived. 

 "Do we know anything about the commandant? 

 "No -- nothing. Only that he was a sorcerer of some kind. 

 "Lovely," replies the Prince, shaking his head. "Encircle the town. We'll send scouting parties into the outskirts as soon as possible."

Jareth joins in with the frowning as he reaches the hill's crest to look down onto the town, "Where are the town guards even?"

Svar stamps his feet in the snow. He pauses every so often to do so--the cold creeps and settles in. It chills the bone and wraps itself around throat and muzzle, choking speech as well as mind. The cloth armor, as hastily patched together as it is, helps some--but ultimately drags with the weight of chill water. And as they...stop. He stops, too. Pauses. "...Liberator, do you 'see' anything? 

"Maybe they're invisible!" comes the unhelpful suggestion shouted by Ylva. She's puttering about, a little impatient and her inexperience with organised warfare is showing. She's wandering around all over the place, poking her nose into everything.

Teena has arrived.

Karelin hunkers down, close to the edge of the ridge, squinting through his goggles. He shakes his head. "There's nothing down there at all. No birds. No small animals. Nothing." He keeps scanning, but he shakes his head, and finally gets up and starts hunting for the Prince to report.

Chandrakanta stares at the town, her skin getting that green around the gills colour as she studies it. A cold sweat beading on her brow. "Excuse me.." She walks away to throw up, the dried meat she ate on the march comes up. Splashing on the ground, "Nothing good is in that town.." She wipes her mouth on the back of her glove.

Svar's reptilian hiss follows the Liberator's statement. There wasn't a blade out then, but there is NOW. "...look again. Karelin...it reeks out here. It..." pause, pause, "...it covers the whole damn town."

Ellarian leaves the warhorse behind and tells T'lor to stay as well as he slinks off towards the town proper. He walks literally ontop of the snow without leaving a single track. He moves carefully to avoid detection moving from tree to tree and using what cover he find. Thankful he's currently coverd in winter garb so that he doesn't stand out as much.

Ronak settles near the two Paladins, glancing at them and frowning. "I take it you feel something unpleasent down in the town, then?" He looks back at it, and hefts his hammer. "Well. We were looking for a fight to begin with." 

Ylva moseys on up near Svarshan. "Hello!" She smiles at him, then looks out at the town. "What covers it? The snow? Yeah, it's been snowing a lot. What's so bad about all the snow? I guess lizards aren't so great about the cold. Is that what it is? I can go get your some furs."

"Send me in first.. there is no one quieter in these ranks." It seems throwing up helps Chandra ebb away the feeling from the evil that she's sensing.

Karelin nods towards Svarshan. "There's nothing there at all, Svarshan. I'd wager it smells like death magic." He goes back to trying to find the Prince.

Svarshan blinks, snapping out of--and stares at Ylva. Stares a...and then Karelin says something. And what he's saying is so terrible it takes a while to penetrate. And then he's scrambling down the slopes to be with whatever guard, or scout group goes in first, second. The paladin doesn't care, evidenced from the scramble through the snow.

As Chandra is asking permission to go in, she notices the movement out of the corner of her eye. "I'll be back.." She spots Ellarian and heads after him.

"...great. Sorcerers. That's just what we need. This does stink of magic," says Prince Verin to his generals. People are constantly coming and going to the generals, taking messages and having messages delivered. "This does not bode well, generals. Let us cling to the daylight while we have it and prepare scouting parties, as I said. 

 "Yes, your majesty. I must warn you, though, that we can ill afford to get bogged down here. Without the airships, we're going to have to live off the land as much as possible, and in in the winter, supplies will be scarce. And our reports indicate that as our enemy withdrws, they're doin their best to scorch the land."

Karelin steps forwards, to the edge of the circle of generals. "Prince," he grates, "there's nothing moing down there at all. Birds, animals, nothing. It is much like a deadzone created by a winged-orc agent of Kinnevack." A pause. "Did you hear which sorcerer was assigned to this area?"

"We don't have a name. But upon hearing your report, I'd be not be surprised if it started with a G," says Prince Verin to Karelin, grimacing. "Gather the Runites. I'll need to speak to them as well. Preperations must be made to cleanse this land." Probably with fire, judging the gleam in the Prince's eye.

Teena has disconnected.

Ellarian moves from tree to tree as he continues towards the town, blending in with his surroundings as best he can. He darts from one place to the next to limit his exposure, Dropping to his belly and then lowcrawling to another spot before making another dash to a well concealed spot.

Jareth looks to Svarshan and then to Karelin and back to the Sith'Makar, "Are you saying that everyone down there is dead?"

The Korite's words ring in what Svar has for ears. He lifts his muzzle to scent the air--lowers it again. ...lowers it, with a slow horror spreading over his features. "...The Prince means to cleanse it," he pauses. Pauses. He's quiet a while before he straightens. "Permission to form a group to check for survivors, your Highness."

Karelin nods. "I've seen something similar before. The magic is takes is... significant." He licks his teeth. "It might be something to take it out directly." He itches at his scars absently. "If the Runites can manage an insertion." He looks back to Jareth. "Maybe. If they're not, then they're either evacuated or underground and have eaten everything else living in that village."

Chandrakanta begins to stalk Ellarian. She reaches for something off her belt, considering her whip. She shakes her head. Instead she grabs a bolt for her crossbow and readies it. Letting a shot sail it strikes right on the ground in front of Ellarian. Her mark is fairly perfect. A warning shot to get him to halt his movement.

Hekton has disconnected.

Jareth has disconnected.

Gauvain has arrived.

Roland walks over to Karelin, "Given the amount of nethercite...I wouldn't be too surprised if most were shipped to the mines and the rest...Well.." he goes quiet and looks back to the town, because after all there's a reason necromancy is called 'death magic'

Myrana has arrived.

<Meet> Myrana joins Gauvain.

Ellarian is about to move agian when he spots the bolt land infront of him and he freezes. No... there's no way someone from town could have seen him so early, then as he looks at the angle he realizes its from behind him and he frowns. He scoots up retireves the bolt so that its not found later and turns to see who might have fired it.

 Well its not that hard to see who, concidering they are still holding the crossbow. Ellarian then retraces his steps, as he comes back stopping just short of the person with the crossbow. "Why did you do that?" he asks in low tones, "I could have been in and back in no time with some information."

Gauvain is still weak from hsi multiple shadow encounters however it doesn't stop him from being present in full armor with sword and shield. He watches from his vantage point as the airships move in and shakes his head which is still throbbing from the Detect Evil he did. He pinches the bridge of his nose and then takes a deep breath. "Fools." He mutters. "Light blasted flaming fools.

SiAmun remains on his mount, watching.. for the moment.. the words being spoken, by various folks.. has him draw his weapon..'Undead'.. Known for his hatred of vampires in particular.., seems they will be doing some house cleaning soon

Chandrakanta holds out her hand to get the bolt back when the man approaches her. "Because, I go first and I doubt you have the sort of protection you need down there. There is nothing -good- down there." The words come especially hard when touched with the Veyshanti's accent. "We will put together a group so you have someone to back you when it is time to go." She points towards the camp, "Don't argue or I will bring you to the Prince.."

Ellarian twirls the bolt in his hand and then hands it back tip first, " Its a bit tip heavy..." as he slips past Chandrakanta. Still without leaving a track, Argue with her ... not likely. He returns to his spot to a very aggrivated T'lor, and so Ellarian spends the next few minutes calming the hawk down and appologizing to him.

"Have no fear. I'm not stupid. We're going to look for survivors." Prince Verin nods towards Karelin. "We're going to send multiple scouting groups in. It's a large town. We'll arrange them quickly. For now, though, no one is to leave the camp, and sentries doubled. I don't want anything unwelcome sneaking its way into the camp. 

 "Yes, sir," comes the voices of the generals, who are beginning to pass the necessary orders down the line. Fortifications are going to be quickly erected, yes, and the airship that are functional are able to deliver some supplies, though its a gamble. 

 "We're going to be risking quite a bit here with our supply situation. We can't afford to wait a lot of time or else we'll be putting ourselvves at risk. And we must learn where they're producing these mines at -- if they still are, or else we'll *never* get our airship fleet working again. We can't afford that. Tonight, we will need our holy men to offer blessings on the men. They're likely to be nervous. The farmsteadders said people stopped coming out of the town about four or five days ago. That's all they knew. If there's any survivors, they're being awfully quiet. 

 The Prince grimaces, shaking his head. "MEN! LISTEN TO ME!" 

 He steps forward out into the crowd, "Tonight, we will need to keep the Gods close to us and pray for the souls of those in Versis! If you have family there, know that we will do everything in our power to save them -- but that if it c omes to it, we will be prepared to cleanse this area in the righteous, purfying flames. We can allow no monstrosity past us to bedevil the people of Sendor as they return to their homes in due time. Soon, we will march on Vinas Solamnus and soon Kinnevack's head will be held up for all of you to see! Keep your fury in your hearts, let it burn brightly and strike our enemies!"

Chandrakanta keeps a careful eye on the elf, making certain he returns. She moves back to in time to hear the rousing words of the Prince. Playing idly with the bolt, her eyes rolling as she balances it on her fingertip.

Raising an eyebrow at the mention of Undead, Gauvain looks around. "More bloody Undead. Fantastic." He states in that even voice of his. He looks around to get his his bearings and move up to join Chandra, Ellarian and the others. He folds his arms as the Prince speaks and his eyes watch the man. Impassive he keeps his comments to himself. However he does allow himself to scan for that wonderful seneschal of the Prince's. Nothing like a crazed zealot to ruin the Knight's day.

Karelin has disconnected.

Svar looks towards the Prince and nods, in the human style. He has no idea the scouting party of Chandrakanta and Ellarian. But he does what Daeusites do--get organized. Form armies. Form ranks. In this case, form scouting parties. And if there are no survivors, well. Purge with flame, away!

Roland has disconnected.

Monstra has disconnected.

Satchel hanging at her side and a froth of scarf-fringe at her throat, Myrana looks up as Gauvain approaches. The young half-elf had been seeing to the wounded along the march. She looks tired, but alert, with a satchel full of bandages and needles.

Ellarian sighs and after dealing with the Hawk, he proceeds to examine his bow and his supply of arrows, before making sure his spear is in good shape. He does glance at Chandrakanta from time to time, and cant help but chuckle. 'Good eyes on that one, got to be careful' he mutters to the Hawk.

"...the Prince will be organizing scouting parties," Svar says, lowering his voice. He looks at the other Daeusite, and to Myrana, pauses. "It smells like Death down there. The...whole place," he pauses, pauses. And, seems on the verge of something--instead, doesn't say it.

Gauvain looks down at his wife and folds his arms over hsi chest. "You should be at the city. Working on that Inn you want love." He says softly toward Myrana. He gestures around him. "This sin't the place for you. I'm not saying you're weak, or anything, but this isn't some grand adventure. It's war. It's ugly. I don't want you to see the things I've seen."

 At least, that's what he says in his head.

 In truth he smiles as he approaches and nods to Svar. "He's right Shade of my Heart. Are you sure this is where you want to be?" He looks over to Svar and gestures with one hand. "How much crap did he spew this time, how much of it was relevant, and how's the organization going?"

Monstra has connected.

"Everything he said is true," firmly. One Does Not Question the Prince, apparently, the tone says. The body language says. And Svar pauses a moment after that, and reaches into his pack. "We have alot of trouble out there, both of you. We don't know what happened--they'll send in scouts to find out, though." Pause, "And then they'll burn it down. The whole place."

"I can't smell it," Myrana murmurs to Svarshan. She doesn't sound jealous though, and wraps her scarf more warmly about her shoulders. "Yes," she says to Gauvain, eyes flicking between the two Daeusites. "If any Shades touch you, I'll burn them to dust." She says it calmly, and in a matter-of-fact sort of way. "The Inn is a secondary investment."

"And if you die, Svarshan," Myra adds, pointing a gloved finger at him. "I'll never finish that book. So it is only practical."

Chandrakanta tucks away the crossbow bolt, convinced its balanced enough. Zoning back in on the conversation, "It reaks of foulness down there.."

Ellarian steps back and tests the pull on his bow and finding some oddities he pulls out some oils and applies them to the string and then the wood itself to keep it protected from the bitter cold. He then again tests the pull and nods his head happy with the results.

Svar grins in the human-style, and plucks out an old potion. Dust-covered, the old glass clinks as he lifts it and hands it to Myrana. "I intend to finish it. Here. There's no going back after this, but this might help you. It hides you from the undead's scent," that's sight, senses, in sith'makar-land, "If the Garnaks where here, we'll dealing with those. --and she knows about them," he tilts his head to indicate Chandra. "Alot more than I do."

Gauvain grunts and shakes his head. "Waste of bloody time." He says looking the place over. "I say give the scouts a day. Two at tops. To locate survivors and supply caches. Then torch the whole damned place. Be done with it and let us advance." His tone however says Question the Prince. His body language speaks of something else. He looks to Myrana as she mentions frying the Shades and he smiles at her. "Oh? And what's your primary investment?" he knows the answer, but it's fun to tease. He looks to Svar and frowns lightly. "Seriosuly Dar. Have you tried to detect evil?" He holds up a hand. "Don't. It knocked me on my ass for the better part of an hour. I know I'm not as experienced as you in the whole Knight of Deaus thing, but I'm not a push over either. Something isn't right and I'd rather we jsut burn the bloody place down to be rid of it."

"You may want to watch for the over enthusiastic," Chandra lets the soldiers know, "I stopped one from trying to get in too early already." She bristles at the mention of Garnaks, "I have a feeling this isn't the Garnaks, they like more show.. I think this.. is that thing, with the red wings. I've seen this deadness before and it was there."

Monstra is meanwhile all about politics. So, she rides forward on Korson, approaching the Prince,"It's what happens without a hsining example to lead people. In Dran, when we would raid an enemy village, we would absorb those capable of working into our clan to strengthen our numbers. Menial jobs at first, then something more substantial to feed and test loyalty. As they proved themselves more valuable, we'd give them bigger jobs and bigger shares in the spoils. I can't help but wonder if something similar happens here. Still, one can't live forever. It's why some Alexandrians and people like my clan look to leaders like you."

Ellarian goes OOC.

Ellarian has left.

Ellarian has arrived.

"And you are?" says Prince Verin. He does not immediately comment on Monstra's statement, but rather, he seems more interested in knowing who she is.

"Oh! Thank you," Myrana says to Svar and tucks the little bottle into a pocket of her thick, trim coat. "I'll put it on if we're sent in." WHEN we're sent in, really. She bows her head politely to Chandrakanta, then looks up at Gauvain. A smile tugs at her lips and the short half-elf slips an arm around the paladin's armored one. "Its a secret," she replies, relaxing a bit. A small victory. Staying behind to worry and heal the wounded, while an aspect of Althean life (it would seem), does not appeal to her.

Monstra bows her head respectfully to Verin,"Monstra d'Laida, sub-chieftess and desert-princess of the Tardot Clan of Dran, daughter of Chief Zarillikos the Giant-Slayer, my lord." She DOES like to pile on her titles, and they're sometimes different between introductions.

Ellarian moves to find a clearing and starts to stretch and exercise, even drawing out his warhorse and find something for him to do as well, so that the warhorses muscles dont stiffen up in the cold weather.

Gauvain seams about to protest her being here but can't really bring himself to speak the protests. Finally he sighs and runs his free hand through his hair. "Alright. I won't argue with you being here. But if that Seneschal shows up to do his crazy talk to me I don't want you giving him TOO much lip." He smiles and looks to Svar and sighs, :You encourage her. You know that right?"

SiAmun eases off his mount, and glances towards Ellarian.."For now it seems, we merely wait, might as well relax in the warmth of the shelter until they decide on who goes where.. the life of being a mercenary heh" guides his warhouse back towards the shelter, the blade resting on his shoulder

"Has anyone asked for a map of the town yet? If Moonflower were here I wouldn't even need to ask." Chandra kneels on the ground and starts digging into the snow until she reaches earth, "anyone care to help build a small fire?" She really isn't going to do another night in the cold without something of a fire.

"That's surprisingly what the Prince said," Svarshan says wryly. "But he wants us searching for survivors. If there's any chance of that, we owe them that, Daeusite," and he puts emphasis on the title, as though, yes, Gauvain should know better. /Should/ know better. Svar looks at his Brother hard before blinking, and then Chandra draws him out of it. Draws him..."Red?"

"How much is too much?" Myrana asks, doing her very best not to look like the cat who has got the bird.

"That evil Yrch-thing with the wings.." Chandra continues to dig uncovering more earth and making a pile of snow, anwering the question while describing a mogareg.

Gauvain grunts and looks over at the town again. "He's just saying that to look good. He doesn't use tactics. He jsut THROWS people into battle and hopes for the best." He gestures toward the town with hsi free hand. "This is all political to him." He shrugs and looks to Myrana. "Don't scar him TOO much." He says with a wink. "I doubt he'll be here anyway. He's probolly at the local fortress being all paper pushy like." He grins at Myrana. Then looks back to Svar and Chandra. "Red Wings? Bloody Hell."

Ellarian continues to keep his warhorse moving for a good long while, just enough to make sure its muscles stay loose. Then he returns the warhorse back to the shelter he and his friends built. Once the Horse is bedded again he look at Chandra as she continues to dig in the earth for the fire pit and decides to go find usuable wood in the meantime. He collects dead branches and parts from fallen trees and brings them to where Chandra is at and proceeds to make kindlin from some of the smaller twigs and limbs and once that is done he sets it near by and proceeds to break up the larger peices into smaller chunks for later.

"Ah. A pleasure," says the Prince to Monstra, firmly, "We always look for wisdom in the words of the Dranei. While their advice might not always suit the temperments of those outsied of Dran, there is always wisdom to be learned and applied elsewhere. One would be foolish to ignore it." A smile is given towards her he nods his head, glancing back to his generals. His golems, reactivated, remain nearby. Ready to squish.

Monstra she inclines her head once more. She may be a noble of a desert clan... but she knows how to bow and scrape and look for favor like any noble. "There are those in Alexandria who remember how well the Myrrish benefit them. Do send someone to call upon me should you ever wish the good will of the Tardot Clan, Prince. With your leave, Prince?" She moves as if to turn her horse away.

Myrana nods, chuckling 

Ylva happens to be puttering about nearby. Since she hears people are introducing themselves to each other, her curiosity draws her nearer to the Prince and retinue. "Hello Monstra!" says the savage as she passes by. "Hello!" she says to the important sorts.

"He went to Gettys with me and bled for it," firmly, flatly. Don't Question the Prince, shows in the paladin's form. And the words...curiously flat. "Gauvain, Brother, you know better than that. And he's bloody well just over there," he lifts his chin towards where the Prince is standing. With his arms. His golems. His signature of Authority. "You're a damned Daeusite, for crying out loud. Start. Acting. Like. One!" barked! and the sith'makar jams the blade he'd had out from earlier, jams it home and scowls at his Brother at the rebuke. Pauses, pauses...

Breathe.

"Just watch over her," the Althean, he means. They're precious, to a Daeusite. Precious. And he heads off into camp.

Ronak has disconnected.

"The Prince has earned some respect, he did good work at Gettys" Chandra echoes as she dig. Coming from the Averite, its something. She glances up at the Sith, "Come help me with the fire, Darshan, we both could use the flames."

Myrana is silent a moment. Watching Svarshan go. Then, a handful of heartbeats later, she remembers to exhale and looks up at Gauvain through her bangs. "Oh dear," she breathes, guilt written on her face.

"...build it high," Svar echoes in warm response. He looks relieved for it. The fire, the heat. The warmth, this creature from Am'shere. A fire--gods, it would be welcome, says the silent language. He drops down by the start of it gratefully, stress on his features that he rubs away with a passing of hand over chin. No matter the good reasons for it--confronting a brother-in-faith, a sister, is never something he wakes up in the morning and says, "this is what I want to do."

The hole dug, Chandra looks up to notice the wood pile that the elf has prepared. "Much obliged." She begins to lay it down into the pit, haphazardly at best, a fire builder the Veyshanti is not.

Ellarian sighs as he spots chandra trying to build the fire, "Never mind M'lady.. I'll get it going .." as he slips in and pulls out the haphazzard mess and fix's the wood, aligning it properly and giveing it plenty of room to breath, and once the kindling is set, he lays the larger peices into a piramid fashion, starting with the smaller peices and then overlaying them with the larger ones. "Anyone got a light?" as he looks up after getting the wood set like it should be.

It seems thankful that the Prince is busy, well... discussing orders and making things happen. In the army. Maps are laid out. There is no him hearing gauvain's comments. Yet 

 This can only be a positive thing for Gauvain.

Gauvain regognizes both challange and a dressing down when given. He's a soldier. He's had plenty of both. He doesn't back down when his friend snaps at him he stands there and looks right into the face of his brother in the order. "I am acting like one Damnit." He states looking right at Darshan. "Don't pretend to be punch drunk on /that/ success. If you think Gettys was a victory I'd hate to see what the hell you call a Defeat." He watches his friend for a moment and finds that his sword hand is idly tapping Vendetta's hilt. He then watches Svarshan go and he growls lowly and looks to Myrana for a moment. Like Svar he hates being in the position of confrontation with a friend. A brother. But he's too stubborn to back down, and set in his beliefs.

 He takes a breathe himself and looks to Myrana, trying to hide the slight wound that was left there. He's seen too much. Both lately and in the past. He knows he's going to see more. It's clearly starting to affect him. He sits on a log next to the working Althean. His wife and sighs. I'm terrible at this Knight thing." He says softly to her. He looks at his sword hand and opens it and closes it 

Ylva frowns. Nobody noticed her saying hello. Since the Prince and company seem too busy right now, she wanders off and tries to find other ways to stave off boredom.

SiAmun goes OOC.

SiAmun has left.

SiAmun has arrived.

SiAmun leaves the front lines for the ruins of Fort Getty's.

SiAmun has left.

Chandrakanta gets her hands out of the fire pit, letting the elf build it. She snorts at being called M'lady, but holds off on correcting him. After all, she wants a fire that will burn. "Sounds like he needs to deal with his demons, Darshan.." She uses the common version of the draconic name. "It might be ugly as he does."

SiAmun arrives from the ruins of Fort Getty's.

SiAmun has arrived.

SiAmun has disconnected.

"It may be," Svar pauses. He cracks a stick, feeds it into the growing stack of them. "But." Pause, pause. "...any topic, Chandra. Any other topic." And he pauses there again. "I told you about the cabin?" Another stick joins the first, and then...another. Slowly, methodically broken.

Ellarian looks up after getting the wood stackedn, and seeing as nobody seems to have anything availible to light the fire. He sighs and mutters a prayer to Dana as his hand catches fire. He smiles at the effects and then directs the flame into the cold wet wood and after a few discharges he manages to get it to catch. He holds on to the remaining uses for a bit to make sure the fire doesnt go out. "Might be wise to have those who can, go and gather more wood, preferably from already fallen and or dead trees. No sense in harming the living ones when we dont have too." he says politely.

Myrana settles her hand on Gauvain's shoulder as he sits down on the snowy log. Her coal-black braid brushes his pauldron as she leans over to put a kiss on his brow. "You are a good soldier," she says, gently. "But I think you misunderstand, Gau," Myra whispers, lips brushing his ear. "Take your Brother's words to heart... but not as you heard them first. He holds your life dear, as I do." Myrana glances past Gauvain towards where the Prince speaks some distance away. "When a snake is in the grass, do not climb down from a safe stone to speak."

"No, you haven't, what cabin?" Chandra holds her hand out to the fire, warming the cold out of her fingertips as she stretches them out, "Bathing in Kinnevack's blood would be more satisfactory, but this will do for now." Nope, she didn't forget the promises she made while delerious and angry from the cold.

Gauvain snorts a bit in silent laughter for a moment. Taking the words whispered in his ear to heart he shakes his head a bit. "Right. In other words do as I'm told not what I think is right." He runs a hand through his hair. "I think I'm going to go find a bed." He stnads and runs hand through Myrana's hair as he does so. "I think I know what I need to do." He bends down and kisses the top of his wifes head. "Thanks." He says softly.

Myrana catches at Gauvain's arm. "Wait, what-- what are you doing?" She half-runs to keep up with him if need be, easily outpaced otherwise by longer legs.

"It's in the midst of the woods," Svarshan looks briefly towards the druid. "Far from the city. I'm planning on meeting with Gilead's Children when we get back." When. It's a when, not an if, and the mention of bathing in Kinnevack's blood...well. He's a sith'makar.

He /almost/ grins. And, because he's a paladin, remembers not to.

Ellarian upon seeing the fires going well and that more woods been gatherd he moves away and see's to helping others prepare similar fire pits where needed, especially aound those who have no means of doing so on there own.

Gauvain grins to Myrana in that roguish way he used to grin before he was a Knight. The one that always got him in trouble. "I'm going to be a very good Soldier." He states very simply. The sword hand taps the hilt of his blade as he walks. "Don't worry. When have I ever done anything terribly foolish?" He's still grinning that smile. "Besides. I'm sure Dar would appreciate this."

"People will realize there is a fire and bring wood, do not worry, thank you for starting this." The Averite balances her gruff side with being gracious now and then. "Its good to settle down, Darshan." Chandra continues the conversation with the Sith, "someday I'll be ready to do the same, somewhere warm by the sea.."

Ellarian has disconnected.

Myrana grumbles, swearing a low blue streak under her breath and keeps pace with Gauvain. Unfortunately, that smile is quite effective, as Gauvain well knows, and so she swallows whatever other questions she has, and just concentrates on keeping abreast of Gauvain's stride.

Svarshan goes OOC.

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================================= Sendor War =================================

Message: 18/38 Posted Author

The War Resumes! Mon Dec 07 Whirlpool

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..in spite of useless airships, blizzards, and bad weather and a mysterious township 

 Fighting has resumed along the frontlines, though the central point of push has come to rest at the town of Versis inside the Sendorian border, alonside the river. The town is mysteriously lifeless and, worse yet, there's no sign of *any* living thing within its borders. Scouting missions are being organized and sent into the township to search for survivors. The present rumor is that this is the death magics of Kinnevack's allies, the Garnaks, who've wiped out the townships populace with its magic, but none know yet for sure 

 In the meantime, much of the airship fleet has been downed with new technology of Kinnevack's forces, neutralizing one of the Myrrish's greater strengths and forcing them to rely on Dragonieri wyverns and their own legendary griffons. The nethercite mines gummed up the engine works horribly, but the forced landing of the fleet was surprisingly controlled through the skill of the Myrrish pilots and their crews. Still, though, it's going to be tough going further into Sendor without the airships until the source of the nethercite mines can be found and eliminated. 

 All in all, not a promising start to Prince Verin's winter offensive, but it also appears to be that Kinnevack is playing for time at this point. Surely, she must know that the war is not going in her favor, right? Right?

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