((OOC: Going back just a little...))

Render him senseless? From the depths of his cowl, Jal blinked in disbelief as Arien recommended sparing the Green. The urchin-mage wasn’t opposed to mercy where it was warranted but this was an Imperial Green! In his experience (limited as it was) Jal knew that any quarter given to one of their numbers, any hint of mercy, would undoubtedly be manipulated and exploited and turned back on the granter. Only dead is senseless enough for these.
Even more surprising was how long the debate over the Green’s fate had gone on… Jal found himself becoming quite anxious, his gaze flicking between his companions, the kneeling Green, and the staircase ahead… Maybe it had been Wynter trying to guide him, voicelessly and without so much as a phantom whiff of her hair, maybe it was the sense of sheer magical power that was promised at the top of the tower… something called him upwards. “Kill him and be done with it,” the odd little mage had wanted to say, “The longer we linger here, the more difficult the path ahead will become, I fear.”

Wanted to say. Only the words ‘kill him’ (and perhaps not even that much) escaped his lips before the Green made his move. In the blink of an eye, just before Maximus’ blade would have swung in to claim his head, the Imperial had sprung upwards and, in what could have proven a fatal blow, smashed the former gladiator’s nose to a pulp. Had it not been for Dapple’s intervention, Maximus would certainly have been killed by the blow rather than injured as he was. Jal had managed to skitter back a few steps as this occurred and blinked in mild confusion as the events unfolded. Before his mind could register what had just transpired, though, an even more befuddling onslaught commenced…

In what seemed like less time than it took to blink an eye, the entire place surged with mana. The smell of ozone tanged the air as a lightning bolt struck in their midst; the Green who had sought to free himself by feigning defeat found himself shuffled free of the mortal coil from that strike, and Dapple, too, was lifted from his feet and tossed like a mealsack across the room. Sir Thedell, it seemed, had burst into flames at that precise moment, as well - And, yet, somehow, there he stands, as if the fire had never been! the spellbinder marveled as the column of flame vanished, How can that be, my love? Even the Master, with all of his power, burned when called to…
“Adrian? Is that you?”

Still dumbfounded by the speed at which things had just unfolded, Jal turned instinctively to face the female voice that had just addressed his counterpart and saw the two women appear in the doorway; both wearing the red uniform of the Imperial magic corp. The white-haired woman wore holy symbol of some kind and had an intense look of anger etched into her features. The black haired sorceress, though – and this was the one who had called to Adrien - exhibited a bewildered, vacant expression.

“I said kill the mages,” the white haired witch shrieked, “Now!” the white one cries out. Then both women disappeared again.

“Wind…” Jal faintly heard Valentine mutter before the two Reds vanished and, a scant heartbeat later, the hells opened up again. Even before Arien called for it, Jal was scouring his memory for any spells that might help to reveal the invisibility shrouded Reds, but, between the shouting of the others, the wonderment at Adrian being called by name by one of the sorceresses, and the sudden, frenetic bustle of activity brought on by their arrival, he was finding the cob-webs entirely too thick to retrieve the proper incantations… and, also – even more distracting than the rest - he was sure he had just heard Wynter’s voice whisper in his ear… felt the phantasmal girl drawing nearer, returning to him at last from wherever it was she had been. He couldn’t help but allow his ice-hued eyes to scan the place in hopes of catching a glimpse of her.

When he turned his head, Jal had almost expected to see her – the honey-wheat waves of her hair spiraling behind her as she danced across the remembered grain fields of her home, making her way happily towards the young, misguided sorcerer’s apprentice who, for some reason, made excuses to see her every time his horrid master sent him to the small village – instead, he saw Arien forcibly lifted from his feet and launched with phenomenal power across the room and through the wall. An instant later, the ragged hole widened by the knight’s violent departure creaked under the strain of trying to support the structure above; dust and rubble shook loose and, then, the entire tower seemed to shudder before beginning its collapse.

‘Your redemption is at hand, beloved,’ he thought he heard Wynter coo into his ear as the staircase ripped free of the tower and crashed down before him. His head cocked to one side as if straining to hear her voice over the cacophony of the crumbling tower and the shouts of his retreating companions.

“Wynter,” he smiled faintly, certain that he was hearing her voice, “It is now, then? You and I… we’ll be together?”

‘Soon, very soon… a dance in the grass and perhaps a kiss, my Spellbinder… but first, see to your friends… see to the roof… See! The Roof!!!
His eyes lifted skyward and he almost smiled as he saw the chunks of stone, plaster, and timber raining down towards him. The spell for this would be simple enough and practical enough to provide the rest an exit from the place and, when it was done, Wynter would be waiting to welcome him. Jal’s slender fingers danced in the air as his lips formed the incantation, the mana rippled through him and as he thrust his staff above his head, he felt the featherfall spell breathe forward and take hold of the toppling debris. The casting of the spell, though, had chased Wynter’s voice from his ears and, without her calming demeanor –her focused guidance – Jal became suddenly aware of how taxed his mana reserves had become and felt that he wouldn’t be able to hold the spell for very long.

The sooner the better, he thought until he realized that several of his companions had yet to evacuate the ruined tower. Upon catching glimpses of Adrian and Maximus in the periphery of his vision, however, Jal forced himself to pour even more concentration into his maintenance of the spell… “Run,” he shouted to those he had come to consider friends, urgency and the strain of maintaining his concentration melding in his voice, “Get out while you can! I can’t hold this for long!”

He heard Wynter again, just then, and, it seemed, felt her standing there with him, though he still couldn’t see her. Her voice, too, though it seemed to be shouting, wouldn’t resolve itself into anything he could make out; the deafening rumble of the falling tower, the shouts of people from within and without, and the intense concentration he was forced to bear out had drown out all else. This is a good death, he told himself, not looking forward to the crushing weight that would signal the end of his time on this plane, but knowing that he would move on to the next having atoned for the evils that he had done both as a tool of his Master and, in some sad cases, of his own volition. Soon, Wynter, my love, he managed to think over his efforts, very soo…
“OOOoooff!” He suddenly found himself lifted from the ground and slung unceremoniously over Maximus’ shoulder. Wynter’s voice and his grasp on the featherfall spell both wavered…

“Concentrate on the spell,” he heard the gladiator say as his muscular legs pistoned them towards an escape, “I will get us out of here!”

“No! She was right there,” Jal screamed after failing to snatch hold of the interrupted spell, again, “Right there! I was with her!” His outstretched hands gave the appearance that the urchin-mage still sought purchase on the threads of his collapsing spell but, had anyone else seen through his eyes, he was reaching for were he knew Wynter must be. “Damn it, she was there! I heard her! I felt her! Wyyyynterrrrrrr!!!”

The Spellbinder’s misery was complete even before Maximus’s rescue sent them sprawling just clear of the crumbling tower and, even before whatever magic it was that had reduced the toppling ruin to dust, his eyes were stinging and wet with tears. He was almost grateful for the blinding effect of the exploding tower so that his free expression of sorrow might be masked or at least explained away by the dust and dirt that collected in his eyes. “No,” he wept almost breathlessly as he stuggled free of Maximus and tried to gain his footing. His eyes flicked to the gladiator, first, and he knew he should offer some thanks to the big man for saving his life but all the odd little mage could manage was: “You should have left me…”

Coughing a little as he wiped his eyes with the tattered hem of his cloak, Jal scowled and surveyed the scene around him now. The remains of the tower separated himself and the rest of the party from Arien. The noble knight was currently engaged in combat with some sort of abomination of a man who had one distorted, green-scaled arm and, by the looks of things, Arien could use some assistance and, in the swirling cloud of dust and debris that roiled in the space where the tower once stood, hovered what could only have been Arien’s twin sister… at least, she looked as if she must have been the knight’s twin, the uniform of an Imperial Red, though, cast some doubt upon that.

“To Arien!” Char’s voice called.

Jal tore his gaze from the levitating Red (and the incredible effect of the dust formed dragon that shrouded her) for a moment and caught sight of the ranger charging off towards the northside of the tower to aid the knight. His eyes, for an instant, ticked back to where Alloryn floated above, then returned to Char and the rest… it would take the fighters precious time to navigate the ruble and debris that blockaded them from the knight’s battle and, with a Red mage taking the highground, so to speak, it was precious time of just such a length that could ensure all of their deaths. “Aye,” Jal sighed almost exhaustedly, “steel to the steel and mana to the mana. So it goes…”

((OOC: Okay, I suppose that’s enough for now. If possible, Jal will attempt to cast a jump spell on one or two of the fighter-types, hopefully giving them a ‘short-cut’ when it comes to getting past the rubble and, following that (and at the risk of possibly subjecting himself to Wizard’s Twilight) will cast Fly on himself and make for Alloryn – not 100% sure what he might do when/if he manages to get there but it seems like the thing to do…*shrug*))

Having successfully grabbed Jal, the little mage screaming and kicking as if he did not want to be saved Maximus paid him no heed.

“No! She was right there, Right there! I was with her! “Damn it, she was there! I heard her! I felt her! Wyyyynterrrrrrr!!!”

The ex-gladiator barely made it to the east side window, with the tower falling around him he did not stop to think of what lay on the other side, but barreled forward and lunged through it.
The next moment Maximus with Jal yet under his arm found himself on the ground outside the tower as it disintegrated into a massive cloud of dust.

As the dust settled and once again the night sky revealed Maximus eyes were drawn to a green glowing women floating in the air above him and Jal.
“This is not good” he spoke aloud finally placing the little mage on the ground. Then the voice of Char rang from out of the night.

“To Arien!”

“Aye,” Jal sighed almost exhaustedly beside him, “steel to the steel and mana to the mana. So it goes..”

“What Jal, what did you say, where is Arien, I cannot see him”

Lacking Kilgim’s night vision, dust still in his eyes, and a little disorientated from the fall Maximus was unsure of the Knights location.

“Jal, where is Arien, use your magic my friend take us to his aid...."

Dapple instinctively crouched and covered her head when the tower exploded, even as her conscious mind struggled to believe what she saw. Showered with dirt and debris, her grey and black clothing gew mottled with brown dust, making her even harder to see among the rubble. She waited a moment before straightening up and looking around. Nothing remained of the tower but debris and choking dust, dust that sought eyes and throat. Coughing and spitting to clear her throat, Dapple looked up to see Alloryn struggling with some shadow trying to form around her.

“Hang in there, Alloryn, brother’s here somewhere!” Dapple shouted, then began the tedious task of making her way to what had been the south side of the tower, where Arien had gone through the wall. Oddly enough, this was where the most debris lay, as if the tower had been aimed at the knight.

Chaos was not something unfamiliar to the ranger. Nature was, in a lot of ways, Chaos. It forced one to react with limited warning unless one knew what they were looking for. Char could predict the weather based off of the humidity in the air, the temperature, the direction of the wind, and the appearance of the clouds in the sky coupled with the actions of plants and animals. He could even predict the path an individual he was tracking would take based off of the terrain and what the terrain indicated would lie ahead, but he had so far been unable to predict the actions of this battle. There were no warning signs, nor tracks telling a story in the path…there was just chaos.

The ground outside the window had been hard, but he’d rolled to his feet from his window dive with precision Da’ Moon could have been proud of, favoring the side his bow wasn’t protruding from. He’d arrived in the outdoors once more in a crouch, legs spread, on the balls of his feet, weapons in hand. He’d called out instruction, desperate to reach the side of his noble friend, and just as he’d started forward, the stone of the tower blew apart as it shattered in on itself. Char flung his right arm up in front of his face instinctively as he hunched against the explosion, feeling the debris of it pelt his cloak and body. It had stopped his momentum, staggering him to one knee, but he was quickly up again, his mind reeling from the thought that perhaps the collapse had crushed companions. And that’s when he saw her.

“Alloryn,” he breathed, his narrowed eyes incredulously witnessing the trapped sorceress, the woman with an acerbic tongue and an infallible link to her brother. They’d survived one adventure together, the same as Arien, Da’ Moon, and Kilgrim. This was the longest Char had stayed with any one group, and despite the sharp words Alloryn and he had shared on more than one occasion, he counted her a friend as well. There she was, trapped by magic he couldn’t even begin to understand, collared like a beast, and obviously in no end of discomfort.

“Hang in there, Alloryn,” Da’ Moon shouted. “Brother’s here somewhere!”

Char had his doubts about the help Arien could provide, knowing full well that the knight had been flung through a stone wall. He had once witnessed a porter carrying a load of military supplies along a cliff trail slip and plummet over the edge. The man had struck the rocks below with enough force to break every bone in his body and explode his head like a melon. The ranger hoped beyond hope that the knight hadn’t been forced through the wall with that much force, but reality was a demon Char had trouble expelling. None-the-less, the ranger wasn’t about to give up. With the crashing down of the tower, the separation of the company, and the obvious magic being thrown around like it was in surplus, he had to grasp a hold of hope and use it like a rope to climb up from a deep, dark well or he’d succumb to despair, and there simply wasn’t time for that.

Leaping forward once more, Char skipped over the rocks of the rubble like he would a mountainside dispersion of granite boulders, leaping from one large rock to another, swords quickly being sheathed so as not to accidentally slice himself.

(OOC: Assuming Char will come into view of the green-armed captain…)
Taking purchase upon the ground once more, Char’s brow furrowed once more at the sight of Arien in single combat with a man bearing a demonic green arm. The Thedell shield was shattered, and Arien seemed to be taking the worst of it. Slipping his swords from their sheathes once more, Char snarled like a wolf about to take down its prey, his muscular legs carrying him quickly into battle.

(OOC: If ol’ Greenarm doesn’t notice him, Char will sweep past, cutting the man as deep as he can with both blades, avoiding armor as he can. If Greenarm notices him, Char’ will attempt a bull rush maneuver, dropping his shoulder to knock the man to the ground, all the while prepared to defend as appropriate any sword strokes. If none of this is wise, or possible, he’ll move to flank the man with Arien and engage in a sword fight…woot!)

Arien had not expected the fight to be easy. However, he had certainly not expected to once again feel like a whelp of a mere ten summers, knocked to the ground time and again by his swordplay tutor.

Garrin had been the man's name. A swarthy foreigner, he had served as the captain of his grandsir's guards. At the time, Arien had cursed his gransir for placing him under the tutelage of such a cruel man; the bastard would parry the young Thedell's awkward blows and repay them with swift, painful raps with an oaken practice blade. Tears did nothing but entice more cruelty out of the man, and the young noble had spent plenty a night aching far too much to fall asleep.

Of course, this training had been necessary, and had served as the foundation to Arien's becoming a warrior. Years later, when the heir to House Thedell strapped on his armor and prepared to make his way in the world, grandsir had given him the enchanted shield that bore the Thedell crest. "Carry it well, boy," he had charged the young knight.

Now, the shield was ruined, broken, hanging uselessly from a numb arm, and Arien was clearly losing a deadly fight with a green-armed monster. Despite his best efforts, Arien felt black despair begin to creep over him, felt it force home the dark realization that he could not win. He would die here among the rubble, a failure. A failure to Alloryn. A failure to grandsir. A failure to himself. The shield had broken, the heir was next.

Suddenly, from the dust emerges the form of Alloryn. Or, at least, what appears to be Alloryn. Though no mage himself, Arien can plainly see that powerful magic is afoot here - Allyorn is clearly struggling with something beyond the knight's comprehension.

That struggle ignites something within Arien, and he steels his resolve. The despair gives way to anger. Alloryn is no quitter, and neither is he! If this will be the day that the knight dies, he will do his level best to make the victory a precious one for his foes. With a snarl of fury, Arien redoubles his attacks against the green-armed foe.


Laying it all on the line, here - Arien is going as close to beserk as he can. Clearly, his traditional style is not cutting it, so here's to hoping the dice gods stop laughing and start smiling on the knight.

Things moved in an incredible pace and dwarves aren't build to move in such speeds. Not even their minds work so swiftly - with the exception of the few who have chosen the path of rogues and cutthroats of course. That was one of the reasons why there were no dwarven mages around... or that was a theory Kilgim had come up with once in a drunken stupor some 11 (or was it 21) years ago.

In one heartbeat he was running to save the fallen lad, but Dapple surprised him once again like he had done more than once. He moved almost faster than the cleric's eye could follow and emptied a healing potion in one big swig. By the time the stout warrior priest reached the boy, he was already on his feet dancing away from Kilgim's thick fingers. "No need, old friend", she said and it took the bald dwarf another moment to realize she was speaking in his own language. It was of course no surprise to Kilgim. He'd known the kid for years and knew she was surprisingly fluent in dwarwen. "Ha, me knew that, lad. Just testin' ye. Now move!"

The tower was coming apart, but suddenly the crumbling and shaking seemed to slow down and nearly came to a stop. Not wasting any time to wonder why, Kilgim headed for the door only to be called back by Char: "Tru da win'ow! Now!" Window? Ye out o' yer daft mind, laddie? No time to argue either, the orange-bearded dwarf turned, summoned up some more speed and launched himself at the window after Dapple...

... and came a feet short of course. With Dapple pulling and the ranger pushing, Kilgim too was over and out in no time. A short drop and a hard fall and an uncontrolled roll later the priest was pushing himself back on his feet expecting the tower to fall on his head any moment. But it didn't. Not his way and not even on top of Arien. Instead, the tower vanished. Tons of rock and mortar went up in a cloud of dust. No fragments flying around or anything. Just dust everywhere, really everywhere. Whatta hell? Who are these people? Me didn' know the Imps 're that stron'
When the dwarf was finally able to open his eyes without a fear of getting them full of dust, what he saw in the place of the tower really hit him by surprise. It was Alloryn, in imperial red, ghostlike and struggling with something invisible... something serpentlike. Automatically the dwarf began to go through a long list of prayers in his mind trying to find something that could be of help to the sorceress. But no hidden words of power jumped up and called out to him. No, he needed more time.

After a while Kilgim forced himself to move his gaze from a dear friend to another. The lad seemed ok despite the fall and Char was already up and running. Arien! Must get t'Arien No knowing whether the tower had fallen on the knight or not, the priest scrambled across the rubble and after the ranger.

Adrian remembered all those times doing drills with the Grays. The Reds never really accepted him - probably because of his refusal to take a backseat to magic. While they were busy throwing magic missiles at targets, Adrian was drilling with the minutia. That's probably why Wind liked him so much - brash, arrogant and full of fire.

Valentine knew he had no future with Wind. They had a one night fling and she gave him a weapon. He can't expect anything from her for saving her. It was just the right thing to do. Still, he felt a certain attachment - A need for revenge almost. She had been dominated somehow, charmed, bewitched. Stripped of her freedom. The very reason Adrian deserted from the Empire in the first place. Freedom. And now his only friend in the world had suffered a fate worse than death, to be forced to essentially commit suicide.

Wizard's Twilight rarely saw survivors. Valentine knew full well, if she was able to hear at all, his words would be the last she hears. "I will avenge you..." he whispered into her ear through the dust of rubble and sounds of battle. He cursed slightly under his breath for not knowing any real recovery magics. Kilgrim must survive this encounter, it seems.

At that minute, Spellbinder took to the skies, and the rush to assist Arien began. No no, Valentine. This is personal. You are not indebted to them. You have bigger issues with which to concern yourself. His conscious whispered to him. He was once again conflicted - to help his friends or avenge his love. Is this how Jal feels all the time? No wonder... Adrian smirked.

But there really was no choice to be made. Adrian brushed the dust from Wind's head, made sure there was nothing attempting to finish her off (including one of his own) and then began to incant the same words Jal had spoken.

(OOC: Fly spell. If detect invis has worn off, recast it next. Adrian will be taking to the skies, flying South to scan for the other Red. He knows she's probably strong enough to fly, but not to Teleport, and he's assuming she didn't die in the crash. If after he's realistically searched as far as she could have ran and not found her, or if something really big and dangerous happens, he'll turn back and aid the others.)

His shield shattered, Arien can only cast aside the remains and redouble his effort against his for. The green colonel is distracted by Alloryn, taking his eyes off the knight. With an effort to put away the pain and channel the anger, Arien strikes hard and thrusts deep into the side of his opponent. The blade, so often turned by the green arm bites deeop into the flesh. It is a deep wound and Dalmer cries out as six inches of sharp steel drives through his inners. He twists away and staggers slightly, blood pouring out of the wound.

“Can’t you see I’m busy!” Dalmer yells out while holding his side with his demonic hand. “Morning will be here soon, it’s practically here!” and he leaps at you again as if he wasn’t mortally wounded. His attack is furious and angry, as Arien is struck across the face with what can only be called a bitch slap from the demonic hand. The knight is thrown back to the ground and Dalmer, as is only just remember his sword in the other hand, presses his attack.

As the others try to find their way in the dust and rubble of the fallen tower, the two mages take to the sky. Adrian can not spot the one missing red with the last of his detect invisibility spell.

The rest of the party spots Arien and Dalmer fighting. Arien is shieldless and being slapped around by the Green. But as Char, Dapple, Maximus and Kilgim move towards the knight, the ground starts to shake and there is a buzzing noise in the air.

Jal is the first to spot them, followed shortly by Adrian. The Mantis-warriors you meet before – four of them coming in on what appear to be giant dragonflies. On the ground, two more of the Ankheg break though the ground near the tower, cutting off the party from Arien and Dalmer.

While the Ankhegs take an interest in you, the Mantis warriors are focusing on Alloryn. The Warriors are all heading directly towards her and one, holding a staff seems to be commanding them to capture her.

OOC: you have two Ankhegs, four giant Dragonflies, and 6 Mantis-warriors The Leader is one of the two riding the ankheg.

Deep in the mountains, she began to stir in her sleep. Within her dreams she could her the mistress calling. Faintly, but constantly, with a desperate edge that she was unfamiliar with from the mistress. Come to me, she was calling, come to me so I may fly again.
But wakefulness does not come easily to her kind. She forced herself to roll and twist, removing her from the warmth and comfort of her trove. Reptilian scales knocking over gold and platinum from their piles, dislodging the ancient weapons and magic artifacts of the bygone years. She had grown some since her last wakeful period, and stretching her wings was difficult in the cave. She would have to find a new one before the next slumber.

With a forced effort she rose upon her four legs and slowly worked her way to the centre of the cave, looking straight up into the opening above and the stars above. That is why the mistress sounds so weak, it is dark outside still, but day will come soon and she will regain her powers.

Crouching not unlike a cat ready to pounce, she thrusts herself into the air with wings folded back – up, up, up until clear of the cave walls her wings unfurled and she took flight again. Feeling the air slip pass her again and the smell of the wind, she felt alive and vibrant. If not for the call, her mind may have swayed to thinking of mating, but she had more important issues to deal with. First – food, and then onwards.

The mistress is calling…

****

The Thri-kleen mage looked at the beings around his pod with distant. Mammals! By the Mother how he hated mammals. They were sick to look at with their skin and flesh exposed and their skeleton systems within. Ick!

The Green one was coming back into this plain. He felt it within his carapace and knew what he and his pod would have to do. Exterminate the mammals and secure the green one. Then, he would have to sacrifice himself or one of the others to hold her, bind her and contain her forever. As it should have been done centuries ago. But they had so little time as the dawn would be coming in a few turns.

He fazzed his orders to the Pod and gestured at the target. The floating female mammal was almost bursting with the vile energy of the green one.

Kill them all. Bind the Green one. No Light! Or we are trifles, light as air.

Char's momentum was only momentarily slowed at the arrival of the Thri-kreen. Kicking off of the rubble, the ranger let drove his muscles to their limit gathering speed. He was intent on reaching Adrien, and nothing--not a group of ferocious, intelligent insects--nothing was going to stop him.

Normally fairly calm and collected, Char was feeling his blood boil at situation they found themselves in. He wasn't as attached to Alloryn as Adrien, and he had no idea what had actually occurred in the tower other than they were dealing with a whole lot of magic. What he did know was that his friend was in trouble, and now there were, in his estimation, small hills he had to traverse in order to reach the mountain.

Reaching the Thri-kreen, the ranger feinted left, jogging onto his left foot as though he was going to try and snake past the creature's right side, then with a spring in his step like a mountain cat, Char jogged right. Leaping from the ball of his right foot, Char dove left once more, into a roll with the intention of dodging past the creatures and gaining the open ground to reach Adrien. Within the space of passing the first of the enemy while diving and rolling, Char's deadly Kukri blade lashes out at the back of the Thri-Kreen's knee--he could at least attempt to injure the enemy he passed.

(OOC: As before, Char's intent is to reach Adrien. If you are taking us to that point, Char will attempt the options I outlined earlier: Assuming Char will come into view of the green-armed captain…

Taking purchase upon the ground once more, Char’s brow furrowed once more at the sight of Arien in single combat with a man bearing a demonic green arm. The Thedell shield was shattered, and Arien seemed to be taking the worst of it. Slipping his swords from their sheathes once more, Char snarled like a wolf about to take down its prey, his muscular legs carrying him quickly into battle.

If ol’ Greenarm doesn’t notice him, Char will sweep past, cutting the man as deep as he can with both blades, avoiding armor as he can. If Greenarm notices him, Char’ will attempt a bull rush maneuver, dropping his shoulder to knock the man to the ground, all the while prepared to defend as appropriate any sword strokes. If none of this is wise, or possible, he’ll move to flank the man with Arien and engage in a sword fight…woot!)

Maximus was alive, how he had managed that with everything they had encountered and his rescue of Jal was way beyond him at present.
But he was alive and his fellow party members and Jal needed him now more then ever.

With a flying girl, a tough bas***d of a green seemingly kicking Arien’s butt, and now on top of all that yet more Thri-Kreen warriors, could this day get any worse.

Without the ability to fly like Jal or Adrian and at the moment not close enough to help the Knight, Maximus did the only thing he could do, and attacked the new enemies before him. Picking as his target the nearest of the mantis creatures, be it Ankhag or Mantis man.
With a loud cry, sword raised and shield ready the large ex-gladiator attacked once more....

(OOC: Ok in Brom's above post when he says he is headed to help Adrien does he mean Ad's character of Adrian or Olan's character of Arien?? I think he means Olan but want to be sure.)

At first, as Jal spiraled skyward, he wasn’t sure what he might do when he reached Alloryn, if he managed to reach her at all – the aura of power emenating from her was incredible (dangerously so) and the urchin mage wasn’t certain that he would even be able to get near Arien’s sister without literally getting fried by it – but something told him he had to try, no matter the cost. Surprisingly, other than a noticeable tingle as he drew closer, the magic surrounding Arien’s sister did not instantly cook or otherwise seem to harm Jal and, now, he was close enough to see the torturous collar bound around the girl’s neck.

The clasp of the thing looked entirely too complex to be released without some specific key or other object, the Spellbinder noticed sourly, and, though a Knock spell might have had some effect on the thing, Jal, regretfully, had never taken the time to learn that simple weaving of mana. He had caught sight of Valentine in the skies nearby and was set to ask the former Red for assistance (though it was doubtful that Adrien would have learned such a ‘useless’ spell, either) when Jal heard the ominous buzzing…

Oh no, the odd little mage thought, his eyes widening as he spotted the flight of giant dragonflies with their Thri-Kreen riders, not the bug men, again! Things had not gone so well for him the last time they had encountered these creatures, he recalled… Had I not been distracted by the dead and had sufficient room to call upon anything effective…
But this time, my beloved, he thought he heard Wynter whisper, there is all the room in the sky…
The Spellbinder spun once in the air, hopefully searching for a glimpse of the ghost girl even as her words faded away. Nothing… where are you, Wynter? Whether he could see her or not, and whether hearing her voice just then had been a trick of his mind or, indeed, Wynter, the words rang true. Here, in the sky with most of the others still earthbound, Jal realized that he could bring his full power to bear with little fear of harming his friends. Just one fireball would sap the remains of his mana reserves, he knew, as he focused on the flight of dragonflies and began uttering the incantation, but hoefully it would be enough.

Should it not be, he thought, placing himself between Alloryn and the flight of giant bugs, then today I make the sacrifice I should have made for Wynter those many years ago…
At that moment, the fireball burst to life in his hand and, without hesitation, he launched it at the dragonfly riders (the one in the lead if I have to specify a single target). “Valentine,” he shouted, “the girl! Mind the girl!”

((OOC: Okay… Jal’s commited at a suicidal level, here… he’s seeing “last chance for redemption” in this situation (or perhaps a chance to join Wynter, at last?)… Once the fireball is sent off – depending on the results, of course – Ol’ Spooky’ll start ‘wandering off into the Twilight’… casting Light on the eyes of any Thri-Kreen in range, if possible, and, assuming/hoping there are opportunities to bring heavier magics to bear, hitting the buggers with fireballs and/or lightning bolts as he can… Ummm… If Jal burns himself out, I still wanna claim a spot in the next installment. ))

Of course they escaped. Such would be my lot in life. I'll find them eventually. They branded Wind a traitor, and by all chances she's already dead. Perhaps what I couldn't do for her I might be able to do for Arien's sister.
Almost as if someone was confirming his decision to abandon the search, multiple bugs joined the already chaotic situation. Big and dangerous enough for ya, Valentine? His thoughts rushed back what seemed to be ages ago, to the little beggars and the disagree over their treatment, and to his professing of knowledge about the bugs. Fitting that what creatures were to provide his breakout moment with this new group would also be present at what could possibly be the grand finale.

He was running low on mana, having cast several high powered spells. Spellbinder could not have much more, which meant they might just be in trouble. If Arien's sister was as strong as everyone had described her to be, then she might just be the key to winning.

Valentine returned to the scene to find Spellbinder slinging incantations frantically. That fool is going to kill himself! Doesn't he see what happened to Wind?!
“Valentine,” Jal shouted in between bursts of incantations, “the girl! Mind the girl!”

"Jal you idiot! You're going to die!" He shouted back, zooming through the dogfight towards the girl. They both knew she was the prize here. If she goes, neither one of them will have enough magic to dispatch these bugs, and the mundanes on the ground will be picked off one by one. Adrian swished his hair and readied his sword once more. Doing battle under the stars and over the ground was one of his childhood fantasies. Twas a shame he was smarter than to simply engage in melee so high up, and with so many other distractions. No, he had a plan.

The demonic looking clasp on her neck seemed to be holding her back...

There were a few options here for Valentine to consider. He was not quite ready to burn into the Twilight, and thanks to his preparedness, he didn't have to. I've been saving this for a long time... Seems a fitting time to part ways.
But first he had to free the female Arien. It was an Imperial clasp. Valentine had seen it before... being this close jogged his memory. Should be easy enough to dispel.

(OOC: Knock knock!)

Green armed Green attacking Arien, and having the upper hand. Reds attacking and turning invisible. Alloryn writhing in the grip of some unknown entity, and enough power around to topple a tower. Could the odds get more impossible, Dapple wondered darkly.

She was answered with the appearance of the Ankhegs, Mantis and Dragonflies. Oh look, they brought friends, taunted the dead voice within,time to cut your losses and get out of here.
Her stomach churning in anticipation of new pain, Dapple drew and launched daggers at the leader of the Thri-Kreen, launching herself after them in a vicous flying kick.

In the Air
The Mantis Warriors are moving in towards the writhing form of Alloryn. Jal mind is bend towards a fireball when the air is filled with whistling noise as the Thri-Kreen throw their crystal wedges at the mages. The first hits Jal deep in the chest, followed quickly by three more that bite deep into the mage’s flesh. The mage loses the spell he was casting in the realization that his life is now over, but hangs on to the fly spell.

“Valentine,” he shouted, spitting blood in the desperate need to communicate, “The girl! Mind the girl!”

Wynter is before him now, clear as the last day he ever saw her alive, It is time my love. You have just one last task. Follow me to the end Jal, we have a demon to defeat.”
The small mage lets go of the fly spell and with a smile plummets to the ground.

Adrian sees the death of Jal but is unable to stop it. As the diminutive mage falls, heit seems that he uses the last of his fly spell to fall at an angle, as if focusing on a specific place to fall – some final plan to his sacrifice.

Under attack, Adrian dodges a couple of attacks but one cuts him across the arm. He struggles to maintain his spell and manages to get the last syllables out to use a knock spell on Alloryn. The collar breaks off immediately and the green glow that surrounds the girl becomes stronger in the night sky. Her eyes fill with the green energy and she stands erect, almost posing like a vengeful goddess as she points her arms at two of the flying attackers and green energy shoots from her hands – incinerating both rider and mount. She looks over to Adrian across the night sky and smiles a ruthless smile, “You freed me. As a reward, I will let you live to mate with me.” She says is a deep cold voice. “Dawn is coming!”

Suddenly, Alloryn is wrapped in a globe of darkness, darker than the night. The screams from within the dark are filled with anguish, as if facing the worst fate of a lifetime.

On the Ground
Char rushes to get past the Ankheg and the Thri-kreen. As he dodges his way past the one that has dismounted (not the leader), he can see out of the corner of his eye, the creature draw the crystal wedges to throw at his exposed back. Char prepares to weave and dodge as best he can when Maximus comes out of the dust and attacks the insect with a powerful sideways slice of his vorpal blade that tears the monster in half, killing it instantly. Not stopping, Maximus throws himself without fear or thought of personal safety at the Ankheg mount. The Gladiator let out a mighty cry of war, lands with a powerful upwards cut; taking off the head of the Ankheg at the neck, then rolls out of the way of the bodies collapses.

Kilgim rushes to Arien as well, seeing the wound that the knight has taken and the blood flowing freely as well, he knows his good friend will need his help if he can only stop that commander.

Dapple runs a sprint and throws herself into the air, feet first towards the Mantis Leader. The attack misses the leader but she lands a solid blow on the Ankheg mount, breaking through carapace. She tumbles from the attack to avoid a viscous bite from the giant insect. The Thri-kreen does not attack Dapple but uses its staff to cast a spell skyward.

Dalmer slams his demonic arm into Arien’s chest and the knight stumbles backwards in pain. The commander is about to smash it into the Knight’s face when Char comes up behind him moving fast. The Green gestures with his hand and Char is frozen where he is, stuck as if held by a giant invisible hand. “Perfect!” Dalmer laughs with great glee, “I’ll crush your friend since I couldn’t crush you. After you watch him die, then I’ll finish you off.”

Char struggles but can not get free of the grip. He feels the force around him constrict tighter and tighter. The pain is intense as the pressure builds.

Suddenly, something crashes to the ground very close to Dalmer. He is startled by the impact and is forced to throw himself out of the way. Char is released and falls to the ground. Dalmer gets back to his feet. “I can’t concentra …”

Arien moves with a determination borne by sheer will. He stands up, ignoring the pain and difficulty of moving and attacks with a single thrust. The blade drives past the Commander’s deflective block and strikes through the left eye. “Lin’naur” he commands, and the flames ignite to burn flesh, eye and brain. Dalmer struggles briefly and then his last eye rolls in his head and he dies a flaming death.

Kilgim arrives as fast as his dwarven legs can move him. He looks to Arien and to Char, both badly injured. Char waves a hand to Arien and Kilgim immediately goes to the knight The three of them look down upon the body of Jal, dead from chest wound and impact damage.

OOC: There is one wounded Ankheg on the ground and a Mantis leader. In the sky are two mantis warriors on Dragonflies. Alloryn (?) is free and in the dark.

Arien: 1 hp left before healing
Char: Seriously wounded
Maximus: Fine
Dapple: Fine
Kilgim: Fine
Adrian: Mated but fine
Jal – Very very dead. Sorry Eol but he just didn’t have enough HP or AC to withstand the attack. I rarely kill a PC, but this I think as a good death.