Even as Jal's body crashed to the ground, Arien's brain had unconsciously identified the man as being dead; no mortal could live with the kind of damage that had been inflicted upon the small mage. The knight felt a dull numbness spread through his body and soul, and as the final opportunity for an opening presented itself, he struck, thrusting his blade through the eye and into the brain of the monstrous Green officer.

As the aberration fell dead to the ground, Arien found himself slumping; he was so very tired. The bards that sang of knightly deeds, of heroic tales, never seemed to fully delve into the horror and despair that was battle. Bone weary, aching from the physical punishment he had taken, and reeling from the brutal death of one had had begun to trust as a friend, the heir to House Thedell came dangerously close to giving up. What did it matter? Alloryn was... wrong somehow, there were still more foes... there would always be more foes.

The knight's eyes fixed on the dead face of Jal, and noted that, despite the horrible wounds, the man's expression was oddly peaceful. Realization dawned on Arien. Fool, he chided himself. He gave his life, and you would quit, let his sacrifice be for naught?
"Not while there is still breath in my body," he murmured. Not fully aware of the actions of Char and Kilgim, Arien reached to his belt, unstoppered a potion, and quaffed the entire contents. He ached to tend to Jal, but there was nothing to be done for him now, and there were still enemies to fight.

The knight considered the current combat situation. Maximus and Dapple semeed to have the ground battle well in hand, but the mantis leader concerned him; Arien estimated that he would be of the most use there. Shieldless, and feeling unbalanced due to it, the knight moved to confront the insectoid foe.

"Look to the skies," he called to his comrades. "How can we bring them down?"

Of course, the biggest concern of all was Alloryn. Why was she so dark? What evil was afoot here?

As he moved, Arien called out to her. "Ally! Hear me! It is Arien! How can I help you?"


If I have placed too many actions here, say so, and I'll edit. And I *am* assuming that Arien will be able to fight and move, post-potion; if that is not the case, again, I'll edit. If Kilgim insists that Arien be still long enough for him to heal, Arien will listen, but otherwise, he feels that there is too much still to be done.

As he attacked Maximus was in his element, the bloodlust, the killing, the cry of an enemy dying all music to his ears though he had hated being a slave he had loved the fight. With two Thri Kreen dead in his wake and not a scratch on him, he thought nothing could go wrong, and then it happened. As he eyed his next enemy, the apparent Insect leader, he saw a body falling from the sky only to realize in horror as it hit the ground in a bloody explosion of body parts that it was none other then Jal.

“NO!!!” He screamed.

Without any thought for himself, his bloodlust turned immediately into insane rage, he charged forward, heedless of any threats, to kill anything not a member of the party.

(OOC: OK Roger Maximus is for the moment gone; his desire to kill is overwhelming if any Mantis warriors, INSECTS or greens are in his way he will attack without finesse just pure rage. Having seen Jal die after saving him the Gladiator has become a killing machine.)

POST EDITED

It was there, the target, the enemy. He was within reach, just one more step and Char could lunge, decapitating him with a crosscut maneuver that had served the ranger so well over the years, and then...then there was that crushing embrace, that bear hug driven by unnatural forces threatening to cause the dirty woodsman like a plump melon. His ribs creaked, then one popped, and another, lancing pain shooting through his chest and causing a ragged cry of pain to tear through his constricting throat. The veins in his temples bulged as the pressure increased. Blood began to flow freely from his nose due to the bursting capillaries within it, matting his mangy mustaches and flowing between his teeth, into his beard. Wide-eyed and sure that he was about to die, Char focused his anger, his rage at being denied the ability to save Arien in an ineffectual effort to stave off the effects of the summoned, invisible trap.

And then it was over. Like a camp whore, the force released the ranger and disappeared into thin air causing the man to fall to his knees, drawing in ragged, fiery breaths of cold, mountain air as his vision momentarily darkened, consumed by the sudden rush of oxygen to his head. Despite the agony of it, Char dropped his hands to the spongy earth, coughing violently as blood drained from his facial cavities. Through sheer will-power, the ranger pushed back to his knees, swords held weakly in hand, preparing to face the danger of the green-armed man he felt sure was going to turn and remove his head at any second. Only, when his vision had cleared, he was looking across the body of the man as Arien hastily downed a vial of what could only be healing potion.

The knight struggled valiantly to his feet, tossing aside the vial as he rushed past, his voice feint over the waves pounding in the ranger's ears.

"Look to the skies," he heard Arien call. "How can we bring them down?"

Turning painfully about, Char squinted towards the heavens, casting about with his eyes in search of that which Arien was concerned until they fell upon the enemy still airborne.

The fight still raged.

Dropping his blades where he knelt, Char stuffed his hand into his belt pouch, searching about for the crystal vials he kept there until one rolled into his hand. Tearing it free--his icy blue eyes still registering the scene: Alloryn's strange behavior, the positions of his allies, Jal dead mere feet from him--the grimy woodsman violently tore the stopper free, spat it aside, and quaffed the sweet-tasting liquid...all of it...the same as Arien had done seconds before.

Dropping the vial as the potion still coated his throat, the ranger sought his bow, and an arrow, determined to seek payment for their suffering. He hadn't come to terms with Jal's strange affectations, but the patchwork wizard had been an ally, and Char himself had nearly died along with Arien. He was going to get some satisfaction from this conflict!

(OOC: Char will leave his swords at his feet--not planning on going anywhere--and use his bow and arrows to try and bring down the flying enemy)

Well, this was it. This was one of the reasons Adrian left the Empire. Never would he be able to do this as a lowly red, sparring with mantis warriors while some godlike dragon assists him.

The rebellious mage watched with some sense of shock and awe as Arien's sister, or whatever she was, tore through the opposition. It seems I finally found a way to survive this...
As weaponry continued to pelt Valentine, and mid-air spars continued, his bread and butter it seems was incapacitated. Why wasn't she incinerating the rest of them? A Darkness spell? That was uncharacteristically odd... His fly spell would be wearing off soon, and he was running out of mana to recast it. Those screams are horrid. What is wrong with her?!

Valentine heard the dying words of Jal Spellbinder echo across the battle as he continued to spar with the flying bug creatures. “The girl! Mind the girl!” As much as he was spooky, Spellbinder had his moments, and though he had little interesting in "honoring" his dying wish, or not letting him die in vain, as thousands do each day... he did feel a sense of camaraderie with the other wizard.

It was a gamble. But he had not noticed Alloyren casting a darkness spell. It must have come from another mage. Her screams of pain and agony mean something else is going on. Oh well... time to act. He could always burn some life force to regain his wings should they fail on him. This would probably be the first time he's spent all his mana. Funny to feel like a real wizard for a change instead of a hybrid.

Valentine hovered in place, reciting the incantations that very well might be his last, if something should go awry. He focused all his counterspelling powers and centered the dispel magic spell directly over where he guesses the center of the darkness would reside. Hopefully Alloyren won't lose whatever magic is keeping her up as well... Adrian prepares mentally to dive for her if this doesn't work.

I hope the guys on the ground can find a way to finish these things off

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 vicious bite from the giant insect. The Thri-kreen does not attack Dapple but uses its staff to cast a spell skyward.
Dapple tumbled away from the Ankheg’s bite, the monster moving quickly despite the blow Dapple had dealt it. The resounding crack of breaking carapace had been satisfying, but not as gratifying as an outright kill would have been. Idly, Dapple worried if bug guts were corrosive; she’d have to check her boots closely after this.

The Thri-kreen astride the Ankheg ignored the commotion and pointed its staff into the air, presumably to cast a spell. Grimly, Dapple drew the last of her daggers and closed with the Ankheg once more, aiming kicks and punches at its limbs. If cracking its carapace wouldn’t bring it down, Dapple would just have to disable it, limb by limb.

(OOC: Ok, just so you don’t think Dapple is a cold hearted, self centered brat (though, for the record, she IS), my thinking is that she didn’t see Jal fall. When a bug three times your size is looming over you and trying to kill you, you don’t really have time to look anywhere else.)

The exhilaration of slaying two foes in such style filled Maximus with confidence. He threw himself at the mantis leader with gusto and rage. The insect mage moved its staff to block the sweeping attack, but the blade cut through the staff and continued onwards to cut thorough the shell and body of the creature. If it could have looked surprised, it would have as it died a swift death.

Dapple attacked at the limbs of the Ankheg but found herself dodging more than hitting the creature. Then she was forced to move in towards the beast to avoid a blow and found an opening. The shell beneath was softer, more pliable and Dapple attacked with one, two and a third kick that seemed to cause great pain. With its master gone and the pain intense, the Ankheg dove back into its hole again to dig away from pest that hurt it so.

Char brings bow to aim and fires at the flying creatures. He has the second arrow in the air before the first hits target. The Thri-kreen is hit as it attempts to leap from mount to the blackness around Alloryn. Unable to use its dodging abilities, the two arrows pierce its carapace and it loses its balance, tumbling and falling until it crashes to the ground – a gooey icky mess.

Valentine casts his dispel magic on the globe. Even before he finishes his spell, he feels a power to it that is almost perfection. He watches as the darkness is ripped apart like cloth. Alloryn hangs there in the sky, green fire burning where her eyes should be and green energy glowing around her hand.

Inside, Alloryn had been fighting for what seemed like so long. This entity that called herself the green goddess was purging her from her own mind and Alloryn was starting to lose. It needed light to gain full power and the battle was distracting, but she was losing her will to fight.

Then suddenly, Alloryn felt a wave pass through her like a cooling breeze. The green goddess was torn out of her body and mind. She saw clearly again, and had control over her body

And she was 100 feet above the ground. Training took over as she began to plunge and she cast the fastest spell in her memory – featherfall.

Valentine saw the green fire extinguish and the young lady seemingly come to herself again. Alloryn feel for a few seconds but then she started to float to the earth, gently towards her brother’s waiting arms.

The last Mantis Warrior pulled up its mount and flew high, turning around to flee from the now mismatched battle.

Alloryn landed near Arien. The two looked at each other for a moment but then Alloryn collapsed, unconscious.

OOC: You may shoot at the departing Thri-kreen if you’d like. Bob – you had only a 5% chance of dispelling the presence from Alloryn and you got it. – That would be a mage’s Natural 20.

At first, Jal was at a loss as to why the fireball spell had failed… My reserves are low, yes, but there should be more than enough for at least this… but, as his disbelieiving eyes looked to his hands as if to verify that the fireball, in fact, hadn’t manifested, the urchin mage realized the problem. A thri-kreen throwing crystal had imbedded firmly and deeply in his chest, sundering the jagged, spidery-script tattoo that had bound the spell to him to begin with.
I’m… dead? he blinked dumbly at the edge of the crystal protruding from his chest and seemed almost confused by the spray of blood that had soaked his arms, hands, and face. I can do nothing more, then, my beloved, he realized, turning to seek out Adiren and, hopefully, at least let the former Red know that the ariel battle and ‘rescuing of Alloryn’ was now completely in his hands… “Valentine,” he croaked, blood filling his mouth even as two more of the thri-kreen crystals slammed into him and spun him about, “The girl! Mind the girl!”

It is time, my love…
“Wynter?” Jal’s eyes welled with tears of joy as the girl filled his sight – not the ethereal phantasm of her that he had become accustomed to over these last years but, rather, Wynter as he remembered her in life; as beautiful and warm and alive as she had ever been… “Time, my love,” he asked, almost hesitant to try and touch her for fear that this, perhaps, was nothing more than an illusion… The tears flowed freely and, despite the pain of the mortal wounds he had suffered, the once lost mage knew he was found when Wynter took his hand and held it to her cheek.

Yes, my sweet Spellbinder, it is finally time. You have just one last task, she smiled softly at him and kissed the palm of his hand before releasing it and floating slowly earthward towards where Arien still battled Dalmer, Follow me to the end, Jal. We have a demon to defeat.
The Spellbinder, seeing the scene below and reading the knowing smile on Wynter’s lovely face, understood what had to be done to make his redemption complete and to, finally, make his reunion with Wynter a reality. Smiling, Jal maintained the fly spell long enough to position himself over the man with the demonic arm and, as the last of his mortal breath passed his lips, released the spell along with his staff, and let his body hurtle towards the ground. He didn’t feel the impact, of course - he was already free of his body by the time it crashed into the ground and broke beyond any hopes of repair – but, hand in hand with his love, he did watch as his last act on this plane of existence served to distract Arien’s opponent long enough for the heir of House Thedell to score a killing blow on the abomination.

It is done, my love, Wynter beamed, wrapping her arms around him as they pirouetted above the ruined grounds of the Keep, There is nothing more for us here… we can go now.
He kissed her, then, softly and lovingly as he had always ached to do since even before he had escaped the Master, and held her close to him as they drifted closer to the earth. There is just one more thing, Wynter, my love, he whispered as they reached the ground and floated for a moment near where his body now lay, I should say goodbye…
She nodded her understanding and, hand-in-hand with him, moved among these last companions of Jal Spellbinder as the urchin-mage’s spirit bid his farewells to each in turn. They found Maximus, first; the one among the group that had accepted Jal as he was from the beginning and, despite perceived oddities, befriended and even protected him as best he could throughout it all. Jal placed a hand on the man-mountain’s shoulder, smiled his thanks, and embraced the former gladiator (whether Maximus knew it or not). You were a true friend, Maximus, and, should it be in my power to do so, I will repay your kindness as often as I can until, at last, we meet again.
Dapple was close by and, as such, came next in line for Jal’s visitation. He and the rogue had never had many words pass between them even though, of the group, it was likely with this one that he had the most in common… outcasts and shadows, both, with secrets kept that none in this world would likely uncover by chance alone… He is a good lad, Jal said to Wynter as they floated around the dark little thief, I hope that, someday, whatever it is that eats at his insides… at his spirit… will be reconciled. I… I don’t know what to say to him…
Her, Wynter corrected.

Really? Jal looked, uncertain, at Dapple for a moment… he’d never have known… Interesting… At a loss for what to say or do for Dapple Moon, Jal finally decided that, if nothing else, that the thief should at least profit from anything that he had left behind. He whispered in Dapple’s ear, reminding her that his staff, his dagger, and his cloak would likely fetch a fair penny somewhere and, should she care to have them… You’ll know where they’d be best sold.
Then there was Char. The ranger had never been comfortable around Jal, perhaps was even a bit frightened or unnerved by the mage’s ability to see and converse with the dead, but had nonetheless accepted Jal into the group and, at times, even seemed to gain a bit of understanding as to Jal’s madness. Jal kept a respectful distance from the rugged man but did pass close enough to impart his thanks.

Kilgrim, like Maximus, Jal felt comfortable in touching and, as he neared the dwarven battle-cleric, reached out a hand and placed ghostly fingertips on the tattooed axes on Kilgrim’s brow. Extend my thanks to your cousin, good dwarf, he said, smiling at Kilgrim, and my love to Mistress Gwanelle. You honor your kind, your kin, and your God, Kilgrim. Blessed be.
Jal looked skyward, then, spying Adrian still flying in the pre-dawn skies. Had Jal lived, he thought, he might have asked Adrian to, perhaps, teach him a bit more of the combat arts so that he might have been more useful in future missions. He would have taunted and teased you relentlessly, my love Wynter smiled.

Yes, Jal smiled in return, but he also wouldn’t have denied me… He’s no Imperial, after all.
Finally, Jal and Wynter moved towards Arien, touching the knight’s broken shield as they floated past, and, when they reached the battle weary Hier of House Thedell, Jal stopped, and bowed low. It was an honor and a privilege, Lord Thedell, to have served at your side and died in your defense. I have no doubts, now, that any of these remaining would make the same sacrifice. Keep them well, my lord, these are true friends and, trust me, such things are hard to find in this world.
Are you ready, my love, Wynter querried as Jal rose from his bow.

I am, he smiled, taking her hand in his again before looking at each of his companions one last time…

They’ll be fine, Jal, she promised.

I know, he answered as the material world faded away, revealing the portal to the next plane, but I will miss them nonetheless…

((OOC: Okay… there we be… all wrapped up. *sniffsniff* I’ll leave it up to you all as to whether or not you got any sense or sight of Jal’s ‘farewells’… Thanks for a fantastic adventure, all. *bows* It truly has been my extreme pleasure to participate.))

With the success of his first volley still fresh, Char was already trying to capitalize on his luck. So focused was he on the enemy that he failed to see what occurred with Alloryn: A threat still existed, and the ranger was intent on ending that threat.

Drawing a bead on the thri-kreen seeking an escape, Char knocked another arrow, pulling the string back until the feathers of his fletching tickled his dirt-smeared cheek. Releasing a slow breath, the mountain man let fly, his hand darting back to his quiver as the strong quivered, the arrow released from its roost to fly towards the back of the target. Snatching another arrow from his quiver, Char made a smooth, fluid motion once more as he sent another arrow after the first.

The rush of slaying two of the mantis type creatures so swiftly and in such style not seen since his days in the Arena filled Maximus with confidence. Without hesitation and still somewhat in a mindless rage he threw himself at the mantis leader in savage glee. The insect mage had just enough time to move its staff to block the sweeping attack, but the big gladiators Vorpal weapon combined with the rage of losing his only friend among the group, cut through it as if it were but butter. The blade then continued onwards to cut thorough the shell and body of the creature. As the Vorpal cut through it, Maximus looked it directly in its eyes.

“That’s for my friend, rot in hell insect!!”

If it could have looked surprised, it would have as it died a swift, hopefully painful, death. With the slaying of their leader the rest of the Mantis warriors, all one of them Maximus saw, fled skyward and with that the rage left him and the proud warrior fell to his knees.

His friend Jal was gone, after all he had done to keep him alive, he was still dead. He had seen many die in the arena living by the code of ‘make no friends, for you may have to kill them’ but this had been different this was not the arena. So he had made a friend of Jal who the others had clearly thought of as strange but who had been no more stranger then any of them. No more friends
Rising to his feet he started to rejoin the others when he was stopped in his tracks as he felt what seemed like arms wrap around him. Somehow he knew who they belonged to even if he could not see them.

“Goodbye Jal, I will remember”

The feeling gone, he moved once again towards the rest....

(OOC: I must apologize Roger I thought I had posted here earlier this week but it was not till today that I realized I had not. )

Dapple bobbed and weaved as she fought with the Ankheg, a deadly ballet of violent cadence. Spiked limbs waved at her from seemingly everywhere, and she dodged a deadly thrust by ducking under the insect itself. Glancing up, she noticed the under carapace throbbing slightly, and she realized that this part of the creature’s armour was softer, more flexible. She dropped onto her back, feet reaching up with a flurry of kicks, and she felt the ankheg shuddering around her with the impact. It shrilled a horrific whistle of pain, and dove into the ground, showering Dapple with more dirt and debris as it desperately tunnelled away.

The bedraggled thief hauled herself to her feet, and a quick look around revealed no new targets. She began brushing off her clothes, settling her cloak around her once more as she took the measure of the battleground.

Char was standing, bow in hand with an arrow nocked, seemingly unnecessary. Adrian was aloft, robes waving gracefully in the wind, his expression remote as ever. Arien held Alloryn who appeared unconscious, if otherwise untouched. Kilgrim stood nearby, his expression grim, but then, the dwarf didn’t glory in battle the way his brethren did. Maximus was on his knees, as if he’d fallen, and the slump in his shoulders was uncharacteristic for the showy arena fighter. Where was Jal?

Dapple cocked her head, puzzled, and stepped closer, her big boots agile on the broken ground. She stopped, cloak swirling, and she looked down at the broken form of the strange little mage.

Oddly enough, though the dust had settled from the tower’s collapse, enough remained in the air to make the thief’s eyes water, and her breath catch in her throat. She scrubbed at her face with the back of her hand, still staring at the dead man. His filthy, bloody face bore a smile, and her first thought was that he was free.

Her second thought was that his staff, his dagger, and his cloak, once cleaned up, would fetch a fair price, if one knew the right market. She crouched down, ready to search his pockets, but instead, she merely passed gentle fingers over his staring eyes, closing them forever. She rose, abruptly, the dust really smarting now, and stalked away.

“Stupid fool,” she muttered hoarsely to no-one in particular. ”Get yourself killed pretending to be a hero.”

*whoo*

The battle mage briskly brushed his long hair away from his face as it fluttered in the now calm skies. He nailed it... whatever it happened to be. Arein's sister would now be free, and what was more, Jal had his final wish.

Although whatever demon had come to inhabit his impromptu ward was apparently gone, the danger was still readily apparent. He was being watched from below... his companions were relying on him to finish this battle. His first epic duel, it was almost symbolic to Valentine that he leave no enemy alive to report to whatever diabolical source the Empire had contracted.

Though the battle was won, the war still required one key victory. Adrian flew off after the mantis creature.

(OOC: If he can catch up, fight away with the sword, if not, then try the crossbow)

Exhausted, Arien knelt beside the unconscious form of Alloryn. "Ally?" he murmured. "Can you hear me?" The young man waved for Kilgim to come and take a look at her.

While the knight didn't really understand magic, he'd seen enough of it in his life to comprehend that something had been controlling his twin, and that the actions of Adrian had broken that controlling link. For that, he owed the man a debt.

The others pursued the fleeing mantis warrior, but Arien had neither energy nor inclination for such activities, nor was he about to leave his sister unattended. "Have a care," he called out. "Do not pursue too far; we won't be able to handle more trouble if we get seperated."

As he knelt, bone-weary, the heir to House Thedell allowed his gaze and thoughts to turn to the body of their fallen companion. Arien was unaware of Jal's inclination on matters of death and the treatment of remains; he was unsure if the man would prefer to be buried or cremated. Since there was no real knowledge to be had, and given that Kilgim was a priest of his dwarven god, the knight assumed that they would probably build a pyre for the mage, but he would first consult the others about this. It seemed a fitting end, a hero's funeral, one that the spellbinder deserved.

Arien surrendered to grief and guilt - what could he have done differently? Had the mage not joined Arien in the knight's single-minded (selfish?) quest to rescue Ally or die trying, would he not yet live?

Then again, Alloryn would be dead had Jal not come. Arien felt petty and small with the realization that he would make that trade every single time. The fact that Jal had known the risks and had chosen them willingly did little to salve the knight's conscience.

As Arien mused, wallowing in powerful emotions, he felt a cool calm wash over him. A sensation, an emotion, a presence. There were no words, but the conflicted knight could not mistake the message. Peace. Acceptance. Understanding. Goodwill. Loyalty.

Jal had reached whatever afterlife he sought, Arien was sure of it. That understanding somehow helped ease the burden the knight was carrying. Abruptly, Arien took his feet, then bowed low. "Thank you, Jal," he whispered. "May the gods look over your spirit, friend. Enjoy your rest."

As quickly as the sensation had washed over Arien, it was gone, but it took much of the knight's guilt with it. He and the mage could not have been much more different, but the strange little man had been true to the end, and had made his choice willingly - just as Arien would have done in his place. The heir to House Thedell would honor the memory of this man.

As he stood, Arien spoke in the hopes that the spirit could still hear him. "If I have a son," he spoke, "I will name him Jal."

Kilgim looked over Alloryn, “There is little that I can do for her Arien. Just like with Shona, the demon that possessed her has worn out the body and injured her soul. She is strong, she will recover but we need to get her back to Freegate. She needs a better priest than I.” The dwarf sighed and grasped Arien’s shoulder lightly in friendship, “We’ll build a litter to carry her home”

Char fires at the fleeing Mantis Warrior astride its dragonfly. Both arrows find their mark in the belly of the mount. This causes the creature to slow, desperately trying to stay aloft with its rider.

Adrian is able to catch up with the slowed beast and attacks the Thri-kreen. The Mantis Warrior is skilled at fighting and flying, and manages to deflect the blows away before delivering a deep cut across Adrian’s belly. The mage is staggered by the blow and wavers in his flight.

Char continues to fire and one of his arrows strikes deep enough to kill the dragonfly. The mount spirals out of control to the earth. The lone mantis attempts to leap off for safety but there is only so much its legs and body can handle at it dies upon the impact with the ground.

Adrian has only enough strength left to make it to the ground before loss of blood causes him to lose consciousness.

Kilgim was on his feet and moving towards Adrian before he hit the ground. The cleric wasn’t about to lose another companion on this day and when he reached the battle-mage, he was ready with a healing spell to stop the bleeding and restore health to the young man. Adrian’s eyes flutter with consciousness within moments.

The battle now over, the party is left with the scene of misfortune. Jal’s body will have to be dealt with, the rubble of the tower will have to be searched for clues to what was going on here. All would have to be done with some haste, as Alloryn needed to be brought back to Freegate as soon as possible.

It is Dapple who notices something is missing first. “Where’s the commander’s body?” the rogue questions out loud. As the others look, where the body of the commander was, is now vacant. There is still the blood stain, and bits and pieces of charred flesh and grey matter – but no body. It is as is he just vanished.

Cue eerie x-files type music
OOC: There is enough healing potions and cleric spells to heal you all back to full health. I can finish off this campaign with a big “woof” moment, but wanted to let you finished off the area before I do – there are a few finds to make. There will be no more attacks, no zombie Dalmer, or killer insects or dragons – the night will pass to dawn shortly and uneventfully.

As the last arrow struck home, Char furthered the creature's demise by shooting daggers from his eyes at its falling corpse. Only when Adrian fell as well did Char instinctively start forward, Arien's warning to stay close by echoing in his ears. There was sound logic in that warning, but Char wasn't used to leaving comrades-in-arms alone to face dangers when he had the where-with-all to do something about it.

Knocking another arrow, the ranger padded along in a jog beside the dwarven war-priest, his eyes surveying the land about for signs of any trouble, his ears seemingly reaching out and snatching every sound. He remained ever alert as he stood over his friend in his administering to the ex-Imperial, particularly eyeballing the fallen thri-kreen and dragonfly mount. Only upon witnessing the fluttering eyelids of the recovering wizard did Char cautiously approach the dead enemy, searching them over for any indication of where they came from, and what their alliances were.

Spitting on the corpse of the thri-kreen, Char completed his search and returned to Kilgrim and Adrian's side, and in due order, Arien, Alloryn, and Dapple where he placed the arrow back in the quiver, slung his bow, and separated himself from the sibling's reunion by searching the ground where the green-armed man had fallen for any sign of tracks.

(OOC: should there be time, he'll also help search through the rubble, the surrounding area for additional tracks, indications of what the story was there, and anything of import to place back in the king's hands at Freegate. As far as Jal's funeral preparations/resolution, Char will remain aloof. He won't disrespect the man's sacrifice, but he wasn't exactly fond of him, and will leave the body's fate to Arien's discretion.)

As the clean up of the battle site and the foraging for anything of any use began Maximus did his part in silence. His anger gone all that was left was the pain of loss, the loss of what up to this point had been his best friend.

Not just a best friend, my first friend Maximus thought to himself very sarcastically. The Ex-gladiator had longed for release from the pits so that he could be his own man and have friends but if the friends he was to make died was a life free from the arena really that much different?.

For now he would help the others as best as he could, help them reach Freegate safely. After that maybe a life in the pits as a free fighter was not so bad of an idea less friends that way.
OOC: Yeah I know short post not really much for Maximus to do right now but morn Jal.