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It had been an unfathomably trying couple of months for the Skarr.  Far below the surface, in their great dens, the Skaven triad assembled together under the greatest feat their kind had ever achieved--the sprawling city of Nesthome. Under the brave and uncharacteristic will of their regent, the exalted King-King, centuries of civil conflict, ages of family feuds and civil wars had finally been forcibly put to rest. Weapons were laid down; warfare and unrest was quelled. Though they didn't have the proper word for it, for the first time in the existence of their race, the Skaven knew peace. This peace did, in fact, stretch on for years to come. War was segued out in favor of a strong sense of community. Families flourished, the arts slowly began to develop, and weapons of war ultimately became hunting tools. King-King, somehow, managed to strike a chord with all of his subjects, inspiring a turn for the better in an attempt to reverse the fate of the war-like vermin. If they had many of them, the Skaven scholars may even have wondered exactly what kind of deity he'd struck a deal with to make this all possible. Alas, whether you practice it or not, war is inevitable. With the boiling tensions upon the surface world growing to an uncontrollable high, and civil war threatening to break out across Terrenus, the demand for resources grew ever more pressing. Mines grew deeper and deeper, punching through the stone and clay and dirt effortlessly until the mines themselves grew so deep that they shifted and trembled. The shuffling ceiling over their heads meant more than the blockage of tunnels, however. It all happened over the course of one day, when the sky fell down upon Nesthome. Stalactites crumbled and dropped upon the city, impaling the streets and buildings the Skaven had so tenderly erected in their new home. Men and women and children were crushed by falling debris--artwork, history record and statues of the Skaven's holy deity were obliterated within the span of a single day.  They had no way of stopping the collapse, no way of preserving their home. In the frenzied panic that had befallen them all, they looked to King-King for reassurance. Their noble, wise leader was the voice of reason, the voice of guidance.  They needed him. Now, in the dark, cold depths of their refuge, King-King stared into the empty darkness that surrounded them. Beady eyes caught the light of the scant few torches in the chamber, located near the doorways. The shaggy, furred figures of the Skaven, shifted and stepped around, and King-King counted them quickly, with great dismay. They only numbered in the hundreds, now. When the Skarr had lived within Nesthome, they had numbered in the hundreds of thousands, perhaps even in the millions, and that only accounted for one of the three groups that consisted of the Skaven Triad living within the city. Now, they were but a fraction of a fraction of the group that had come to this hellish place. It wasn't nearly as dire a situation as King-King had feared; in the quivvering dark of their makeshift den, a few of the denmothers still lived on. Almost all of the denmothers who had fled Nesthome were still alive, in fact, as they had no reason to come to the surface. Their tenders, the skaven males and females that were responsible for feeding, protecting and delivering, did all the moving about for them, and were the more likely candidates to be harassed, or misplaced. This meant that should all else fail, the Skaven could retreat, and the Denmothers could help the group repopulate. However, King-King did not want to retreat.  Under his rule, the Skaven had survived for decades without bloodshed. Their kin had died peacefully, and had been reused as food and supplies after a brief opportunity to mourn. Since they had come to these woods, however, everything the Skaven held in value under King-King's command was being desecrated. They were hounded mercilessly by the magic of these woods, pursued without hesitation by the vile monsters living within the underbrush, and hunted by... King-King shuddered in righteous anger. They were being hunted by these...savages, living in the woods. They'd ran in fear at first, these curious things. They'd see the Skaven clearing the trees, or digging their holes, and would sprint seemingly from nowhere, like flighty spirits. Then, they would come and threaten the Skaven. King-King had received reports from all around, of these things berating his followers as they just did their best to survive. Alien shouting and physical threats, aiming at keeping the Skaven belowground.  Then, the first casualties were discovered.  King-King could hardly believe it when they'd first heard the announcements. The natives of this forest had  jumped some of the Skaven above ground, and kept them from reentering their dens. They'd jabbed and struck the scouts and woodworkers brutally until they could no longer defend themselves. They'd butchered the Skaven as if they were animals. They hadn't even had a chance to mourn their dead. They were watching him now, waiting for him to make a call. King-King felt his anger melt down into dread, then boil rapidly back into anger all over again. He'd worked incredibly hard to bring peace to his people, to see his vision completed at long last and usher in the chance to have the Skaven span across the underneath of the world as they knew it. Now...after all of his efforts, after every time he'd identified and destroyed the end-bringer, after every time he covered up an attempt on his life, his people were damned to run and hide, after suffering a massacre the likes of which they hadn't seen for several hundred years. He wouldn't be able to take this sitting down. His people needed him to act as their leader. They needed him to do as he'd done when he united the Triad to begin with. He sighed mightily, a terrible rasping noise.  "The Skarr. Go to War-War." "War-war." One of the Skaven whispered, in hushed awe. "War-war." Another repeated louder. "War-war. War-war. War-war."  War.

A strategy was already worked out in Rai’s mind - shoot an ice bullet at the griffin, freeze the water on him and root him to the spot, before pummeling him with magicked bullets. That ought to prevent him from pulling out another shield. Alas, Tharr was already prepared for his next move when Rai was still finding her balance. Even her quick reflexes couldn’t save her from the long rod that appeared out of nowhere, and struck its target as intended. While impressive in appearance, its strength was surprisingly low - until Rai attempted to raise her arm to shoot at Tharr, and found out that she couldn’t. She stared at the shimmering purple particles in momentary confusion, then hurriedly backpeddled away from the charging beast, while trying to shake feeling back into her arms. However, the human couldn’t hope to match the Aerasginero’s raw speed.

Maira stopped in her tracks as Xerxes was practically beaten up by the land. She winced, then sheathed her sword, moving away as fast as her shadows could carry her. Quietly, she shifted her focus. Buford. She tilted her head, trying to come up with a strategy as she walked towards Marigold. "While what you did hurt people, you can redeem yourself. It was this mist. This land. It does something to a person. It exploits their fears and it toys with them. It makes you angry. And more afraid than you will ever be in your life. Do you want forgiveness?" Her expression was stern.  The Colonel's face was determined. There was a faint glow that she would have never noticed in her eyes before. "I am not going to tell you to move on and forget. I am telling you to move on and live with it because it happened and it's a part of you. Plus, until we figure out whether we fight or we find a way out, we are stuck together." Maira looked at her arm once more, thinking that she should at least make a sling or something. She removed her jacket and started to fiddle with it. "Anyway, if you really want forgiveness, Doc, you stay with us and help us. Or Gaia help my sword strike true..." She stared at him for a moment in silence.  Then she continued to try to fashion a sling out of her jacket. "Apparently, we have an extra dimensional being. No big deal. This isn't my first rodeo." As she turned, she spoke. Maira sighed softly as shadows formed around her, trying to help her as she walked. They licked at her body, travelling through her, surrounding her with an aura almost. "Come on, Doc Danger and Pally Paladin!" The Colonel remembered to keep her distance from Alexa and averted her gaze towards her target. Without a word, she moved, unsheathing her blade once more. The motion was slow and deliberate.  "All that suffering..." She muttered. 

Kalmuli raised an eyebrow. She was being calm about this, which was fine but at the same time being loud at the same time was needed. She sat back. "Maybe you should put her on the front lines...she might learn what it's like."She said, getting up from the table and going back to the section she saw on the healing remedies Illyana had been searching for. "I was in your shoes many years ago Illyana. My father was a war prince amongst the elven kingdoms of my home. Sullying his name several times had my mother whipped until she went mad and then took it out on myself. She turned to the dark arts to try to get stronger but it swallowed her up and took her life giving birth to my younger brother." Kalmuli opened the book she picked out, flipping through it absentmindedly. "Believe me. I've been in both your shoes."She said, bringing the book over and placing it in front of Illyana. It was a guide on doing sutures and protecting against infections. "Pretty sure if I knew how to do something like this thousands of years ago, I could have saved her...but I was about...mm...Five or six in your human years when it happened. A child."She said, walking around the two women, her black robe swaying around her.  "Instead of reprimanding the Uldwar name for the atrocities committed in someone else's name. Of course, had it not been done you wouldn't be here now as Lady Cassandra has said. Use it to fix the damage that has been done." Kalmuli would pull up a third chair and sat between the two. Reaching over, she took each of their hands and held them. "Both of you know that. if Lord Uldwar wants to fix the damage that has been done, you two need to come together and help. Illyana...I can see you're bright. Reminds me of when I was still in dresses at marriage age. I think I was a little bit younger than you when I got married for the first time."She commented. "But privilege can also be used to do good things for the people you're trying to help. You've done that with healing using remedies that any man would die for the honor of having...but what if there could be more people like that who could heal?" Kalmuli sat back. "I plan on Ingrid teaching healers. Not to mention, that it will teach anyone willing to attend the school to read and write. To till the land, fish the seas...but unless there are role models, no one will be willing to try."She sighed. "Which is why it's important for the Lords and Ladies of the house to attend along side the common folk. If you have the formal training yourselves, I insist you become grammar teachers and work on teaching the local children in town. Children will teach their parents and you'll have all of the island up to speed." She got up and roughly patted both women's shoulders like they were men. "Lord Uldwar and Ingrid can't be doing all the work...It's time the Ladies of the Uldwar house did something other than sissy slap each other and point fingers. If you want to change the perspective of the people, you have to be willing to put in the work that previous generations didn't care for."

Meredith was a Small country mouse. She had garnered attention down south for her lively and often profound articles at the local paper. This is how she had come to know Erdias Drew, the big-shot newspaper exec who'd read her article about the pleasantries the winter Season brought with it in Lisa, her small hometown. Meredith had never dreamed of writing for anything larger than the local tabloid. Her mother and husband had encouraged her to leave, to travel the world and make money on a dream. Her long trip west was wearing her down and so on the third day of traveling, when she found the Corner Cafe, she hopped in thankful for the well-deserved pit stop.  " It's Beautiful..." she whispered pressing the carpet bag with the broken hinge against her stomach.  The luxuries of the cafe,  the frilled curtains and the round pillows strewn about casually, were unlike anything Lisa provided. Even if it could, nobody there would have the imagination to decorate like this.  Meredith caught whiff of blackberry jam. It made her stomach growl and her whispers twitch. " I don't usually indulge, but I've been traveling so long,'' she said noting the worn out bandages around her feet and the overgrown claws. "So if you don't mind," she said matter-of-factly, to the girl on the register " I would like a cup of coffee with lots of cream and lots of sugar." she smelled the raspberries "And a raspberry Danish."