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Two if by Sea (Last Chance Raid)

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Location: Beach

Character: Feurerkönig 

Allies: Legion of Doom

Enemies: Terran Defenders

Objective: Kill some stuff

If it wasn't such an amusing game to him, Feurerkönig wouldn't have cared enough to evade the attacks of the desperate soldier. Try as they might, its pathetic weapons couldn't shoot down every individual blade under his control. Now he had the added enjoyment of proving yet another hero a fool, slaying defenders despite their best efforts.

The Kriegssoldats who survived were celebrating in the confines of their transport. Beating on their chest plates, whooping and hollering in their Germanic language, even playfully smacking each other on the flank. They had every reason to cheer, for even though this was a tactical loss, no one could say Feurerkönig was not dangerous. Everyone, including the Legion, stood witness as he cut down scores of enemies and now would live to do so once again. 

Truly it was a shame he was approaching the range at which he would no longer hear their delicious screams. Soon he would also lose the ability to keep manipulating the weapons, but that was acceptable. Of all the weapons in the air, only around thirty percent were shot down, the rest still finding new homes in the fleshy sheathes that filled the beach. 

This was only the beginning...

Edited by Grubbistch

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Character: Reginald

Allies: @Bureku @Zashiii

Enemies: @jaistlyn @spacegy4

Objective: Escape!

Reginald could hardly believe it! He was a human, yet he possessed an indomitable will. Quite the man he was. The wizard weaving arcane energy in his hands as Delistair struggled in the runic trap. Arcane had certainly advanced over the ages! Such strong, mobile casters. 

Perhaps he had been underestimating this human; to be able to cast a spell under such painful circumstances was impressive, and another to do so with a powerful anti magic field. 'Magic is like chess...' He would remark in a past that felt so long ago. Each spell they cast and move they made like pieces on a board. 

And his opponent had the checkmate

"My goose has been cooked..." He muttered as his spell fizzled out; the space around them shrinking and becoming dangerously small. Delistair unfortunately pulling too much into this spell and causing his consciousness to fade. The spell soon shattering like glass and fizzling into flecks of energy.

His hooded form looking toward the open sky, seeing the shadow of Hana over Delistair. The human was good, but he had been spent. The spell sapping everything from him; This ally of his was most courageous, coming in to rescue her friend. Reginald giving a bow, the field enclosing around him lost in the wake of Hana' escape and his exhaustion.

"A good show old sport. Till we meet again! 

He said with a tear opening up behind him as he took his leave; vanishing into the shimmering purple field. Another portal opening up before break and Khaki, giving them a chance at escape. Reginald' portal winking away like star in the day. The prisoner gone.


Edited by Djinn&Juice

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Character: Delistair Paige

Affiliation: Terran military

Objective: Tried to stop prisoner from escaping [failed]

Allies: @spacegy4, @amenities

Enemies: @Djinn&Juice, @Zashiii, @Bureku, @Dredge

(Tagging more people than usual for notification of combat resolution)


It must work. It will work. Reginald looked around and saw no way out of his predicament. Delistair forced himself to keep going, even as pain and weakness wracked him. Unfortunately, there was only so much he could take from himself before his body gave out. Coughs bubbled from his throat, wet and red with blood. Dimly cursing his mortal flesh, Del toppled over onto the ground, his hold over the magic abruptly cut off, causing the shield to break into tiny pieces that shimmered in the light, then faded away. 

Each breath Del took burned with agony. Every inch of his body hurt. Closing his eyes, he welcomed the cooling darkness that threatened to overwhelm him..

Hang in there. I'm getting you out!

Del knew that voice. He knew how she had projected the message into his head. He knew how inexperienced she was about magic. He also knew that her mechs and planes wouldn’t fit into the small space of the prison cell. 

No, Hana, the enemy’s a magic user..!. He tried to transmit the message back, hoping that she would hear it. She would be at a severe disadvantage going up against the wizard alone. Surely Hana would be smart enough to lead a whole squadron of soldiers here, right?

He struggled to stay conscious, but it was a battle lost.


Something warm and comforting was pressed up against him. He was adrift, far away, the aches and pains that battered his body seemingly belonging to another person. What had he been doing? He struggled to recall.

Suddenly, everything came back to him. Hana. She was coming for him, but she might be ill-prepared to handle Reginald. She was in danger, and he had to protect her. He jolted awake. Hana was already here somehow, her arms wrapped around him. There was blood everywhere on her, and she wasn’t moving. Alarmed, he attempted to rise, but gasped as excruciating pain shocked him, almost sending him back into oblivion. Through hazy vision, he realized that it was his own blood that bathed her. Relief and resignation washed over him. Did he screw himself up that badly? He stared at the disconcerting amount of blood in delirious fascination. He was going to die from blood loss soon if the bleeding wasn’t stopped.

Hands on him, hands that pulled Hana away from him. Del grasped at Hana, thinking that the enemy had gotten to them. No, leave her out of this! Not hearing anything that might have been said to reassure him, it took a moment of panicking before Del realized that the hands were here to help, not harm. The Cougar had done its job and brought them to the medical personnel. The soldier had failed in stopping the prisoner from escaping, but at least they were safe, at the present. They would live to fight another day. Finally, Delistair allowed himself to sink into a long, deep sleep.


Edited by jaistlyn

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Character Name: The Black Spear cartel

Affiliation: Legion of Doom? 

Location/Objective: The Lady's Ghost Ship now renamed (Sea Through)

Allies: Legion?

Enemies: Terran defenders?

The man stood at the ship's prow, his solitary eye looking down on the aftermath of the invasion. The gaping hole where his other eye should have been was now covered with a dark leather eye patch which was unable to cover the large gash left by the removal operation. His pose was imposing, broad shoulders squared, his hands resting on the pommel of the sword thrust to the deck before him. He maintained that position for a few more moments, like the lonely hero he presumed to be. But the cartel are far from heroes. Right now they are the villains. Terrorists. Invaders. But Middy will strive to fix that. Now that the man has the power to do so as the cartel's fate now rests on his shoulders, a burden he deemed heavy but at the same time necessary.

"Congratulations, Middy. The cartel is now officially yours. Should I call you the Black Head now? Or Lord Black Eye?"

The man cocked his head at the speaker's words. Without even looking back he answered, his voice tinged with anger, "Auntie, I took over for all our sakes. No need to ridicule me regarding this decision. This has been long overdue. I lead the cartel now, Black Teddy. And besides, mother has given me her blessing."

He could hear the woman gasp behind him, her shocked reaction brought a frown to Middy's lips. The gaping hole of his eye twitched as his gaze fixed on the other ship beside him. There she was, the Lady Blackhead herself, Middy's flesh and blood mother. There she sat on Dredge's boat, cradling the broken form of the terror in her lap, her tears of worry trickled all over her lover's cracked armor. It was a ridiculous and pointless scene that Midian could no longer bear to look at it.

"My dear lad, did you just acknowledge the Lady? This is quite the news. The cartel needs to celebrate," the woman named Black Teddy spoke after a while.

Without even looking at her, Middy could already imagine that coy smile plastered on her face. Black Teddy was his aunt after all and she knew that the old version of Middy will never acknowledge his parentage. But he had changed now, and with this changes the cartel must follow suit, if they are to survive. 

"Oi! What kind of shit just happened? Did Middy just grow balls? The fuck is happening?"

The appearance of a new voice brought a new wave of headache to Middy's brain. Auntie Sera's grating voice and her uncouth manner of speaking has always been annoying to him and even now it still is. Not to mention that both Black Teddy and Black Sera are quite close and tend to have excruciating conversations that he did not want to hear.

"Oh Sera, Sera! Did you hear Middy is now head of the cartel?"

"That little shit? No fucking way! That boy can't even grow a pair now he's leading us? I call that bullshit!"

"It was truly distressing. I fear he might lead our cartel astray. On a second thought, did you get a new haircut Sera? I do love that afro look. So chic."


"None taken, I feel bad to see that poor chap go. But Black Sera, think about it. We are only accomplices to terrorism! The cartel is simply defending themselves from enemy attacks while accomplishing our objectives. I say it was a stroke of genius. Even a dumb broad like you had no trouble understanding the implications of this."


A new surge of pain assaulted Middy's head as his two aunts grappled each other as part of their endless series of catfights behind him, their snarls and hisses making him cringe in embarrassment. Soon he can hear tearing sounds behind him, forcing him unable to turn towards the struggling pair unless they have returned to their quarters. He'd rather not see his two aunts with their clothes torn and sprawled almost naked on the ship's deck.

"If you two have are down fighting, please escort our guest, Sir Reginald to the spare quarters. For some dumb unknown reason, Little Sans just won't climb down his back. Get that jailbait off the sorcerer's behind! Gods! The godforsaken wizard is made of worms already. Adding that loli hag only worsens Reginald's image! And keep him entertained the whole trip! I swear if you two can't stop fighting for a full day, I will kick your sorry asses overboard!" Middy growled in annoyance. With a snap of his fingers, their ghost ship sailed on its own, leaving the beach of Last Chance and the cartel's losses behind them.

@Djinn&Juice @Dredge @Bureku

(Black Spear cartel leaves the field of battle.)
(Losses: Shethid- graduated from the cartel,
           Sera's hair - forever afro
           : Khakina - location unkwon, last seen eloping with Break.
           : Middy - innocence lost
           : Lady Blackbush - lost her status as leader of the cartel
           : Little Sans - lost all reason, won't let go of Reginald
           : Black Teddy and Black Sera - lost patience, still catfighting)




Edited by Zashiii

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Character Name: James Eredas

Affiliation: The Order of Force Majeure

Location/Objective: Beach/First Line of Defense

Allies: @amenities @Twitterpated @Aleksei @Tenkai Matsumoto Terrenus Military and Allies

Enemies: @Grubbistch @Zashiii @Frostbinder @roboblu @Dredge Legion of Doom


In the face of continued and constant assault, the Mirror Force spell held up, repelling back blades onto the last stragglers that the Legion may have had on the beach. It may have been enough for at least the soldiers he was looking after, if the overcast sky did not suddenly darken and grow heavy with the sounds of thunder.

James cursed. So the enemy was able to cast a spell akin to Mass Thunderstorm were they? The Order and Enforcer forces under his command were completely safeguarded under the massive shield of the Mirror Force, with even nearby Terrenus troops taking shelter under its protective umbrella as well, but they were unable to advance during the hailstorm of weapons. With the advent of the severe Force Storm, James was forced to give the order for them all to fall back and seek cover.

Instead he alone would hold his ground. As the sword storm and thus, Mirror Force faded, the Daemonslayer brought the nodachi Amaterasu up around his head, held up high into the sky, a lone figure on a beach marred by battle and blood who called the attention of the lightning and fury to focus on him. Trails of electricity crackled up the dunes near him, carving fresh blackened marks into the sand. Each strike drew closer, and the one stray thought that stood out the most in his mind as the thunder boomed upon him was:

"This is by far the stupidest thing I've done, this year"

"Hit me!" James roared his challenge, and the first flash of lightning obliged, striking the outstretched artifact sword as though it were a lightning rod. The unnatural and deadly electricity arced upon the sun-kissed blade in vicious quantity, before he swung the blade to the side and discharged it harmlessly into the sand to his side. James would have to bring the weapon back up again in time to absorb the next lightning strike in his location. Even as thunderbolts rained down upon the rest of the lines, the Daemonslayer held back the strikes upon his position in truly indomitable fashion.

Three times lightning struck.

Three times Amaterasu withstood each strike, and the Demon Phoenix Fist redirected each current so it would harm no one else.

Each strike still bled a portion of their fury though the sword however and into James himself. Each shock left his muscles more wearied and pained then the last. On the fourth, and final thunderous strike, the Master Knight seemed to hold himself upright with sheer willpower, sparks dancing off the blade, across his armor, and into his flesh. Any other man might have been long felled or turned to ashes, but he was no other man. With a last reverberating battle-cry, the Daemonslayer wretched his blade around and stabbed it into the ground, discharging the final blast of lightning into the earth, leaving its scorched mark on the battlefield for all to witness.

Left amidst the smoking dunes and the blasted blackened pits of sand, James would stand, leaning upon his sword for support. No longer casting any illusions from his mask, all that was left was the visage of a man underneath that porcelain white guise. There were some in the world whom would scoff and say, "Just a man? Merely a mortal?"


To they, the Demon Phoenix Fist would only reply with his truth:

No Gods or Kings, Only Man.

Edited by Fierach

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Character Name: Agony / Dolor Aeternum

Affiliation: Abaddon Triumvirate

Location: Docks and then outta here hopefully

Allies: None

Enemies: None…yet

The bombastic affairs taking place before him didn’t produce any semblance of entertainment in Agony’s eyes. Agony’s guise stood tall among the throngs of people that bowled over themselves to escape the fury of Fuererkroenig and the unbridled power display of Dredge but all this sentient being noticed was a desperate attempt to flee from the burgeoning might of Terric opposition. Any affiliation with this organization of misfits would likely turn out to be more of a failure than having trusted Nines and the whelp that controlled the Anima Imperium. Agony’s robed appearance covered the mimicry of skin that Obtenebra controlled masterfully though it remained dark in nature. The black skin could be seen from within the hood that was worn, several markings inscribed along flesh and a distinct crimson gaze piercing through as Agony was intent on watching this scene unfold to the end. There was much to garner from witnessing the oppressive force the Terric military wielded.


From the litany of mechanical contraptions at their disposal to the sheer ferocity of their magical talents, Agony silently wished he could have experienced their might against the tenacity of Obtenebra but such a gluttonous mindset would not serve him well in the end. The guise of the towering female seemed to be ultimately ignored by the scurrying denizens of Last Chance escaping the horrors brought to them by the Legion. The comfort of ultimately being ignored and not scrutinized by a watchful eye finished rapidly, however, as soon as the approach of the newly promoted corporal was sensed and their surveillance was evinced by her demanding question.


“Attention. Who are you?”


Agony’s guise resembled someone he had traveled with not too long ago in Yh’mi and the voice that was chosen to respond to the corporal was equally as annoying as hers had been too. Imbued with an inspiration given by the females that had travelled with him then, Agony shot up as if startled by the corporal’s approach before responding in an animated way.  “Oh! I am sorry. I just cannot believe that this is all happening here in Last Chance! So many people dead! It is just…..awful." Crimson eyes squinted at the corporal, thick tendrils emerging that looked very much like hair as Agony’s body shifted to look at the military member. The towering frame might have seemed imposing but the demeanor presented was anything but. “Forgive my manners. My name is Solara. I was sent by a knight named Dolor to look for someone here in Last Chance but I sure picked the wrong time to come. I didn’t mean to concern all of you military folks with my involvement but I couldn’t just stand here and do nothing. ” The tones of the voice Agony offered were high pitched but seemed earnest enough. Agony idly wondered what Lunara would think of this façade. Unfortunately Agony had little time to deal with getting apprehended for questioning by the military so a quick pivot was offered before some words were delivered again.


“I will just follow these people back and leave you to protect their retreat unless you need me for anything else.”


A smile was offered as Agony removed the hood to reveal a dark-skinned visage that was clearly feminine in appearance though not soft in delivery. Starting to walk away slowly despite the chaos of individuals running past in horror, Agony would slowly begin leaving. There was no reason to provoke the military any further…at least not today.

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Character Name: Ramsey Robicheaux
Affiliation: Terran Military
Assist the severely wounded - Evacuate - Rescue Protect Shanti!
Allies: @Aleksei @amenities @Fierach
Enemies: His ouchies


The adrenaline's gone. 


And like the past, everything from before comes back to haunt him. 

There's a yell of pain that escapes him, a tense curling at his finger's tips. It eventually trailed off into a suffering 'ha, ha' and then into a vulgar curse. Not only did the top of his head pounded louder than a sledgehammer, but there was all sorts of pain rippling off of his body. His neck, his back, his rib cage and his crack. He squirmed in pools of his own pain, curling into a ball with Shanti in his arms.

Those were all minor injuries, though. There was a vital spot in his body that absorbed the bone-breaking crash, something even his vest wasn't able to prevent. Bruises and rashes aside, a rib has popped. If he inhaled, he could feel the rib suck in - if he exhaled, he could feel it pop out. This immense discomfort and suffering limited his breathing, taking in shallow and desperate gasps to avoid that feeling of his own bone poking at what he could believe was his lung

Air sucks in sharply through his teeth, his furrow forever wrinkling in torture. Even if the minor pains eventually receded like the red tide, everything else kept fluttering like bloody butterflies with a little shimmy of a limb. He can't move in this state, can't even think. Just a few more seconds and he'll - 


But there is a sweet voice in his own flaming tartarus. 


He looks down. A drop of red stains this stranger's face, the blood coming from his wildly bleeding nostril that trickled off his chin. It takes him a moment to fully register what she's said, a stern ebony glare staring back down with an exhausted squint. Huh.

. . .

She's prett-

".. Yeah-"

A horrid cramp in his foot cuts him off, "No," he hisses, a free hand going out to stretch that foot while his other trembled behind Shanti's back. It passes in a couple of seconds, a heavy chest gradually easing into a contented sigh - but he hissed again, because he's forgotten about the bone in his rib cage. The free hand hastily unbuckles his vest to get a chance to breathe, weak wrist shaking and fingers fidgeting all the while. 


"Uh," He took gasps in short gusts of air, uncomfortably breathing in and out. Shanti seemed to be in a hurry - forcing herself to sit up, but knocked back down again. "The.. beach. I'm Ram." He says, barely. But she's in shock, as she turned her head to the battlefield. 

".. And I'm gonna get you outta here." 

He's not sure if the elf even heard him, in her state she could've fainted in his hold. Her tight fist on his jacket moved by the way he tried to catch his breath, eventually getting up on his feet and lifted her with him once the blue shield above them crumbled like glowing glass. But he stumbles a tad. No, it was not his legs, or the dizziness that struck him like a drunk arrow - it was the monster behind them, the slain beast falling into the charred sands with a loud thud. This doesn't deter him from walking away, though. Suck it in, he tells himself. Get that champagne-

Behind them, as they walk into a safer distance, their savior catches up to them and asks them;

"How the hell did you two get out here?"


His head tilts, a blank stare was his answer. It seemed that the guy regret asking them that, judging by the look on his face. When he asks them another question, a question stupider than the first, the private just continues to glare at the man with his grumpy old resting face. The doctor almost looked offended when he and his men mistook him for a civilian, like the woman in his arms. His jaw shifted to the side as he grit his molars against each other. Sure, he's a medic - but goddammit he was in the military. Yes, he knows that doctors don't need military training but he doesn't need to be evacuated, goddammit - he's in the uniform, god - DAMMIT-

"I need cover - taking this woman to the tents." Robicheaux nodded to him, a gesture of respect and gratitude despite what his attitude implies. He always looked angry, anyway. Whatever his answer was, he turns on his heel, headed in the direction of the medical tents. And when he does, a few men accompany him, along with -

"Kyle." The young man would have stopped in his heavy steps, if it weren't for an injured soldier draped on his back. 

"Er, doc-" 

"I want my alcohol."

He nodded with a lump in his throat. When Private Robicheaux gets to the tents, he's probably going to bother the other medics because he broke a rib.

From above, thunder punishes the Terran Military's forces and their mages. 

He needs a break.

[ The good doctor (and Kyle) leave to the medical tents with Shanti.]

Character Name: Ares Shezmu
Affiliation: Himself
Location/Objective: Prison | He just wants to get out
Allies: Murderers and one-eyed bastards
Enemies: Literally everything else

A bullet ripped him a new one right through his leg. The fleshy hole in his calf was so big that you can see the other side right through it. Obviously, the guy fell to his knees, yelling in absolute torture as the pain sent signals through his body faster than the bullets that flew at him. He found a temporary cover behind a concrete wall, helped by a stranger who freed him of his metal prison. Blood gushing and adrenaline pumping, he thought of his wife - his granddaughter, how they'd done them so horribly wrong-


"Jerry get your shit together, ya big BABY-" 

Ares's hand was not a good one to be slapped by. It was all bone - except his bones were made like metal, cushioned very slightly by a leather glove that hid the atrocity. The man before him was a filthy no-good like everyone else here in the cells of Last Chance - but he cowered, whimpering like a dog before the force of guns and shields. His appearance was sad, sure, getting emotional in the middle of a breakout, (and the fact that his leg is absolutely screwed) but judging by the situation they had right now, Ares had no time to be all depresso. 


"I don't care about your DAMN-" A bullet rips right past his ear, making the kid wildly throw his head downwards to avoid any more gunfire. And the gunfire continues and continues, until he's left to hold his ears from getting himself deaf. Jerry's dead now, caught by a bullet to the torso. Ares scoffed while he is to hide behind a corner, cruelly leaving Jerry behind for the soldiers to claim. It's cold, sure, but he's always had a habit of saving himself

When the gunfire stops, it is only for a while. Cold sweat is trickling off his temple now, a heavy weight in his chest that begged him to pant silently. Step, step, step. They are nearing closer, his mind yells at him, while he reaches for a handkerchief in his pant's pocket. There is a grimace forming with furrowed brows, a disappointed look directed right at himself.



I can't believe I'm doing this.

A soldier swiftly turns on his heel to point and shoot at the corner, but they are met with a boy with white hair, a teenager who stood out strangely from the rest of the inmates here. Well, what can he say? He's handsome- 

"WAIT WAIT - WAIT!" Stupidly, he's waving the handkerchief in the air as he kneeled on the floor. His eyes are sealed shut as he did so, the action questioned by the group of soldiers who pointed at the guy with slippery fingers tugging eagerly at their triggers. A silent pause is held between them. When the silence keeps lingering, however, Ares opened his eyes to see the military staring right back at him. He forces a grin back down into his lips, clearly thanking Gaia that worked.

However, his joy is cut short.

"Don't shoot-!"

. . .


"Sorry kid," A hoarse voice responds him. He swore he heard the guy chuckle.

 "Orders are or-"

If they could see it, the flurry that sliced gashes through their vests were a barrage of swipes coming from his boned tail. It had no skin or flesh, just the raw skeleton that danced it's way through their bodies. Ares was dancing, too. In a way. Like the boys on the street who spun wildly and broke down hard on the floor with a sick beat. You know, breakdancing. Except it was breakdancing with blood and guts, the three soldiers who were initially glaring down at the guy were now staring in different directions - eyes open as their bodies laid there.

He jumped himself back up, dried blood stained by the fresh blood, whipping the red off his spinal tail. 

Surprised that it worked, Ares even cracked a big smile. 

Until he went out with a -


[ Ares is shot in the back of the head and dumped in the body dumpsters outside of the prison of Last Chance. When they are to be transferred on a truck, his own corpse is nowhere to be seen. ]

Edited by SweetCyanide

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Character Name: Maira Pembroke
Affiliation: Terran Military
Fortify the wall
Allies: Terrenus military
Enemies: The Away Team

Maira chewed upon her lower lip as she helped the dwarves and others work on the wall. The wall was coming along fine, but the repairs were temporary. Golems lined the wall where Maira had instructed them to. A small vial of a sparkling liquid twirled its way in front of her on a chain. The vial itself was still sealed, but she knew that the contents of the vial was to only be used in emergencies. This raid, while intensely dangerous, was not an emergency right now. She tucked it back into the layers of her uniform. Her right hand man, Judical, stared at her for a moment, then continued on building another type of fortification with the team of dwarves and humans. Maira's hand rose towards the sand of the beach near where the tiny mechs had unleashed havoc upon one of their commanders. The sand began to move on its own, gathering at a single point. That point expanded to become a blob.

Appendages shot out of the blob, moving downwards as the blob propelled itself upwards. The form was large, ten feet tall, similar in size to the rubble golems Maira had made earlier. The blob stood on four legs, forming a head that looked somewhat canine in appearance. Maira smiled, not paying particular attention to the gathering clouds. The form's head appeared to move as though it were howling, but no sound other than a rush of air emitted from the creature. She admired her work before Judical grabbed her arm. "Look!" He motioned upwards as the clouds gathered even more menacingly.

The Colonel looked up and her mouth opened slightly. "Bullshit." She said under her breath. "Watch out!" She extended her hand out towards her crew that was working on the wall. A large ball of shadow leapt from her exposed palm. A gem swirling with purple fog shot out an inky barrier towards the crew. The barrier extended outwards, surrounding her crew in the safety of a darkened bubble. They would not see out of the barrier and she could not see them inside. Lightning struck the wall, but it was relatively chaotic. The wall was very much fortified by her golems, but she was not. As a bolt of lighting struck near her, Maira handed control of her body towards the forces of gravity. She was launched into the air from the blast, moving off the wall. The woman's communicator was still on, and her initial cry of surprise was followed by silence as she fell into the dense sand of the golem she had just created.

The golem deposited her onto the ground before it went still. The barrier dissipated, allowing her crew to see her unconscious body. Judical ran onto the shoulder and climbed down to help his colonel. The fae was nimble as he moved towards her. "Take a look at what happened!" He yelled back up at the wall as he fell to his knees by his commander's side. He took out the vial from her uniform and cracked it. "I know this is an awful time, Highness, but we got ourselves a situation." He said, as he lifted the cork from the vial and pressed the glass container to his forehead. He thought about who he was going to summon. He thought about it for a very long time. The clouds had subsided. He checked over the colonel. She was still breathing.

"I wish I could help the Colonel. She's hurt!" Judical yelled.


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