2963/WoS: Cold War

WoS: Cold War
Date of Scene:	04 September 2015
Location:	Galianda
Synopsis:	The Ramuh/Shivan War has been in a stalemate for nearly two months. Border skirmishes have yet to blossom into a decisive victory, and the Ramuhan army holds the line against the Shivan Confederacy. Blood soaks the snow of Shiva as a war that should've been short becomes a war of attrition. Harald Wolf-Lord knows he is losing. He turns to his advisors with a plan forged of desperation, heresy, and brutality.
Cast of Characters:	Staren, 560, 596, 626, 627, 633, 642, 652, 666, Lyria Mason, Starbound Flotilla, 675, 821, 823, 833
Tinyplot:	Warlords of Shiva

Landon al Cid (642) has posed:
     SHIVA

     The frigid, icy hellhole of Shiva runs red with blood. On one side of the vast imaginary line in the snow, the organized, artful military of Ramuh stands, tanks, guns, jets, walkers, and other powerful magical military weapons bristling to fire upon the Shivan forces. On the other, the Shivans, aided by amoral mercenaries, extradimensional assistance, and their own brutal forces, grind against the Iron Wall without much success. On both sides, the death toll is the largest in centuries of Galiandan conflict, marking the first official large-scale war in a very long time.

     And the Shivans are losing.

     Harald Wolf-Lord is Displeased. His shouts of anger and desperation ring through the Citadel of Ice as he reaches deep into the folds of Necessity and draws forth a terrible invention, an invention no Hume should ever have conjured forth.

     It starts as Phoenix vanishes around the world, leaving this part of Galianda in its uncertain night. The lights spread across Ramuh, shining lines blazing off into the sky. The people in the domes lose power. The vast armies of Ramuh stutter for an instant as the flow of power on Shiva diverts itself, forcibly, away from the army. A constellation of magical force blazes away at the center of the continent, across from the Ramuhan lines.

     Chanting - tinged with an existential dread - wafts its way across the silent, snow-forged plains as the light pours forth. For those near enough to see it, it is like daytime has etched itself across the snowfields.

     Like daytime...like a constellation of daylight...

     Landon al Cid, Prince of Ramuh, watches from behind the front lines. He has sent out a call - as soon as the lights began to shine - for allies. For aid. For...something.

     He has a bad feeling about this.

     "I need a strike team," Landon orders those who have come to help, "I need someone to find out what madness they've brought to Shiva, as soon as possible. My soldiers must hold the line, lest their forces catch us unawares as we attempt to counter them."

     The white-haired Prince casts his eyes out at the shining light. "Find out Harald Wolf-Lord would unleash, that could bring Phoenix's shine to Shiva in the middle of the night."

Kyra Hyral (626) has posed:
    For the matter of the ongoing campaign on the ground, brought to the situation now, Kyra had not been part of the engagements since the Dome City had fallen to Shivan forces. Leave it to the professional military, right? But add Landon physically being there, behind the walls, personally asking for help and Kyra's calculus on participation changes just a little.

    "What the hell is /that/?" Kyra asks shortly after arriving, beholding the unnatural light coloring the battlefield. Unnatural, of course, in that it wasn't Phoenix causing it as Phoenix intended. No explanation is forthcoming but just looking at it made Kyra squirm on the inside in was that was...familiar, though she couldn't place it at the moment.

    The white mage, having clearly expected to be supporting heavy fighting such as last time, came kitted with her usual loadout of gear. CURE-ALL on her back, hunting rifle meant to deliver her potion-filled darts at a distance, extra guns at her hip and under the shoulder holster, various flasks strapped to her belt-it all was there in all of it's heavy, slightly clanky glory. So when Landon mentions needing a strike team to seek out Harald, she swallows just a little. "I'm not so great with the stealth but I can support everyone, either way. If we have to punch through something, I'll have everyone's back."

Xiao Li Yu (823) has posed:
     There was some chatter on the radio, and in time, Xiao had arrived. She wasn't particularly well equipped. It seems like she just walked right out of her lab and made her way straight here. No armor, no fancy clothing. Just her typical green cheongsam, arms folded into her sleeves in her usual manner. "Oh my. Seeing truly is believing, isn't it?" The researcher mumbled as she slowed to a stop by Landon and Kyra.

     Silence fell for a few seconds and her golden eyes observed the phenomenon in the distance. And then she opened her mouth again. "...And they call /me/ crazy." Xiao mumbled, a faint hint of amusement in her tone. What followed was a vague shrug. "Well. The only logical course of action here would be to see what's going on and put a swift stop to it." She tilted her head aside slightly, observing the light a bit longer. "...Whatever that fool is doing, it can't be good for anyone." She rolled her eyes.

     "War certainly makes people do interesting things."

Emiya Shirou (560) has posed:
    Emiya Shirou really hates wars like this. He's not entirely sure what they're fighting about, but the death tool is getting insane and while he absolutely hates getting violent against people he'd like to save...

    Sometimes you have to sacrifice a few to save many more.

    The wisdom of Emiya Kiritsugu reverberates in his head, but the boy grits his teeth. Hopefully it will not come to that. No, he will do everything he can to NOT go that path. If the SHivans have summoned an abomination, then perhaps destroying it and banishing it will break their spirit and trigger a surrender!

    ...All other things aside though, he's here because his Union allies are, allies he won't let fight alone. If there's something he can do to aid in this fight, he will do it.

    So, all bundled up in his winter clothing (and doubtless with a little armor under it) he stands near Kyra, ready to play tank if the healer needs it. "Are they summoning some kind of superweapon?!" he asks Kyra, wondering if she can shine a bit more light on this bizarre happening.

    But at the same time, he mutters, "Trace on," under his breath. Magical power flows through his circuits and flesh, and his inner forge is also churning out a design in preparation...

Audrey Stormfist (652) has posed:
    A tank rolls up from behind the Ramuhan lines.

    The GROSSPANZER is a very large tank, about five times the height of a warrior. Its front has a steamroller covered in large spikes, its treads are also spiked for traction and on the sides if it were in a pursuit and needed to side-ram a vehicle, and the top half is basically just a one very large cannon, protected by a number of Shell, Protect and Wall Spell Matrices to prevent people from just firing inside the cannon. The dark blue vehicle is painted in KIRIN colors, and Audrey is standing on one of the smaller cannons on the vehicle's side, holding with one hand onto a handlebar on the side of the large cannon.

    They'd been meaning to field this thing anyway, give Ramuh some support. They paid better, and besides Souji has interest in stopping the Wolf-Lord now that he's evidently gone full crazy.

    As ever, a sheathed gunblade hangs from Audrey's waist, the Heritor wearing her dark blue, reinforced overcoat. She shoots a glare at Kyra, shrugging. "I should think none of us knows what is happening. Despite him hiring the Zaibatsu briefly, he did not communicate his plans to us."

Staren has posed:
 Somehow, Staren has always been busy elsewhere whenever help was needed in the Shivan conflict, except for that first battle where the dome fell. Today, though, he shows up to help with the fight, the Star Hawk flying through the air in fighter mode and transforming to take its place approaching the Ramuhan line...

 ...And it turns out something /bigger/ is going on.

 "Woah. Now /that/ is a /neat trick/." Staren watches his screens. Unfortunately, he is not a wizard, and his magic sensors are not particularly refined. /Something/ is going on, but /what/? He wonders if he can get better magic sensors from Murasame Industries. He'll have to look into that later. For now, though...

 The 40-foot tall war machine looks to Landon and nods its head a few times, an oddly hume motion. <> It turns to look at the distant lights again. <<Just like old times.>>

Lyria Mason has posed:
Lyria Mason had been asked to come along with others and she was actually wearing more than she normally does. She was wearing cold weather ger but the sort a Geomancer would with a number of touches that reflect she's a machinest as well. It seems she's got osme ideas of what's needed. Her drones are with her and Landon would also find for what it's worth several security details from Serpent Tail Shipping have joined the Prices forces after a supply dropoff. This is serious and Lyria's Mother knows it.

"My Prince? I'm here with everything my family could spare."

She looks over to Shirou for a moment as he seems to be getting ready and there are many others here gathering here she looks from one ot the other as she makes ready here.

Starbound Flotilla has posed:
 The Starbound Flotilla is here, but they mostly aren't going to be listening to orders from Landon al Cid. Instead, they default to their own leader, Souji. And the bossman seems to have given them orders to go disrupt that tremendous Pattern building over Shiva. That's why the Ramuh military forces are joined by the arrival of a tremendous space flotilla. Six massive ships suddenly jump into the space above, and begin tearing ass towards the building pattern.

 The SFS Vehemence is an ultramodern white craft, a heavy weapons platform that leads the other five. Just behind it, the SFS Abdication -- a miniature house-sized castle-looking spaceship with a large sensor array -- and the SFS Kaleidoscope -- four other ships welded together, lashed with vines, and given a heavy railgun -- slip in as well, and beyond them, the trio of the SFS Rapacity, a pyramid-styled craft bristling with strange red gems, the SFS Mendacity, a modern, chunky durasteel industrial craft, and the SFS Connoisseur, a light blue fish-styled sleek spaSeft. Scans."
"Affirming. Yes sir."
"I'm on scouting."
"To disrupt this, we must first understand it. I shall join."
"We hunt big magic. Floran hasss biggessst gun. Shoot giant magic."
"Once ye know where to shoot, weedy. I'll scout on ahead too."

 The Rapacity, the Connoisseur, and the Mendacity break forward, heading off to go SCOUT the constellation-like pattern, seeking its origin points or similar. The Abdication immediately begins powering its sensor array. Since psionic data-gathering has historically detected magic pretty well, they're already at work on trying to analyze the pattern and seek its origin and safe weak points. The Kaleidoscope and the Vehemence stay behind, waiting in reserve.

 Any of the Murasame-Zaibatsu-allied folks were offered a free ride, of course, and may catch a ride on any of the six ships in relative comfort.

Archer (821) has posed:
    And this was he got for complaining.

    He'd complained, privately of course, that his missions thus far had constantly taken unexpected turns for the worse... so of course he would end up sent to a place that, by chance, happened to be another land flooded with treacherous dangers. However, at least Hyrule had held a moderate climate - whereas this place was a frozen tundra.

    As a spirit, the cold would not affect him, but it didn't exactly make for an encouraging local to fight in - if one of the land's supposedly-abrubt snowstorms hit, he'd have to compensate for visibility and wind-sheer that native opponents might be used to.

    Seeing as there was an active war in this particular world, said possibility was even higher. Therefore, he had to keep alert for any eventualities.

     Astralizing atop one of the small hills stride from the group, his black bow already in hand, the form of Archer stares at the conflict impassively. The red cloak flapping slightly behind him helps make him more visible to his nearby allies behind him, a spot of crimson standing out against the show-covered landscape.

    So far, Rin seemed focused on sending him to places in conflict to try and equalize the situation - settle the chaos and such. Something he was used to doing as a Counter-Guardian... not that he was particularly happy to be seeing war-zones again.

    But at the very least, it was better then being sent into them blindly as Alaya would have... and at least it would largely remain constrained to actual combatants.

    Though it wasn't like they couldn't get dragged down into it anyway. As was so typical when people fought for such comparatively petty reasons as the ownership of land and power - reasons so commonplace that Archer had long given up on trying to fix it. There would never be any point to it

     However, at the same time, something about that odd light makes Archer wince. The level of power it puts out is immense.

    And, like much he has seen so far... vaguely reminiscent of something he had already faced. Once again, it seemed an opportunistic fool would draw even from madness to take what he wanted... regardless of the danger.

     Hearing Kyra speak, Archer gives his own response, though doesn't turn to face her - "I wouldn't worry about that. Given the situation, stealth likely won't last long. And chances are that if Shiva's leader is willing to go this far, it can't end in anything else but bloodshed. One way or the other."

Mirielle Edelweiss (666) has posed:
    Gathering at the frontline of a battlefield always seems to be exceptionally poor planning in most standard situations. That's what forward observers are for, and advanced remote-seeing magics. Command posts were much more the speed of Calculator Mirielle Edelweiss.

    That was before the power went out. Before the magic - the power - of a whole plate became rerouted towards a single point. A brazen foci of magic, and the soft susurations and dread of many casters. Something dire was being done. The highest of heresies.

    Dressed in thick winter clothes and bearing the insignia of the Academy, Mirielle looks past the front line, then back at the 'recon in force' team established. "What they are doing is... not simply against the natural order, but may be a grand conjury the likes of which have never been seen or done before. The data is rather clear."

    Her dire look is accented by a brief pushing-up of her glasses up her nose. "What, precisely, his forces are conjuring I cannot tell, but it sounds of Summoning - and not of any Divine I recognize. ... And he is doing it without the use of actual Summoners. Or, at least, divided among many with moderate talent. He /must/ be stopped."

O'Mont're Tyr (833) has posed:
Things coming from the sky have rarely brought anything but ill tidings to the Ramuhan forces. In this singular case, the very opposite is true. This time, the things coming from the sky bring welcome relief.

And, depending on how long a point of view you possess, a certain amount of low-level dread.

The first ship to break atmosphere above Shiva vaguely resembles the body of a whale with four box-like engines attached two to a side. It's been painted in arctic camouflage, and if it's armed, isn't obvious what with. It comes down /behind/ the forces from Ramuh, descending towards the ground and firing its thrusters to slow down as it nears it. It doesn't look like it's intending to /land/...

The belly opens smoothly, and from the bottom, humanoid shapes fall. Three drop first, twice the height of a man, firing back-mounted jets and smoothly landing on their feet in the oft-traversed snow. Their torsos are bulkier and stick out in the middle, angled up and down from the chest; the arms and legs, though covered in flat armor plating, seem slightly smaller and move more easily than their size suggests. From a distance, it looks like they only have a singular eye on the squared head, and some sort of communications vane back-swept from the sides like ears or fins.

The Crisis Suits start jetting their way across the field towards the gathering strike force. Two are in arctic camo slashed with dark green; the third has a stark white head and a dark green and grey body, adorned with what looks like ornamental gold leaf, some sort of prayer strips and a very prominent two-headed eagle clutching a wreath and skull on the chest. One arm is some sort of giant cannon; the other ends in a four-fingered hand, with some other sort of built-in weapon affixed to the forearm behind the actual hand.

The last suit to drop is twice the size of /those/. One arm is dominated by some kind of multi-barreled high-tech cannon; the other with what seems to be an enormous shield bearing some sort of circular emblem. The shoulders are either enormous thrusters, heavy weapons, or a mix of the two. All around it, objects bearing the same comm-fins as the Crisis Suits but appearing to be thick, ambulatory dinner plates hover, scattering and scanning the environs.

The overly-ornamented lead Crisis Suit transmits, with the voice of Commander Deathgaze, "We have arrived. The rest of the cadre will reinforce your position where it is necessary and join us once we have properly identified the target. I hope this is sufficient for the task at hand."

'Rest of.' 'Sufficient.'

Zwei (596) has posed:
It's been a while since Zwei has been around Galianda. Physically at least. The Armiger monitors a lot of multiversal media at once over a great many worlds, but the last the Armiger had set foot on one of its plates was some time ago. The Convergence of Arms is sitting well outside of orbit, rather than entering the atmosphere like the other spaceships present. The sub unit Asche is what descends manually, having plenty of time to get a good bird's eye view of the topographical lightshow playing out across the continent.

It's not especially flashy when he shows up, simply the distant rumble of something deccelerating back under the sound barrier and the steadily glowing flare of thrusters. He doesn't seem intent on joining the gathering at the frontlines, keeping to the air and leaving voicework to the radio. "This is far from the condition this place was when I left it. News does not give justice to how swiftly it has changed."

/*As if that's a surprise?*/
//It's something different to see it personally.//
/*I could have checked at any time you know.*/
//But what would that accomplish?//

Landon al Cid (642) has posed:
     There's silence as Landon looks across the field of Elites assembles. Deathgaze's army, Staren's giant robot, the ships of the Flotilla, the weapons of both Shirou and Archer...what they were launching, what they were wielding...no wonder Harald had turned to such an action. No wonder Harald had gotten nervous, even with Confederate support. Archer isn't wrong - this conflict was written in blood the moment the Multiverse joined in.

     Desperate times, desperate measures.

     If only...

     No, there is no If Only. There is only Now, and what was coming. Landon's frown deepens. "You need to hurry. Save them from what they're about to do. The backlash of their Summoning would drive them all insane."

     The group departs the camp by foot, by air, by ship, or by whatever means necessary. Broken swords and axes mark their path, lodged in the buried bodies of Ramuhan soldiers. Here and there, the black marks of an explosive shell or the burned corpse of someone struck with overwhelming magical power peek forth from fresh-fallen snow. The snow subsumes and drowns everything, swallows everything, consumes everything. It is as if the war is already over, and only the aftermath remains.

     Nothing could be further from the truth.

     As the group closes, by ship and by vehicle and by foot, the massive light grows brighter. Soon, it is literally like standing in the daytime. The chanting, edged with terror, grows louder and more recognizable, and now anyone with an ear can pick out the fear-soaked prayer.

     The words are strange to the ear. But the name rings out like fire as power pulses and surges, and with each recitation the magic builds.

     PHOENIX

     The forces of Shiva have pulled back, clustering around these glowing lines with determination.

     Perhaps for them this is something holy, something great, something glorious that will mark their names forever in history. Or perhaps this is terror, the terror of failure, driving them to reach depths they never knew were possible. Or perhaps the trembling of their once-stalwart tattooed knees and the shaking of their snipers' hands is because they understand what it is they defend, and what they are about to unleash, and how it can never, ever, be put back into the bottle.

     Wyvern-riders, wyvern-morphs, and snow-beast masters prowl the air and the ground like jet fights and tanks. Gunners are doubtlessly hidden in the snow, with old-model sniper rifles waiting to catch unawares anyone who tries to attack.

     Along those lines are the Summoners. They are arranged in a great formation, chanting hurriedly and worriedly to the skies. Men whose duty is obviously to hurt them if they stop standing in each group, weapons at the ready. In the center of the great formation...

     He stands, massive, like a towering figure out of legend. His beard, his hair, his eyes - they suggest a cunning, a lupine intellect, and a brutality forged and hardened by this frozen land. He wields no weapons, but his body is so massive as to suggest that it *is* a weapon. And, set into a glove in his right hand is a pulsing crystal of unknown, but assuredly magical, nature.

     HARALD WOLF-LORD has taken the field.

Souji Murasame (627) has posed:
The Great Pattern surging with ever-growing power continues to build across the landscape. The lines are visible to the naked eye, such is the amount of Magic Particles running through the area. Surveying the land from the air or a useful elevation reveals that the complicated Pattern consists of three gathering points where Summoners proceed with their work, all feeding into the central ritual area.

SKOR WYVERN-FANG commands the first, screeching through the skies with a fleet of scaled monsters at the command of his Beastmaster's Bell.

ULGRIM DARK-EYE awaits near another, providing fire support from the most distant site, along with his crack squad of Cannoneers and Engineer snipers.

HEILA THE WAR-WIND, however, does not shrink from combat. The heavily-armored Fighter woman awaits your charge at the closest site with a massive two-handed blade.

The Shivans are prepared for you to try to stop them.

Come get them, if you dare.

Cirra Constantine (675) has posed:
    The curious thing to those approaching the sight of the summoning is that there are *already* weapons littered on the ground. Landon al Cid doesn't need to ask, or command his right hand to move on this threat, she does it as if it were natural as breathing.

    Steel and fur clad she moves through enemy forces like hte howling wind, cutting them down with crystaline sword and denying them the field through Law Cards.

    The sight of the Wolf's Head banner reflects in the red visor of her Judge's helmet, like how she sees it in memory. Red tinted in flames as her home, a Dome city burned, leaving her to fend for herself until she was rescued by the master of the al Cid house.

    There's only one thing that will satisfy the blood spilt in Cirra Constantine's life. Justice at the end of a blade.

    "Harald Wolf-Lord!" she appraches the center of the summoning, her sword snapping open to convert into a rifle, firing shards of crystal for the massive bulwark of a man even as a fist backhands one of his underlings.

O'Mont're Tyr (833) has posed:
The Tau forces move forward with the strike team. The Orca keeps pace some distance back; the Riptide and the Crisis Suits travel in long leaps and bounds, moving with a smooth, humanoid gait and leaping from point to point, propelled by their built-in thruster packs. The two less-ornate Crisis Suits follow the gold and gaudy one, leading the spearhead --

-- right up until they reach the point where they can actually /see/ what's happening, that is.

Then, just as smoothly as they had accelerated, they come to a stop. The battlesuits take up positions on a rise nearby, the sensors inside giving their pilots (wearers?) an excellent view of the fighting. This, Tyr thinks, is not an ideal place for his tactical specialty. Fortunately, they are fighting what appears to be a more primitive force.

Shock and awe, he thinks, and sends a quick message to the rearmost suit.

The Riptide steps forward. It crouches along the line of the rise, raising its right arm -- the tremendous cannon, replacing anything that might have once been a hand. It levels it at the center of the formation, still far in the distance, well outside spell or arrow-shot by any but the most legendary of warriors.

The Ion Accelerator's twin barrels glow deep within the weapon. Bracing pylons deploy from the feet of the tremendous war machine, anchoring it in place as the charge builds. The hum reaches a peak, shaking packed snow into loose powder and slowly pushing it away from it.

It fires, and the beam is bright and intense enough to be white. The center of the ensuing blast, one used to annihilate heavy tanks and vaporize bunkers, is focused on the most obvious and valuable target:

Harald himself.

Cut off the head, they say...

Audrey Stormfist (652) has posed:
    Things had certainly taken a turn for the worst. Audrey frowns; the build up of energy and the prayers can't be mistake now. Mirielle seems to think the summoning would kill the summoners, or just drive them insane, but what would become of the firebird then? Loose to rampage? Dismissed? Best not find out, the Heritor surmises.

    She bangs three times on the side of the GROSSPANZER's cannon, and it begins a straight line charge towards HARALD's position, with Audrey still atop it. Can the tank survive hits from the WOLF-LORD? Ha. Hahaha. Hahahahaha. Yeah no it's probably absolutely fucked, and so are the poor magitech engineers inside it. That's fine, though. Audrey just wants to cross 'blades' with the Wolf-Lord, and the tank will get her there faster than walking or running. Also it has a giant cannon and a spiked steamroller up front.

    It should prevent Harald's forces from making too impenetrable a blockade to reach him, if he has them do such at all.

    The cannon starts firing at the Shivan frontlines, sending powerful bursts of Fire-2 and Bolt-2 alike towards the forces behind Harald, while the vehicle makes its beeline for the giant of a man himself.

Lyria Mason has posed:
Lyria Mason knew just how serious it was when the Wolf Lord himself gets on the tactical comm she does listen. She's now got a better idea, of why he's doing what he has. She's got some idea about it now, it's a fear her own people have had, they always been a powerful force of trade and that has prevented certain things from not happening on the Plate. The worst part is? She sees how things could have happened differently but it's too late for that.

She's going to end this war if only to stop the snow from being drenched in blood. She has a friend from Shivan who only survived because her mother aided her family in escaping the Plate and it's harsh conditions.

She keeps moving with Landons force putting her pistols to use where needed, and her Geomancy as well to support the party as they move. The snow is everywhere it as it always is here. The snow consumes all but the war is not over. She hears something she's not sure but it's time to fight she opens fire with both pistols as she moves in following up Cirra's lead as she joins the battle in earnest now.

The Magically charged shots ring out and her drones enraged, Remoa almost is swimming through the snow and will attempt to erupt in the enemy lines and deploy the ice spiders as it bursts out into the enemy's ranks.

Kyra Hyral (626) has posed:
    "I have to agree." Kyra says to Archer as she watches additional support arrive-between the Flotilla, Tau, and Staren's giant robot, any subtlety was just thrown out the window. "I'm completely okay with this too."

    Weathering the glare from Audrey as if it happens every day (it does) she takes the lack of knowledge on what's happening with stride, until Mirielle does shed some light on the situation, "None of that sounds good." Kyra holds up a hand, waving her fingers at the distortion. A simple Libra would show something more detailed as far as location goes but that's not even needed, she realizes. She can see where the magic particles are going.

    "There-" Kyra points to the summoning site commanded by ULGRIM DARK-EYE. "I'm going to go there. Looks like he's got some artillery and I know a thing or two about that. Especially for tanking it."

    Kyra sets off, murmuring the incantation for Protect under her breath but she doesn't get more than five feet along before her eyes go wide and she chokes out a, "-no! Why-why is it-?! ARGH! Stand back!" She warns everyone within her immediate vicinity, thrusting a wildly glowing hand to the sky, calling down a blast of lightning around her. "Damnit!" she swears, but keeps running, "Clear out! Clear out! I'm /unstable/! It's the summoning magic!"

    Knowing without some kind of protection she's going to get chewed up by the snipers and cannoners, Kyra tears a vial off of one of her bandoliers and downs it, the Haste drink immediately taking effect and making her a much, much more difficult target.

Emiya Shirou (560) has posed:
    This is utter insanity! It doesn't take long for Shirou to put the pieces together from all of the chatter. "They're summoning the SUN?!" That's absolute CRAZY TALK. He even doubts his own lips for the sounds they just made, so ridiculous is this idea. But there in the distance is the summoning, the warlord.

    Many things have been said already. Some have pierced his mental armor and struck deep at his ideals.

    He wants to save everyone.

    Here are more people he cannot save and instead must destroy. If they surrender, that's great, but if they DON'T...

    Then he's got no choice. Not only that, but...

    A glance is aimed at Kyra Hyral.

    yes, making matters worse, he's on a side in this conflict. Will he give less than his best, trying to save hordes of enemies if it endangers his allies?

    Shirou CHOKES, but he's brought out of this momentary funk at the sound of Kyra yelling and panicking! Her wild magic's striking again?!

    Another one of Shirou's Circuits is activated as a parallel production light, sizzling to life. The patterns of power flowing!

    With a fierce kiai Shirou thoughtlessly VAULTS over to Kyra despite her warnings and takes up a position about ten feet in front of her. With one hand outstretched at the fields of marksman. "Rho..." Pinkish-purple light flickers in his palm... "AIAS!"

    Then explodes outwards like a flower suddenly blooming. A five-layered phantasmal shield of pink light is erected, big enough to cover Shirou and Kyra and some more besides.

    In his other hand...

    Shirou grunts and groans, but a wasteful yet grandiose surge of power flows out into his palm to make real a sword that's far beyond his level. It's no casual projection... he's been spending days on this one. And if it's not ready NOW, well...

    Then, crap.

    A silvery-blue, thick guard and a gleaming silvery-white blade forms from hilt to tip in a few seconds. It's a difficult projection, and far from perfect, but EXCALIBUR GALATINE, the Reborn Sword of Victory, Holy Sword of the Sun's in his right hand. The same storm that's giving Kyra problems seems beneficial to the Holy Blade, which ignites with golden-red sunfire seemingly unbidden!

Staren has posed:
    Staren considers how best to match his giant battle robot against the wolflord's group commanders.

    Why use three concentrated groups instead of a balanced distribution, anyway?

    He supposes they'll find out soon enough.

    Well, time to test some defenses. Staren's thinking about seeing how much of a range advantage he has over the fighters, but his allies have come up with a plan. Yeah, they have a point. The artillery has range and the dragonriders have speed. The fighters are the easiest to help, and will have the hardest time helping others.

    The Star Hawk swerves away from Heila's fighters and towards SKOR'S WYVERNRIDERS, but not /too/ close. Once he's within a couple thousand feet, he pulls up, bombarding them with salvoes of missiles before any allies get too close to them. Some are his favorite giant fireball missiles, but others release more contained explosions at the riders, trying to knock them off, or try to pierce Wyverns' tough hides and kill them.

    Staren's totally expecting to get blasted with magic, or attacked by a coordinated strike from the artillery, or similar attacks being used to strike some of the missiles, but... eh, he and his allies need to see how Harald's forces fight in order to come up with a counter-strategy. Someone has to go first, and waiting only helps Harald's side!

Soan Sagittarius (633) has posed:
     Soan Sagittarius is in a dangerous position. That's what you usually get when you decide it's a /great/ idea to dress up in a snow-covered suit, lumber through the storm, the snow to reach behind the enemy lines. He's 'useless' in the midst of the large battlefield, Soan, The Thief, is not a great soldier even if he can fight very well. No, his talent lies better applied elsewhere. In this case, going ahead of everything to spy on the enemies, trying to sabotage their efforts. In this case... it might be difficult considering they are holding the Summoners are gun point.

     Soan has a plan for this. It might not be a good plan, but it's a plan.

     Soan stalks the shadows, reaching for one of the Summoner groups. They have two timers on this, one being Kyra. The other is them ALL DYING FROM THE WRATH OF PHOENIX being foolishly called down on them. His plan is simple: sabotage the guns of the guards holding the summoners hostage.

     How?

     By replacing their ammunition with nowhere as deadly representations of firepower, foam tiny bullets. Too big for the guns themselves.

     Truly, evil has no bounds.

Xiao Li Yu (823) has posed:
     As they get closer, it becomes obvious what's happening. "Tch...He really is doing it." Xiao mumbled to herself as she waltzed across the battlefield with the others. She wasn't wearing anything winter suitable. Instead, an aura of fire surrounded her form, fending off the immediate cold in a crude manner.

     Her gaze swept the battlefield and soon locked onto ULGRIM's forces in the distance and she smiled. "Well then...time to get to work." She removed her arms from her sleeves, revealing a set of black chrome gauntlets, occasionally pulsing red. The aura of fire surrounding Xiao's body extended, setting her clenched fists aflame.

     Her anklets glowed and she lifted into the air in flight. "...In 3...2...1...now." Suddenly, the researcher crouched low, and then dove forward in a burst of speed, crossing the battlefield through the air. "Firaga." She chanted curtly, causing her aura to grow explosively. "Black Bane." She followed it up with another chant. Darkness swirled about her form, emanating from her heart and causing her to wince slightly.

     Xiao stopped in the air, making herself an obvious target. As she did so, she raised an arm, narrowing her eyes in focus. "Take form..." The combination of Firaga and Black Bane resulted in her aura leaving her and disseminating through the air before her. It split off, forming a multitude of 'phantom' swords. Over five dozen at best, each loaded with explosive power. "...Fire."

     And at her command, the flaming blades burst forward, raining through the sky upon Ulgrim's tactical position with the velocity of fired bullets, each impact causing a small explosion once it made contact with any sort of surface.

Zwei (596) has posed:
In a rare show of legitimate responsibility, Zwei handles the task of switching the compromised channel over to tactical encryption, where it defuses some of the situation and outlines a plan of attack in the background, allowing the assembled Elites to coordinate themselves based on their estimates of their own abilities, being the ones likely to know best. It's relatively basic, but their goal isn't to crush an army, but the specific elimination of individual targets. Keep Harald busy, obtain aerial superiority, suppress his gunners and approach the fighters only when safe, wipe out enough of his screens to obtain clear fire support, and selectively eliminate first the makeshift commisars, and if that fails, follow up by eliminating the summoners themselves. Simple, right?

Zwei knows the tactical applications of its own units very well however, and with the opportunity to shoot straight into a force laid out in a geometric, open air pattern by necessity, the best option is clearly for Asche to take the role of air support. The combat Armiger, somewhere between the two types of tau battlesuit in size, rapidly kicks back up to speed, rocketing upward into the air in a sharp, parabolic curve from low cruise to gain altitude over the wyverns, gravity being at their disadvantage. Not having a sun to place himself against to obscure visual is somewhat disappointing, as his thrusters stick out like an extra star in the unnatural night sky, but it isn't especially long before his position is given away anyways by the fusillade of guided fusion missiles that shriek from the air in sleeting curtains, aiming several redundant warheads at each target to ensure multiple eliminations rather than more widespread light damage. Once he sees a response from them, he'll formulate proper strategy.

Archer (821) has posed:
     Giving a nod to Kyra, Archer glances at the gathering forces, resigned to the belief he already had come with - this was not an affair that would end peacefully.

    No war humans would perpetuate ever did.

     Hearing the order to move out, Archer steps down the hill and strides over to the large war-oriented tank, a single jump carrying him to the near-top. Glancing at "Mind if I join you?" - though the question is somewhat redundant as he has already taken his mount.

    When they reach the site of the chaos, Archer's brow furrows as he sees the ritual being enacted, memories of old drifting back to the surface.

    It was always the same. People always reached for power they couldn't handle when they felt the end justified the means... even if it brought more destruction then harm.

    Listening to the so-called Wolf-Lord over the radio as the latter hijacked their comm frequencies, Archer couldn't deny the elements of truth to his claims that his people would be doomed if they lost - after all, once Shiva fell, it's tribes would inevitably descend back into barbarism. And to avoid that, many would likely continue fighting to their last breaths.

    Maybe that was more merciful then living to see the end of all their hopes.

    As the battle started, Archer's reinforced eyes began to hone in on the gunners hidden amid the field in the distance. His first action would be to return the favor and take out the ranged support...

    Though he does pause a moment to see the sight of the boy forming what could only have been a Holy Sword - degraded as it was - drawn even as Rho Aius was summoned.

    Even Archer had to admit he was surprised.

    Yet... he could not focus on more then taking in the blade's design for now. There was a battle at hand, after all.

    Prana condensing in his right hand, the form of the spiral sword takes shape, lengthening as it is knocked back on the bowstring. The air shifts around him as energy collects at the tip.

     /"I am the bone of my sword."/

    Air pressure shifts and warps at the tip, the power in it tangible as the name is called-

     "Caladbolg!"

    -and the arrow is released, shooting past the rows of enemies to detonate at the back of their lines, an explosion much like a missile impact flattening many of the ranged forces. Bodies and chunks of snow and ice are tossed every which way as a billowing cloud of smoke expands upward.

    Another arrow is traced, the bowman already seeking out his next target.

    It was too late to stop it - it always was. All that could be done now was end it quickly.

Mirielle Edelweiss (666) has posed:
    Mirielle has very hard choices to make. Ones based on morality, on family, on people who she may even know, albeit dimly.

    This is hard, for the bundled up Shady Calculator. On some level, she wants to just turn around and leave, maybe dig a nice hole and hide away. But she couldn't. Even if she 'could', theoretically, quit the field, it wasn't an option to take. Not for her dreams, and not for her friends.

    Phoenix. They're summoning Phoenix, here, to Shiva. Not 'summoned Phoenix', a great Bird of Fire. No, this level of magic, this amount of preparation, of summoners...

    They very well make ready to summon the Sun-Bird itself to be writ large across the sky. Something that cannot ever be allowed to happen.

    And Kyra is going to be doing some very interesting things. Summoning the power of a Divine herself. Mirielle renders those faceless 'others' into data, numbers with attached variables and properties, statistical liklihoods, flowcharts. It's easier that way. She cannot do the same for Kyra.

    And so she runs to Kyra's side, wheezing and crunching her way through the snow. "Protect!" She casts, on herself. "Shell!"

    Reaching Kyra, Mirielle places a hand on her shoulder. "Harnessing the power alone can be taxing. Let me help you - I'll bear some of the strain. Just let loose and trust me to back you up. I've... taken the necessary precautions."

Landon al Cid (642) has posed:
     Cirra, unsurprisingly, is first to fall into the group. The Law Cards of a Judge are a powerful weapon, one exclusive to the Ramuhan forces, and Cirra is an excellent Judge in her own right. She defends herself as easily as she carves through the Shivan warriors, slashing open one of the Morphers before he can even change. He falls, midway-through the building of his external armor, a spray of blood splashing out across the winter snow as ranks close around him. Harald, the massive figure of a man, emerges from his own ranks and brings his fist down on Cirra like a hammer. And it *is* like a hammer. Around him rises red steam, the red steam of a Berserker. His fist, whether it hits Cirra or not, blows away snow in a single blow, sending it upwards like a blast from artillery.

     "I know of you, Constantine. Dog of Ramuh," He brings another mighty fist down into the snow, blasting it upwards and into her face, "You warm the Prince's bed, the rumors say. You sold out your whole continent for a boy barely old enough to shave! But that isn't surprising, is it? You were born under the Ramuhan yoke from the very beginning, weren't you? You could run strong with us, but instead you kill your own! Shiva has no need of you, Judge - go back to-"

     Speaking of Artillery Fire, that's when O'Mont're Tyr's artillery shell hits the ground directly behind him. Had he still been standing there, he might've been blown to bits.

     Fortunately for Harald, he's simply flung forward, overshooting Cirra massively. He lands on all fours, as if it's natural to him, and straightens. There's some blood rolling down his back, shrapnel stuck amidst the intricate tribal tattoos. Markerlites rain down around the area, giving Audrey something to target with Bolts and Fires. Her blasts crash and burn against the Shivan defenders, incinerating or electrifying soldiers. The more mobile or powerful of the forces, however, dodge around or shrug off the tank shots, with massive Troll Morphs moving to intercept blasts for the weaker group. Suddenly, two of the Troll Morphers collide with Audrey's tank, moving to shove it to the side and force her out of it. Another Troll bodily grabs the barrel, attempting to jam it upwards into the air.

     Deathgaze's counterattack comes in the form of Wyvern-Riders. They drop explosive payloads - Bombs, actual tamed Bombs, in fact - over Monty's artillery, darting in and out before his guns shred them to bits.

     The Remora drone carves into the front lines. Machinery is something the Shivans only have a little of, and most of it is old and dusty, or kept alive by patchwork and hard work. The few bits of high technology they have aren't like the Drone, which moves effortlessly, dropping ice spiders into the snow. The spiders latch onto Shivans and incapacitate them quickly as Lyria's guns fire forward.

     Harald sweeps his hand outward. "Pawns, all of you! The al Cids will rule this world and you will roll over and *let* them, like dogs! You spill the blood of my people for the foreign conquerors, but the Divines are on our side! Behold!"

     Harald holds up the glove. The Crystal pulses with a brilliant red light. "The Berserker Crystal itself is in my hands! The righteous anger of those who died against the great Enemy fills my veins! Their fury is my own! Their hate is my own! And with it, I cannot be denied! History itself is in my hands!"

     RAGE

     Harald's entire body turns red. He throws back his head and howls, swinging his fists outwards again. The sheer force of his hands is enough to send snow flying like a wave. Being hit by one...

     It's enough to crush metal and shatter Lyria's bullets on impact. You don't want to get hit with one.

Starbound Flotilla has posed:
"Core Fleet, move to annihilate air targets."
"Don't like deployin' the Galactian Project under these circumstances, cap'n. Guess there's no such thing as a good emergency."
"Eh, isss how it hasss to be. We hunt all bad sssky dragon."
"Alert. Marking all targets detected."
"Were it not that nature were turned in favor of this imbalance."
"Gonna be less blowhard hot air dealing with wyverns than getting near Wolf-Lord and those jerks down there, that's for sure. Prepping to deploy the Galactians."

And they form up on Zwei, linking up with Staren too! Looks like the Flotilla group's handling air combat. Each ship begins disgorging an array of small-scale fighters! They're just about person-sized, designed for short-range dog-fighting, and made with the almost 80s-sci-fi aesthetic you'd expect from the Galactic Empire's technologies. But George's, Moonfin's, and especially Pavo's ships are disgorging a dozen of them each, most piloted by hired pilots but Pavo's especially led by the captain herself!

The air-bike-esque crafts blast off and begin launching an opening barrage of homing energy missiles and anti-air strikes against the wyverns! But primarily, they're there to intercept any major counterattacks, especially from the lead rider, forming a screen of multiple formations between Skor and the other Flotilla members.

Audrey Stormfist (652) has posed:
    Joined by Archer, the comparatively much younger teenager girl glances up at the red-clad warrior atop her vehicle, herself holding onto its exterior already. Her eyes catch his magic-- unfortunately for him, overuse and overstatement by Shirou makes her both familiar and envious of the ability to seemingly produce swords out of thin air, though she's surprised to see him pluck the weapon on his bow and fire it like a megaton bomb.

    "Please excuse Constantine. This is her homeworld, and so our riding in on murderous intent must displease her. Granted, she isn't too fun a person to be around normally either," the Heritor explains-- though she personally has no fear of the Judge, half of the Academy certainly seems to, so it must be somewhat founded.

    They never do reach Harald, though.

    "Tch, trolls. They are weak against fire," she explains to her passenger, although it's not long before the Troll Morphs start battering the vehicle, caving its armor plating in, and halting it in its tracks. The barrel is well protected and not so easily bent, but the Grosspanzer is otherwise stopped and not going anywhere.

    Audrey reaches into her pockets, retrieving a long orange spear, its tip shaped like a flame, and from the other pocket a longsword with an ornate orange hilt and blade. Both weapons immediatly burst into flames, with but a small investment of magic on the Heritor's part.

    The spear and blade flourish as they are swung in quick, elegant and skilled flurries, attempting to dismember and painfully skewer (and set on fire) the Troll Morph targetting the Grosspanzer's cannon, and at least two others within immediate reach of the spear if not the sword. "Reroute all MP to the cannon and aim at Harald. Get his attention," she tells the engineers inside.

    The Grosspanzer goes silent for a few seconds, and fires an immense gush of flames towards Harald, even as he claps his hands and causes snow to rise like a tidal wave. Though this diminishes the shot's effects, it'll probably still reach Harald, and at least shield the tank from the ice wave just this once. She doesn't expect it to survive long enough to get a second shot in.

Archer (821) has posed:
    Giving a shrug in response to Audrey's words regarding Constantine's berating of him over the radio, he replies with a simple "I'm hardly bothered by it, though I appreciate the concern."

    Honestly though, he wasn't sure why they needed the undue risk. Summoning 'Phoenix' - what equated to the /sun/ in this world - as a power-source and weapon of war... well, it wasn't quite what he'd expected, but it would not bode well for this world. Or likely any other for that matter. At the same time though, it wasn't entirely shocking - after all, the three great magi-families had created a 'Holy Grail' system to try and reach the root of existence itself... and it had nearly ended with the literal God of All Evil being unleashed. It could never have gone well.

    Therefore, this had to be ended.

    However, that becomes indefinitely more complicated when Harold undergoes a transformation that is almost shockingly familiar to the Red Knight, eyes widening in surprise as he mutters a stunned curse.

    It's almost frightening how similar the man now looks to the Berserker of of the Fifth Grail War - to the Greek hero Heracles, arguably the strongest fighter he could imagine ever facing next to the King of Knights herself.

    Then Archer's attention is directed to the hulking forms that have grabbed Audery's tank, clicking his tongue in agitation. Taking advantage of her advice, Archer glances to her weapons - both of which quickly becoming engraved in the Blade Works - and summoned a replica of her Fire-Sword in one hand, stabbing it straight into the head of one of the trolls currently clutching the side of her tank. That done, he then knocked it back on his bow - still in his other hand - and fired the blade at another one of the lumbering enemies gripping the vehicle, the weapon embedding itself deep into the creature's body.

     "Any ideas?" he yells over his shoulder to Audrey, already preparing to trace new Fire-Swords for close-quarters if any more get near. "We're going to get pinned down at this rate!"

Lyria Mason has posed:
Lyria Mason is getting The Wolf lord is no easy mark, she gets that. She knows they will hafe to deal with his support first. She's not even sure they could take a man like this alive even if they wished to. HE's that much of a fighter and now there's something else going on here. Her drones are doing a good job of disabling the enemy. They don't stop to finish anyone who makes up their mind to stay down and are focusing on active attackers.

Lyria now herself makes up her mind to kick things up a bit when Harald speaks. Shes tares at the crystal she stareds in horror and shock. Could that be what she thinks it is? How is that even possible? It was a myth, it was a bloody myth, a very cool one she heard as a child but it was suyposed to be a myth. She sees her bullets are shattered and well she's going to dance about now a bit. Slamming her feet down into the icy surface of Shiva, sh uses it to form some measure of protection for herself and then sending a barrage og weaponized chucks of ice at the Wolf Lord while the drones contiune to try and thin out his men.

She's also very thankful to have some serious heavy hitters from her world and from off with her right now. Things are just getting crazy.

Souji Murasame (627) has posed:
The Skies of Shiva run red as explosions and flame roll through the area. Staren's mechanical craft launches fireball missiles, causing blasts through the area as seeking missiles scream through the air. Guided fusion warheads rip through the air, threading between the horde of fighters that the Starfloot Flotilla has brought to bear.

Airspace has suddenly become quite crowded. There is nowhere to run and nowhere to hide in the air, only speed, durability, and rampant cheating capable to even the score against the Elite warriors.

Wait, rampant cheating? The fireball missiles slam into hexagonal spheres that surround wyverns, each one of them appearing to have a defensive field of their own. This is put to the test however, as the focused blasts of the fusion missiles punch through along with Staren's more conventional missiles, turning one wyvern and then the next into perforated, miniature stars, flowers of blood and flame opening across the sky, surrounded by streaks of sparks and fire flying from the fighters as they dance in the sky with the wyverns.

In a way, it is beautiful in its brutality.

It seems impossible that the wyverns would be able to last against the bombardment and superior technology that they are faced with, however, as another cluster of fusion munitions scream in for Skor himself, planning to take the leader himself out of the picture.

Ding.

There is a resonant tone from a bell that cuts through the chaos, and the Wyverns look up as one, a shriek rippling through the air as he maneuvers, retaliating with massive wingbeats as one, causing the munitions to strike each other and fratricide. Even then, the fighters get an immediate assault, the Wyvern horde diving into the fighter groups and engaging in furballs with abandon while Skor himself directs with that ringing bell.

Ding.

A pair suddenly break off, flapping their way towards Staren as they attempt to clamp onto his machine and tear pieces off of it. Riding astride them, screaming Shivans hurl Fire and Thunder spells, attempting to shear through his defenses. A Ninja leaps off of their ride, landing on his cockpit and preparing to drive a blade into the canopy.

Zwei, meanwhile, starts getting responses from Skor himself, as he flies through the air and starts striking his bell in the air. Each ringing sound is accompanied by a powerful kinetic pulse that erupts around the Armiger.

Cirra Constantine (675) has posed:
    Cirra was prepared for Harald to be powerfull, the fists he strikes with are first dodged, then blocked with the Judge Blade. The Wolf-Lord's taunts produce only one reaction from her.

    "Heh."

    "Is that the best taunt you have, Harald-Wolf lord? I can't sell out what was taken from when I was eight years old and that /boy/ is a better leader then you!"

    "If you want to learn how to form effective insults, attend highschool. I hear worse whispered around corners."

    But then Harald pulls out the beserker crystal. That shouldn't be possible. Those shouldn't exist, they're stories. Fantasy and fairytale! Cirra' blood runs cold as Harald RAGEs.

    The Snow wave comes flying straight at Cirra, she turns and runs for an ice wall. Not stopping until she puts one foot on it and litterally runs right up the wall. The snow wave slams into it, cracking the surface and forcing Cirra off. She hits the ground with a thunk and rolls, getting back up to her feet. Fortunatly Harald isn't the only one that can self stat-boost.

    Black smoke pours out of Cirra's armor and she rushes forward, the Judge Blade swinging rapidly as she tries to cut through Harald's defenses like a razor edged whirlwind.

O'Mont're Tyr (833) has posed:
Tyr never has been great at allowing people their time to make dramatic speeches, and an enormous particle cannon is a good way to shut them up.

Wyvern-Riders respond by flying overhead, and the battlesuit force is ready. The first two are intercepted by a stuttering burst of plasma-fire from a back-mounted hardpoint on the Riptide; the next several are shot down by the two other Crisis Suits accompanying both Deathgaze and the larger artillery unit.

Unfortunately, that isn't all of them. Fortunately, the Tau don't make battlesuits out of paper mache weighed down with bricks. The Crisis Suits scatter, rocket packs firing as the Riptide raises its shield. The first Bombs that hit the ground go off with predictably explosive results, and the Crisis Suits are little more than battered from the edge of the blast. The pilots land them without a problem.

The Riptide, meanwhile, is surrounded in a briefly-glowing barrier of incandescent blue, projecting a shield that absorbs the blast without issue. It's still rooted to the ground, making it a prime target for the Wyvern-Riders flying bombing runs on it -- except that whenever it drops the shield, it opens up with its anti-air guns, and the two damaged Crisis Suits stick around with it to intercept those Riders before they get that close again.

Deathgaze's own Crisis Suit boosts into the air, lifting its gun-arm. It's moving closer to the enemy forces that Stormfist and Archer are rushing towards, the commander within clearly ready to provide the support he promised. He keeps the tank well ahead of himself, tracking targets on his HUD with experienced ease.

Tyr's Burst Cannon whines as it spins up, and the air suddenly fills with hundreds of buzzing lights that zip into troops wherever they're massed. The projectiles make a distinctive whiz-hum sound multiplied a hundredfold, and the micro-pulses of plasma pull them apart from well outside most of their effective range. It looks like he's planning to keep fighting from well beyond melee range, and judging by the scything motions of the Burst Cannon, he's well-equipped to keep them from getting to him, too.

Souji Murasame (627) has posed:
Elsewhere, Kyra finds herself and Mirielle to be the subject of a fusillade of cannonfire. She might be able to evade it with her Hasted movement, but Mirielle always needs more PE credits. How's she going to handle that? Archer, with his exceptional sight, can see that the Cannoneers are popping out of camoflagued ground positions, firing, and ducking back underground. Are they hiding in tunnels or are they foxholes? Good question.

Luckily, Rho Aias is there to help. Shirou interposes his shield, and the seething translucent barriers allow the blasts to crash into them, deflecting off of them. As dangerous as Cannoneer fire is, it's no Gae Bolg.

    MACHINIST
    SNIPE
    > ARM AIM

A moment later, the sky rips open with a thundercrash, the air splitting as a deadly-looking spike crackles with lightning and punches into Rho Aias, sizzling as it begins ripping through layers of shielding in an attempt to take out the arm holding Excalibur Galatine.

The whirring of the massive railgun opening up steam release ports and emitting steam gives away the position of Ulgrim Dark-Eye, the one-eyed, weathered Shivan looking out at the response in brazen defiance.

Xiao responds with a hurled barrage of blackflame blades, the weapons shearing towards the defensive positions of the enemy sniper and artillery forces when they hit a massive shield as well, the blades ricocheting off of massive hexagonal defensive fields. It brightens as Xiao keeps pushing it, trying to find the limit...

And then Caladbolg hits, responding to Ulgrim in kind. the impact seems almost prosaic as the Noble Phantasm sticks into the wall, sparks flying in all directions... Before there is a loud shattering noise, as if God's own window just had a baseball put through it.

The detonation flares brightly, obscuring sight for several moments as the barrier is torn asunder, rendering the snipers vulnerable to attack. There are shouts and screams as flames race through the area, Xiao's remaining assault pummelling through the entranched positions as they attempt to reposition and zero in on higher priority targets.

Sorry, Shirou, you're not longer the flashy one.

Kyra Hyral (626) has posed:
    Cover. Kyra hesitates to refuse cover under any circumstances. She doesn't tell Shirou to get back or go away, but she will issue warnings: "I cannot heal you with magic, Shirou, and I might hit you by accident! I will not try to buff you but if something goes really wrong-" her voice sounds strained as she wrestles with the current of wild magic flowing through her-dangerous, given the large amounts of MP that the white mage has always carried within her. "-I have backups. But for now I'm...I'm going to-"

    She feels a hand on her shoulder and looks, shaking, to see Mirielle standing beside her. 'Just let loose.' "-yes. I'm going to go with the flow-oh shit, Mirielle, get out of the way!" She'll quickly shove her to the ground as cannon fire erupts on their position, ice and dirt exploding around them with Shirou deflecting the blasts aimed directly at them. The stress intensifies and Mirielle feels the wild magic surge.

    What follows is not summoning magic as Mirielle can tell. What follows feels like black magic, of a kind, but older and with a distinct foul 'feeling' to it that does not match any Divine Mirielle is familiar with. A blue mage on the field might find the magic somewhat familiar.

    BLAZE

    Fire sweeps the battlefield, scorching all in her path, foe and friend alike if they aren't careful enough or resistant enough of the fel magic. Steam is released upwards as the fire vaporizes the ice beneath everyone's feet, threatening to simply expose the foxholes that snipers and cannoneers are hiding in. Beneath, of course, is simply more ice.

Staren has posed:
    Staren attracts a ton of aggro.

    That really frustrating kind too where little units latch onto his machine and start tearing it apart and it's hard for him to attack them. Tooth and claw tear into plating, but it's a /big/ machine. They're going to have to take a lot of bites. Attack magic is more directly effective -- fire superheats and melts large chunks of armor or unidentifiable machine bits, electricity -- magically guided electricity, anyway -- scorches through armor and messes with circuits. There are redundancies in a battle machine, of course, and again, it's a big machine with a lot of damage to take, but he definately can't /ignore/ this.

    Also there's a ninja on the cockpit.

    Staren looks up at him through the transparent material far tougher than plastic or glass. Not that he's sure a ninja sword can't pierce it. "Oh, not /this/ again..." he says, more annoyed than afraid. As long as he can act quickly, anyway. Which he does. Two things now happen: Armor plating begins to extend over the canopy. Staren has cameras to see through anyway. Maybe it'll knock the ninja loose, but it'll at least make it harder to stab through. Second, tiny parts rotate and shift as the arms and legs fold back into the body, and Staren flies /up/. He'll see how well they hang on when he accelerates to mach two and a half. Once he reaches thinner atmosphere, he'll be able to go even faster and they'll have trouble breath--

    Wait, shoot is that even a thing here? Staren doesn't know. Okay, he'll just have to try acrobatic maneuvers instead. Staren accelerates to high speed and starts doing rolls and loops and things to shake them off!

Souji Murasame (627) has posed:
Soan screeps forward into the increasingly agitated front lines, trusting in his Thiefly skills to allow him to evade detection. He slips through the snowdrifts, past hidden tunnels and deadfall traps. His thief senses tell him the entire area is full of them. This area was prepared to receive a charge. Perhaps all of them were, but the attack force had an unexpected lack of groundpounders, it seems. Or rather, they all chose to assault Harald instead. Logical enough, but this leaves Heila looking angry. "COME ON YOU BASTARDS!" She screams, pointing her blade towards the back lines of the attacking forces. "IF THEY WON'T COME TO US, WE'RE GOING TO GO TO THEM! LET'S KILL THE COWARDS!" With a cheer, a large group of Vikings, Berserkers, and Heila herself begins charging forward, leaving their position to go charge the back lines.

That being Archer and Tyr's positions. Yes. they're charging a Servanr and a Crisis Battlesuit with swords, axes, and angry looks.

Meanwhile, Soan begins sabotaging a guard's gun, replacing the bullets with foam pellets that will inevitably jam the weapon. He doesn't even notice.

However, as he moves to the next one, he gets a sudden flash of danger as a hand reaches up from under one of those covered tunnels, grabs his ankle, and drags him down into the tunnels.

There, he sees a flash of a dark mask and the gleam of lights on a blade as the woman attempts to dispatch him with a single strike...

    ASSASSIN
    SUBDUAL ARTS
    > SHADOW STITCH

Or not, as she actually aims to strike the blade into Soan's shadow. Uh oh.

Landon al Cid (642) has posed:
     The Troll Morphers never stand a chance. Archer and Audrey stab into them from mount, with blade, with fire and sword, and they go down rapidly under the Elite assault. It takes a few stabs to make them stop regenerating, but in short order, their constructed Morpher form crumbles and their bodies hit the snow, sizzling and searing. The remaining survivors clear the field as Monty's scything Burst Cannon starts firing, running for what cover they can find in the icy flatlands. They dive behind small lumps of snow or duck behind larger, more durable beasts, which soak the hits and roar with fury.

     Lyria fires ice at the Warlord of Shiva. His fist meets ice, and it shatters, spraying sharp shards along his skin. Blood trails from his cuts. It freezes in an instant, giving his skin a cast of hard red crystals. He brings that frozen-blooded hand around to smash into Lyria, fists that can shatter a train and razor-sharp bloodlets aiming for tender flesh.

     Then he turns to backhand Cirra, as hard as possible, as her blade digs into his arm. It sinks deep, but meets iron-hard bone, the spray of blood again crystallizing in an instant as it meets the icy cold of Shiva. His voice is strange and strong as he speaks.

     "wHelP. I lEaD aS ShIvA DEMANdS! STRONG LIKE IRON!"

     "yOu knoW NOthING oF yOUr HOMELAND!"

     Harald brings his foot upwards.

     BERSERKER TALENT: WILD STOMP Then it smashes down, hard as can be. The Summoners, and the soldiers, and even the *Morphers* shake as Harald's foot comes down. A wave of snow erupts around him - no, a *tidal wave*, threatening to sweep up everyone in its path.

     "I eXpEcT yOU thINK i am OUT OF CONTROL," Harald howls, "BuT I AM IN fuLL coNTroL of MY fuRY!"

     Indeed, there's a Ribbon hanging off his beard.

     RIBBON grants immunity to status effects...!

     "AnD I HAvE NOT yeT BEgUn To FIGHT! GIVE ME LIBERTY, RAMUHAN DOGS, OR GRAnT ME SWifTEST DEATH!"

Starbound Flotilla has posed:
    No more words between the Core Fleet. They're in that mode of combat where they can just coast without speaking to each other meaningfully, working in perfect synch. Staren has enemies on his mech, and Pavo closes in. As he rolls and dives and loops, the bird-woman screeches in. Her own craft is a streamlines, hawkish fighter jet. Staren's going to have to deal with that ninja on his own, but Pavo closes in behind Staren's pursuers. Instead of missiles, she focuses on the heavy mounted cannon, firing pure ballistic fury, giving each a heavy dose intended to shatter their shields hard.

    Meanwhile, the Mendacity and the Connoisseur close in on Skor. While he works his way closer to Zwei, their respective squads start work with cannons as well. His bell might disable their missiles, but hopefully they can strafe him! And those heavy cannons mounted on the tremendous Falcon-class ships should at least drain that defense. Elsewhere, Biteblade begins charging a heavy attack from the Kaleidoscope's massive singular STARHUNTER railgun, while the Vehemence begins disgorging its own array of fighters and ship-mounted anti-air.

    The second wave of Starbounders has now crashed into the battle and brought much, much more dakka to bear, but the hirelings they have handling those spacefighters aren't near as effective as the Starbounders themselves. A few fighters are damaged enough to need to pull back immediately, coming to rest at an ad-hoc repair bay Seft has set up aboard the Abdication.

Emiya Shirou (560) has posed:
    Cannonballs and other shots mean little to Rho Aias, but every impact is reflected slightly back on the user. The great shield is a HUGE prana drain, and as layers begin to falter Shirou flinches a bit. What's he going to do?! There's that drilling spike coming through.

    Then there's another problem. Right behind him. Kyra. His eyes widen as his fighting spirit senses death and disaster. There's no time to hesitate. Not with what he's learned tussling with Sir Bedivere again and again. Emiya Shirou acts with a cool head despite his situation. Xiao needs his help too!

    "Huuuuuoooooaaargh!" The moment Rho Aias's final layer is about to falter and the Snipe's down to the last dregs of its insane momentum Shirou kicks off the ground and DROPS the shield. The boy vaults sideways and forward at incredible speed with his body wrenched around. The shot slices through his side, drawing a spray of blood and shattering a rib-- but there's a clang of SPARKS as the shot impacts and SOMEHOW Emiya SHirou lands on his feet despite hissing in pain. He's off like a SHOT, hunched down and legs pumping in a superhumanly quick stride. The flaming holy sword's still in his grasp and his eyes lock onto the distant targets. Left, right, up and all around, he uses the cover of Archer's Broken Phantasm to approach and take a few moments to parse all of that information. Snipers, he's looking for snipers that are easy pickings... and some not-so-easy! Reinforced Vision crosses the distance in no time at all... "My body... is made of SWORDS!"

    His now-free hand extends out to the side. Weapons shimmer into existence within crackles of Prana around him. A dozen simple rapiers - all the same - FLY like rockets for the spots he lockets. That'll give anyone a good idea of where the Snipers are!

    Meanwhile, Excalibur Galatine pulses and shimmers, the pseudo-sun within its hilt making the blade ignite with a greater and greater power. Some of that's Shirou's prana as he pumps in what he can...

    As he finally gets closer, Shirou begins vaulting up the heights with swift, repeated leaps. It's a bit inelegant, but he's clearly been training for this!

    Those emplacements will be in for it if he nears and finishes charging that thing!

Cirra Constantine (675) has posed:
    Cirra's sword gets stuck in Harald's flesh just long enough to distort her balance and get slamed with the backfist. It sends the Judge skidding backwards throuhtg the slow. One horn of the helmet bent and mangeled from the impact.

    "*I* know nothing of Shiva?" She grabs the edge of her helmet and pulls it off, letting it fall to the sno covered ground, one eye squinting as it begins to swell. She lifts up the Judge Blade in both hands. "I remember the stories of Shiva. The proud people, the ones that strove not just to survive individualy, but the ones that held great fests in halls, the ones robust not just in body but inheart and spirit. The law that said no one could turn down a fellow Hume in the snow, where no traveller could be denied rest and food."

    "What is *your* Shiva Harald?" she asks. "One where brother kills brother, where we all scratch and claw for your scraps, for your recognition so we don't starve?"

    "Your -strength- isn't Shiva's. Shiva was a union of best merits of humenity to survive with *dignity*! Yours is one where we survive by prostrating to *you*!"

    More black smoke, and the Judge explodes into motion, zig-zaging across the snow. The sword snaps open to fire crystal shards at the Beserker with each step she takes.

    But Cirra drops down one to her side, sliding across the snow right under Harald's arms and kicks back up hard enough to launch into the air up to the height of his head. Anyone who knows Cirra knows that she's pouring more black smoke off her body then she ever has before. Pushing herself to the limits.

    One hand grasps for the ribbon, but doesn't pull.

    Cirra uses the leverage of Harald's beard to swing her knee at the man's temple, hitting him hard enough that Behemoth would reel from it.

    Her other leg swings up and over the man's neck, wrapping both of them around his throat from behind and starts squeezing as hard as she can. This is to set up for Soan.

Soan Sagittarius (633) has posed:
     The Work is doing well. Usually, all jobs works out fine until something unexpected comes up.

     Like right now!

     Soan is stopped in his launch, tumbling down unceremoniously, breaking out of his stealth and fall face first into the snow. He felt the danger, sure. He saw it. The problem was reacting to it in time, that Assassin's hand being very quick, coming out of nowhere. "What the--!" Soan lets out, watching the blade come down...

     Into his shadow. He'd have preffered that blade go through his actual chest. It wouldn't have been nearly as MUCH of a problem!

     He tries to crawl away, only to find his Shadow, being stuck in place, does not allow himg to move any further. This is problematic, he finds. He keeps his cool, turning his glance back around to find the sight of the Assassin responsible.

     He sucks in a breath. He can feel the burn of the melting snow on his face as he push himself to a knee. The stabbing will make it difficult to move while his shadow is there on the ground, stuck.

     "Clever." Sagittarius mutters for the hidden Assassin's intentions, reaching into one of his pockets. He can't reach her, she got reach on him... and his shadow is in trouble. Too bad for it, he's going to have to abandon it here and reveal his position. "What's your name, lady?"

     If it's his Shadow that's the problem, then he'll get RID of the shadow.

     Soan takes out a Light Flare in a fast flourish, cracking it open and dropping it as his feet while looking away. A bright, flashing light explodes at his feet, making him VERY obvious while bathing his body in light... destroying the shadow.

     Whenever it works or not, Soan don't give much consideration to that, already fleeting himself away out of this position toward the main one, with the leader of this Rebellion. He hope he's not too late.

Audrey Stormfist (652) has posed:
    "My plan is to destroy the gauntlet," Audrey tells Archer, simply. "If Harald cannot be harmed easily, his armor is a better target. Destroy the gauntlet and the crystal will fall off, and he should no longer be able to draw from it. He may still catch it with his hand, but if he's holding onto it like that, it'll be easier to separate him from it."

    Harald stomps down, and the Heritor knows they need to give up the tank. Oh well. They can make another. Hopping off the vehicle, she takes a stance, before the incoming wall of snow, ice and fury.

    "If you have good armaments available, I would not mind borrowing one or two. I'm afraid what I carry isn't entirely up to par for an opponent like this." It's not that Zaibatsu tech is awful, just that... well, that's potentially a JOB CRYSTAL. Her low-grade magitech weapons aren't going to cause all THAT much damage to the Wolf-Lord, so... might as well take her chances. Maybe Archer won't mind lending her something better, if he's whipping swords out of thin air.

    For first things first, survive the attack.

    The flame sword and spear are overcharged, and Audrey leaps through the incoming tidal wave. She emerges on the other side, bruised, with a layer of frost over her, but her weapons quickly remedy the situation-- now she's just bruised and hurting all over! An improvement.

    The Heritor takes a moment to force her focus back into existence, and then lunges for Harald, coming in to pincer him from the opposite direction Cirra is, thrusting the fire spear, but keeping the sword for defense.

    She... doesn't really have anything dramatic to say.

    Unlike Cirra, she just craves a good fight.

Xiao Li Yu (823) has posed:
     As the rail gun shot pierced through the air, Xiao had to veer off to the side to avoid being in it's direct line of fire. From there, she weaved though the air, avoiding basic cannon fire that she could see.

     Thankfully she was in the middle of the air, so Kyra's Blaze wasn't too much of a concern for her.

     No, the real concern was taking out those snipers. She watched as her initial assault ran up against some kind of barrier and frowned. "...A defensive barrier. Cute." She muttered, eyes sweeping about, looking for any sort of opening.

     That opening came in the form of CALADBOLG punching a hole through the barrier and creating the very chance they needed. She pressed a hand to her ear, speaking into the radio. "Why thank you, Archer. We'll handle the rest." She asked Shirou to pinpoint the sniper's locations, which he did by way of FIRING RAPIERS right towards their general positions.

     "Noted."

     She raised a hand slightly. "Thundaga." Several orbs of electricity formed in the air around Xiao, rotating in a circular formation. There were enough to deal with every sniper that Shirou had pointed out. "Phantom Weapon." She muttered after, reinforcing the electricity with an additional chant. The orbs contracted, turning smaller. About the size of a volleyball. "Magic Amp." A magic circle formed before each orb, passing through them and causing them to fashion into ornate blades.

     "...Fire."

     And in a flash of light, the electrifed swords fired off. Being made of pure lightning, each weapon lanced through the air, curving and veering, like living lightning. Each weapon precisely taking the optimal path in order to ensure the destruction of it's target, not by a flashy show of force, but by a more humble means of simply piercing the body and electrifying harshly.

Soan Sagittarius (633) has posed:
     Soan blazes his way through the battlefield, avoiding crazed berserkers, hungry beats led by said berserkers, outdated tanks and cannon blasts. The light fades after a few moments, allowing him the opportunity to regain some amount of stealth during his movements. Whenever the Assassin is following him does not matter for now -- he's certain he's outrunning her if she is.

     The sight of his target is up ahead, the dangerous might of the Berserker displaying the might of the Original Job Crystal. Can a Job Crystal be EVEN stolen from someone that is using it? If it was, he imagine the War against The Enemy might have been very different. Can he touch it without being hurt by it? Many questions goes through his mind, uncertainity settles in.

     Soan tosses them away. Even in normal situations, trying to think too hard about the what, how and why things are in people's pockets is a recipe to failure. A Thief Steals. They steal by just giving their doubts a rest, their desire to own things that aren't already in their pocket a massive leg up, then just let his little fingers snag what they feel like. Fingers have desires, too, you know.

     Soan pours out of the battle like a stealthy arrow, coming from the sides to launch himself at Harald. There is that brief pause, as he concentrate, lifting his arms into a defensive, ready pose as he apraise his target.

     STEAL -> MUG


     Soan leaps from his position, drawing out his Blacksteel blade to swing it, perhaps uselessly, at the berserker while his OTHER hand seeks to grab whatever it can grab. Be creative, Hand. The world is your oyster.

Lyria Mason has posed:
Lyria Mason is facing nothing quite like she's ever faced before, someone powered by what might be the very source of one of the Jobs of their world. If that Crystal is legit? This brings into question how many other old myths are actually true? She doesn't know, and well she's gettingt punched at and it's going to end badly she doesn't quite get out of the wya intime and she's clipped. The force of the hit sends her off her feet.

She's getting back up but she's hurting, she now understands and notices the Ribbon that he's wearing now? They have to do something about it. The Wolf Lord with his full mind to direct the rage he's under is a terrfyying situation. The stomp comes down and she uses her own Geomancey to part the shockwave of ice andf snow about her. She now opens fire again, but then fires off something from an underslung launcher on one of her pistols the sonic greande goes off in an explosive sonic burst of what else? Mogstep.

Archer (821) has posed:
    Seeing the rush of enemies heading for their rear guard was worrying enough, causing Archer to grit his teeth in vexation.

    However, the sight of the Wolf-Lord literally changing the battlefield around them with a stomp left him wide-eyed in amazement, barking out a curse. Following Audrey's lead, he leaps after her over the wave of ice and snow.

     "If you're asking for a better weapon... take these." Raising a hand, two weapons materialize out of the air - both radically different. One is long and gleaming with a silver edge and a gold-on-black hilt, looking as though it were a weapon forged by divine hands. The other, by sharp contrast, is black, has blood-like patterns across it's flat-sides and looks to be almost demonic as the hilt seems carved from stone. "These are Durandal and Dainslief. The former can grant an instant-use boost in strength before you likely lose it, and the latter is cursed to drive it's wielder to, as soon as they pick it up, slay at least one life before it allows you to let it down. If you think you can handle both, take both - otherwise take just one." As Audrey takes one, he gives one last word of warning - "Most humans can't handle these, you know. Unless you have significant prana - or as you would say, magic - they'll break in short order. Don't rely on them more then you need to."

    That done... the bowman then turns to face the oncoming rush of forces that is Helia's army, deciding that Tyr might need some assistance if he . Surging prana flares in his hands as his two favored blades, Kanshou and Bakuya, take shape - one black, one white.

    He'd seen how far the boy advanced, charging for the enemies with reckless abandon. This Shirou seemingly hadn't partaken in the grail war... and yet to have come this far was impressive to say the very least.

    However, that didn't mean he would just sit back and let the boy do all the fighting.

    Setting eyes on Helia, Archer's legs flooded with prana from Reinforcement as he charged forward, swinging both his falchions - one up at an angle and the other for her flank, intending to take advantage of her oversized blade to get inside her guard.

    He chose her specifically for two reasons; one being that she was the leader of this group and her falling should break the enemy's moral... and the second being that, if his eyes were reading his surroundings properly, Tyr had her forces under control anyway, leaving her as the primary threat.

     "Well, you called for me, so here I am. So lets make this quick, shall we? I think we have a ritual to stop."

O'Mont're Tyr (833) has posed:
O'Mont're Tyr's Burst Cannon fires in, well, long bursts, cutting down the rank-and-file with the ruthless mechanical power possessed by his customized battlesuit. It's difficult to contend with that kind of firepower being put out over such a large area in such a short amount of time. It's also difficult to hide the /source/, making his exposed position at the back-line a tempting target, especially with his other battlesuits tied up with the aerial forHeila, possessed with a will to fight and filled with the energy and the adrenaline needed to actually get in there and do it, spots the weak point. Her forces move in, perhaps coincidentally during one of Tyr's recharge cycles on the Burst Cannon. The Crisis Suit turns, pieces of scripture fluttering in the icy wind and golden filigree gleaming in the fire-light around him.

Tyr raises the actual hand of his battlesuit and clenches it into a fist in challenge. There is a brief transmission from his suit to nowhere in particular. It's a quick series of clicks. They don't mean anything. Unless, of 
 ORDERS > KAUYON > SUDDEN ENTRAPMENT


...there's actually someone out there to receive it.

The snow shifts all around the charging force. Humanoid figures rise up partway from deep snowdrifts, swinging black rifles wrapped in white cloth up from the ground and into position in firing lines in a matter of seconds. The keen-eyed will spot the Imperial aquila on some of the rifles, left exposed despite the metallic nature of the emblem and the otherwise-complete camouflage of the cloaked and goggled humans. It's the first real hint that these are not Tau warriors.

The distinct CRACK and the burning red beams of massed lasguns firing in rapid succession is the other.

The hidden ship's marines open fire, their lines of fire crossed without putting each other within it. Tyr jumps back, his Crisis Suit landing at the point of the wedge-shaped formation, far enough from either group to appear to be in the open. His back is to the rise the Riptide is on, now, but it's still fighting the aerial forces and keeping the skies clear for him and the humans on the ground. It's unlikely it will point its guns inward.

Tyr fully expects the leader of the charge to try and go right for him. He's waiting for it, but he looks unhurried, and unconcerned, insofar as a mechanized suit of armor could appear to be either of these things. If Archer doesn't handle the biggest problem, or if his men don't completely clean up... well, they might be in trouble.

Just like last time.

Funny, that.

Mirielle Edelweiss (666) has posed:
    Mirielle is ready to help Kyra channel her Wild Magic, ready to take even the brunt of the blowback involved. She's prepared for whiteness and power and supporting her friend.

    Cannonfire interrupts this desperate cooperation, and Mirielle hedges her bets. Cannonfire is not Mirielle's friend, but Kyra Hyral's shoving arms certainly are. Thrown into a snowbank, the heavy shells crash around her, some fragmenting on her perimiter shield as she takes a facefirst dive into snow.

    Freezing, unyielding Shivan snow and ice. The nighttime is as day, though, and she thinks she can feel the very heat of the Sun off in the distance. She bangs her fist into the snow lightly, feeling the snow fill the small parts of her clothes, the cold wetness filling her clothes and chilling her to the bone.

    Mirielle shivers, raising herself back to her feet as cannonfire - and cannoneers - are immolated with a giant sheet of fire. "That's... That's not a summon. Kyra what did you /do/?" She breathes. Stunned, at the devastation that is occuring. "We need to move. We need to stop them. They're trying to summon Phoenix herself! Not just 'a shard of Phoenix' - the whole thing! To think about bringing Phoenix here, to Shiva... To say they may destroy the plate is an understatement! I'll provide some cover, but..." Mirielle is panicked. She's shivering and cold and bruised and she almost got bisected by cannonfire and turned into an exploded bunch of chunks and she really really wants to not be here right now. Extending both hands, she incants.

    Mathemagic - Wall x Wall = Squared Barrier

    A thick, mostly-transparent (with a rainbowy refractive effect) wall erupts, hovering in the air and most likely deflecting any attacks that come their way as long as it was active. "You can cast through it. If you aren't going -- I've got to go." she breathes, her air misting in the chilly surrounds.

    "I've got to stop that ritual, whatever the cost."

Landon al Cid (642) has posed:
     Cirra's knee meets Harald's head. There's a ringing noise as armor plating crashes into flesh. Harald stumbles to the side, but then Cirra grabs him with both legs and starts trying to crush it.

     Audrey comes in with the flaming spear and fire sword, stabbing into Harald's wounded side. Heat prevents the blood from crystallizing, and it spills out into the snow, steaming white and red as it lands. Harald simply twists his neck around, Cirra still attached to it, and attempts to *hit Audrey with Cirra* with enough force to crack both their skulls.

     He cannot speak right now, because he's saving breath due to being strangled.

     Lyria parts the ice and snow, but for her work gets a Troll in the face. The massive Troll Morpher plows into her sonic grenade, rebounding it backwards on her as it attempts to shoulder-check the smaller girl into the snow like a tank going over.

     Soan comes out of nowhere. He darts forward, and utilizes Mug, clocking Harald in the face. And he walks away with...

     128/16 = 8 = 1/8th of 128 =...

     YOU GET: BERSERKER CRYSTAL

     The Crystal is warm to the touch. The snow seems not to touch it at all.

     THE CRYSTAL CHANGES HANDS.

     As Soan's fingers close around the Crystal for real, he - and everyone near him - receives a vision. Etched upon their eyes is the distant past.

     A vast green hill,not unlike ancient Ramuh,rises. Atop it are lined hundreds - thousands - of humes. Battle axes beat together as the drums of war thunder. A great and gleaming figure, easily the size of a mountain, rises above them. The titan is clad head to toe in iron. Set into his arms are crystals innumerable.

     The titan levels his massive sword. The countless warriors howl out in fury. They charge down the hill, to meet the Things Without Form and their hungry yellow eyes, and it is then that you notice that there is neither rain nor storm...

     And the vision shatters. Harald still pulses red. With a howl, Harald ensures that Cirra and Audrey learn why he is known as the Wolf-Lord. His massive muscles bulge. His iron skin, wounds and all, warp. He builds over himself a pattern.

     MORPHER SKILL: WEREWOLF

     Harald was never a Berserker. But now he is a Berserking Werewolf. His howl splits the icy snow as his claws rake and slash, his neck suddenly too large for Cirra to hold. His teeth lash at Audrey, and his other claw goes for Soan, attempting to snatch the Crystal back with the desperate fury of a man who has lost something Precious.

Souji Murasame (627) has posed:
The tunnels of Shiva are a scary place. Soan is about to find out just how scary they are, but his quick mind manages to prevent himself from being a sitting duck for the Assassin's more deadly techniques. As he runs away, there is a whisper behind him. "Anna. We will meet again." Soan escapes down the tunnel, ABSCONDING mightly from the encounter with his skin intact. Probably the wiser choice. She does not seem to pursue.

Helia, meanwhile, meets with Archer. The first falchion crashes against her weapon, and a flame lights in her eyes, as if something finally caught her attention. The next seems to almost happen in slow motion as she shoves forward, pushing in on Archer's attack and letting go with one hand, bracing the slablike blade with her thick-armored shouder. The other hand slams in for Archer's gut, the blade cleaving into her side and piercing her armor, drawing blood.

but then he sees the spikes snap out of her gauntlet, locking into place moments before the strike will land. This might sting a bit.

the rest of her forces, meanwhile, encounter a counter-ambush.

On their own land. The idea of a bunch of aliens pulling this off successfully against them is practically an insult on its own...

the lasguns, however, add injury to that insult. The massed ship's marines fires salvos straight into the charging group, taking them by surprise. A number of them fall immediately, blasted with savage wounds by the laser weapons. Beam weapons are somewhat rare in Galianda due to their heavier MP cost compared to the more common railgun (or perhaps shuriken rifle-like, for the Eldar out there) designs, but they're not unknown. The remainder of the unit, however, doesn't stop as they crash into the ship's marines, the melee devolving into a mass of blood and pain. All they can do is try to cut their way through so they can get to Tyr before it's too late.

Souji Murasame (627) has posed:
Chaos reigns in the skies As the battle continues for air dominance of the field. Bombs splash against the energy field of the Riptide, the powerful artillery piece a priority target for Skor and his group, however it proves it can give as well as it gets. anti-air fire chatters upwards, blasting both Wyverns and Wyvern-Morphers alike as several crash to the ground, smoking holes put into their thick, shiva-hardened scales.

Staren, meanwhile, does the sensable thing and fights ninjas with BASIC PHYSICS. The slamming of the armor canopy causes the ninja to leap back, which means it doesnt have a solid grip when he accelerates. There is a dull THUMP as he hits the top of the craft and goes flying off. A wyvern lets go as well to catch the ninja in the air, both of them hitting in a perfect landing... Only for Pavo to strafe past and unleash that heavy ballistic cannon. The shields are definately tuned to take single big hits more than lots of small ones, and it promptly shatters, the ninja and wyvern falling with big holes blown into them, their last sight probably something involving Pavo grinning at them and wondering how much their corpses are worth as Pavo increments her KDA a couple notches. Staren gets assists. Meanwhile, the remaining wyverns are forced to let go as Staren engages high-G acrobatics. It must be nice having intertial dampeners in there, but the wyverns don't really get the chance to argue. Skor, however, is not one to take a challenge lying down. Seeing the Mendacity fly in, the heavy cannon pounding at his shield....

He charges. The shield falls quickly, but it looks like he's more than willing to place Space Chicken with the Mendacity if he gets close enough to do some real damage. The bell rings out, switching targets to the Mendacity and trying to punch some holes in it before it finishes punching holes in him,

Audrey Stormfist (652) has posed:
    A vision-- ancient warriors fighting... Chaos, she surmises? Its agents, at least. A vision of the first Berserkers, taking the fight to the Enemy? Or perhaps the infamous dark lord of Ramuh, the one the prince seems so intent not to walk in the footsteps on. In the heat of the moment it's difficult to tell. Besides, Audrey is a weapon-addict, not an historian. Meaning can be extracted from what she saw if she survives the encounter, and more importantly, when she has time to make wild guesses.

    Returning to reality, she's met by the very real fact that: Harald is still powered up, and: Harald is also a werewolf. Two very, very unfortunate facts. The gnashing teeth of the warlord bite into one of her arms, finding her skin and muscles like steel-- and steel like paper before his teeth. She screams in pain, only barely managing to yank the limb free. Magic flows out of her, into the wound; it closes, but not perfectly. She winces, but it'll do.

    In her recovery, Audrey catches the two blades from Archer, old weapons dropped moments earlier; Harald was kind of a badass, and staying on her toe wasn't as possible as she'd have liked. She's impressed, to say the least. So the man can indeed produce blades out of thing air.

    As she grasps Dainslef, the black and red blade, the curse takes effect immediatly. The blade must taste blood, or it will bring ruin to its wielder. Durandal, conversely, it not activated. She takes a moment to breathe in the history of the swords in her hands. Stories of kings and knights she's never even heard of, with combat exploits that still went into legend in other worlds.

    Good enough, she thinks.

Attack
Martial Arts
> Instinct
    > Roland
Item

    Bright white, miracle-filled light flows through both of her harms, as she comes under the effect of the VALOR spell. Her strength increases, and she dives for Harald with both blades.

    "Your grasp on the battlefield weakens, Wolf-Lord!"

    She delivers three rapid blows, not quite simultaneous, but each powerful (mostly because of the Valor buff), aimed for Harald's shoulders and neck. She doesn't expect to kill him, just to get to try. Although, that black sword is urging her to DO IT, and there's a lot Harald's men around still. She might go to satisfy that urge afterwards.

Souji Murasame (627) has posed:
The spectacular exchange of fire is brutal, but it does not last long. Shirou augments his sight, picking out defensive emplacements... But Kyra goes and emits a deadly wave of flame, scorching away the camoflauging ice and snow, revealing many of the cunningly hidden trap doors for what they are. This only makes Shirou and Xiao's jobs easier as Shirou points them out and Xiao bombards with blades of lightning. the blades crash down, spearing through Cannoneers and Machinists and Chemists, driving many of them to the ground in retreat if not outright killing them. Shirou charges the group... And finds that Ulgrim is already waiting for him, having somehow survived the bombardment. Is he the last man standing? WHo knows? What's important is that huge railgun is sizzling with a new whining charge. This one isn't aimed at anything fancy.

It's just set to shoot straight through Shirou's torso. Just as the Galatine gets close, the weapon fires, the huge spike ripping through the air with another thunderous retort.

Mirielle, meanwhile, ducks into the ritual site and finds there is unrest. The Summoners are very much at gunpoint, but several guards have abandoned their posts, having either been caught up in bloodlust and joining the battle or taking flight to save their own skins. And now the summoners are beginning to slow down, trying to divert the massive MP flow and break down the Pattern without immolating themselves. This much is obvious to Mirielle... But it needs to go faster.

Or she can just start killing them. Up to her.

GREEN SITE: Kill The Summoners or Save the Summoners

Archer (821) has posed:
     Seeing spikes shoot out of the incoming gauntlet, Archer doesn't even have time to be surprised - only to act. Closing his eyes, Archer braces his body for the impact as the spikes slam into his gut, punching through his armor.

    However, instead of the sound of flesh being cut as Helia likely expected... there is only the grinding of more steel.

     "I am the bone of my sword..." the bowman half-mutters, though in this case it is not a line of his Soul Aria... but rather a statement of a current fact, as a layer of small swords, interlocked like a mesh of scales, materializes under his skin and books Helia's gauntlet-spikes from going further into his body then the top-layer of skin. Between his armored chest-plate and the layer of blades, her spikes can't peace through to his organs.

     "Trace; Overedge."

    In an instant, Archrs's blades, one of which is lodged in Helia's side /grow/, their forms fragmenting, mutating and then lengthening from falchions into longswords. Their edges sharpen and lengthen - with the one lodged in the warrior's body likely causing further injury as it expands and becomes sharper while already having cut into her.

     She should have aimed for his head.

    Pinning Helia's arm - still stuck on his armor and blade-skin - with his elbow, Archer puts all his strength into his arms, pushing to drive one blade all the way through Helia's body while the other pushes back on the massive broadsword so that Archer can slice through her with it as well, intending to end the fight here and now.

Lyria Mason has posed:
Lyria Mason gets a Troll Morpher to the face, and well her own grenade coming back at her. She quickly snaps off a shot taking it out, but that might have been aq mistake for her. She's forced to dodge out of the way, and can't make an counter attack on the Troll morpher for the moment. She's attempting to do so when the vision comes to her. She's now in another place another time yet it almost feels like something she'd know. She sees the crystals in the giant's arms.

She ses it all what did she see? A vision of what once was. She's now back in the here and now and she's got a Troll to deal with. She shifts her body sending pillars of ice out of the ground at her attacker then to turn brutally powerful winds to hopefully if they are airborne? Send them flying awya from her so she can help with Harald.

Soan Sagittarius (633) has posed:
     The promises of Anna visiting him again is not lost on Soan. In fact, he rather dread it. Assassins are among the best people that can Stealth, right next to Thieves and Ninjas. They are Rival Jobs. The suble threat is filed away in his stealing concentration. Soan comes away, his hand gripping something warm. Something powerful.

     Then whispers from a time long gone overtakes his senses. He learned of history of the begining of Time at the Monastery. His eyes widen in awe, seeing the majestic sights of the massive Titan, the roaring armies behind it, challenging the Things Without Names.

     The vision shatters as fast as it arrived. Soan blinks, stunned, staggering back as he holds the Job Crystal in his hand, looking at it blearily. "Woah..."

     An alert screams in his mind, reminding that while it was an amazing vision of extreme cultural importance, there is something far more immediately important that needs his attention. Soan looks up.

     He see claws. Soan's eyes widens, his tone growing far more panicked. "WOAH!!" The thief cries out, bringing the Job Crystal close to his body, gripping it with both hands as he turn to face his side to the werewolf, trying to dodge away. The movement itself was successfull, not without sacrifice. The Werewolf rips out a large piece of his winter clothing, with a large crimson spray sending the thief sprialing in the air, landing smack dab in the snow, Job Crystal beneath him.

     He does not appear to be moving, blood leaking out of his torn side in the snow.

     Inwardly, Soan bites down the pain, getting ready to act in case the Werewolf comes after him... before he passes out, anyway.

O'Mont're Tyr (833) has posed:
The Riptide and the two Crisis Suits exchange fire with the Wyvern-Riders in a display of high tech weaponry versus low tech ingenuity. The battlesuits are showing damage by now, the Bomb blasts cracking their armor plating and having rendered a pair of hardpoints on one of the smaller suits useless from the successive hits. They're starting to wear down.

The /smaller/ ones are, that is. Their damage does not stop the Riptide from firing a particle beam into the midst of the largest concentration of the fliers the moment an opportunity presents itself.

Nearby, the counter-ambushers find the space between them and their opponents quickly disappearing. Reaching into the snow again, they snatch dark-bladed bayonets up, affixing them in smooth, practiced motions. Las-fire gives way to brutal hand-to-hand, the marines showing their experience in close quarters and making what would be a bloodbath into a slugfest. Though the Shivan warriors are more specialized in this type of combat, the marines are no slouches themselves.

And neither are the Kroot hidden behind them.

Primitive-looking aliens emerge from hiding near and in the rise the Riptide is behind, rising up and leaping into the backs of the enemy warriors. Their skin is dark green and leathery-looking, and they wield some cross between guns and staves equipped with downward-pointing spikes and blades at the end of the barrels. Worse, it looks like they have a /lot/ of teeth... which they employ alongside their weapons with equal fervor, trapping the Shivans between the marines and man-eating vaguely-birdlike aliens.

Tyr, for his contribution, is reeling from the vision. It's hard to tag a Tau with something like that, and he was /just/ close enough. Fortunately, his battlesuit doesn't move. He looks like he's calmly, silently watching butchery, and that alone is a frightening thing when his suit doesn't have a face.

Kyra Hyral (626) has posed:
    Typically, Kyra would feel bad about the magic, that it doesn't have any chance of not-harassing her allies. For now, she do the work she needs to do, begging for forgiveness later as they work to clear the field from Ulgrim and his forces. Theic ombined teamwork is functioning so far though.

    "Power..." Kyra whispers hoarsely to Mirielle, "It's...power." She steps forward, moving as the magic moves inside her. The stars twinkle ominiously in the distance as the magic once again swells. Thos twinkles grow in brightness until it's revealed that there is anything but involved, the bulk of the falling stars focused on the final man with his railgun.

    Starfall X

    This time the magic feels less fel but does not adhere to any particular 'school', making it a rare 'non-elemental' spell that crashes down upon the railgun user.

Starbound Flotilla has posed:
    Someone wants to play chicken with Zwei.

    "SAIL! Set cruise control to LET'S DO THIS!" George calls out, clapping one hand to his Matter Manipulator. He suddenly is covered by a set of futuristic EVA-combat and exploration armor in a suit that glows a gentle red at the smooth faceplate. He jumps out of his pilot chair and plays chicken with no brakes. Holes are town in his ship, blasting it open and damaging it enough that it'll have to auto-retreat after this. But not before it does what it needs to. "Heeeaaaaargh!"

    He is not planning to slow down. Either that man and his wyvern are going to disengage, or they're going to punch a hole through the Mendacity. Which means punching a hole into the captain's chamber, and out the back. Which means George gets a chance to do something /incredibly/ stupid. The old man leaps forward with the intent to tackle Skor off his beast as he passes through the ship, and engage him in FREEFALL MELEE.

    As a note, melee that lacks functional footing is George's specialty; ROBUSTING is a martial art developed in zero gravity. Which will hopefully mean that George will get a good chance to execute a well-practiced martial arts grappling maneuver, enhanced with his armor's strength-enhancing technology, that first involves a swift jab to the throat, followed by an attempt to dislocate both Skor's arms in a sweeping motion that transfers into a combination elbow smash and jab square to the face.

    Pavo pulls away, letting Staren go back to Combat Ace duties. She dives down to catch George, since his craft is currently so damaged by the heavy beast's blasts and possible impact that George can't much stay in it, and also because it's possible that a valuable loot bell is falling near him, to steal. Biteblade, of course, keeps her eye on the prize. There's no kill like overkill. If George hasn't properly doomed the warlord to a lethal fall, Biteblade intends to gib him into tiny pieces with a magnetically accelerated durasteel slug.

    Hopefully they've established aerial superiority at this point, because Albert very much intends to begin his bombardments, and directing the fighters in the air to start brutally strafing any areas that don't have hostage summoners there.

Cirra Constantine (675) has posed:
    The vision makes Cirra pause, almost forgetting where she is but is harshly reminded when Harald turns into a werewolf. The tickening cords of the wolf's muscles mean Cirra's grip is non-existant, and when he goes to throw her.

    The Judge hits the snowwy ground with a *crack* from either a bone breaking of her armor, it's impossible to tell. but as she the Judge rolls hse takes out a Law Card and slaps it against the ground. "The. Rampart!"

    Spears appear out of the ground, trying to surround Harald and impale him to restrict his movements.

5tOr jsut plain impale hime.

Landon al Cid (642) has posed:
     Miracles and valor assault the Werewolf that is the Warlord of Shiva. The legendary swords carve into his shoulders, slashing deep into the meaty, furry body parts. No blood tears forth - but then, of course not. Instead, magic tears forth, shining into the air as Audry rips pieces of the Werewolf Pattern Harald built for himself to shreds. It attempts to heal over as best it can. Harald swipes at her half-heartedly, but does not speak - presumably because it's hard to talk when you're a wolfman.

     Lyria stabs pillars of ice into the Troll. They raise the morpher up, pinning him inside his own morphed form, high in the air. Trapped, the Morpher has no choice but to unravel the form - which undoubtey leaves him with no MP as he lands on the ground. He holds up his hands and surrenders instantly. He knows better.

     Harald scores a crucial wound on Soan, but he doesn't get to enjoy the victory. The minute he lunges for the crystal, Cirra's Law Card emerges from the ground. It stabs his paws, flinging him backwards as it impales him just like the giant spikes of ice impaled the Troll. Harald struggles for a moment, and then...

     ...and then it becomes clear that Audrey is right. He's losing. The battlefield is breaking. His best effort has failed. His desperate ploy, ruined.

     Harald lets out a mournful howl. It pierces even the swell of battle. His main force begins to withdraw, leaving the Summoners behind, who collapse in shock and horror. The Summoner in the center of it all rolls his eyes back into his head and collapses like wet playdough.

     Harald rips himself free of the Rampart, falling down. He gives one last, lingering look at his fallen forces, at his broken gambit, at his dead dream.

     And then, on all fours, with Berserker strength fuelling his iron muscle, Harald retreats.

Audrey Stormfist (652) has posed:
    Harald retreats.

    In Audrey's hands, Durandal shatters, as Archer warned. But Dainslef is still there, used for only one swing, not two; cracked, maybe, but intact enough for its curse of ruin to continue taking effect.

    Driven to murder, the Heritor leaps into the retreating lines of Harald's warriors, knights, morphers and others, making full use of her increased speed and might from being both a Heritor and a Monk. Not that you could tell the latter right now: she lacks discipline, and is wielding a sword around like an enraged beast.

    Until it shatters, anyway. Which it will, eventually!

    She just intends for it to taste blood before it does.

    She's not berserk, or even close, it's less 'insane rage' and more 'driven to kill at least a single man to satisfy the sword in her hands'.

Xiao Li Yu (823) has posed:
     Xiao lowered her hand, her flight suddenly sputtering. "Ah...used too much MP." She muttered as her altitude rapidly decreased, soon landing her in the snow roughly. "....." Silence fell as she looked around the battlefield, scrutinizing the situation at current. "Well, I've done all I can."

     The researcher carelessly stretched her arms above her head, letting out a yawn. "I'll leave the rest to them." She abruptly turned and started to walk off towards the Ramuhan front lines. Based on radio commentary, it sounded like Soan was in quite a pickle. But at least he got the crystal, right? She'd want to have a look at it. ...Later.

     She brought a hand to her chin as she went. "Hmn...I'll need to adjust the MP conversion algorithm on the AANS. The consumption rate is still too large for extended flight..." And there she went, gone right back to musing about other things.

Soan Sagittarius (633) has posed:
     Soan struggles with keeping conciousness while he lies in the snow. He was ready to leap, to stab, to bite, to breath flame at whatever was going to get his hand on him, to get the Crystal back. His will struggle to keep himself awake, looking up away form the snow. His vision blurrs as he reaches out, clawing at the snow to drag himself away. He's had worse.

     It's still a pain. Now and then, he can feel he blacked out for a few seconds, before coming back to again.

     Werewolves hurts, when you don't wear super heavy armor, apparently. Who knew.

Emiya Shirou (560) has posed:
    Ohhhhhh.... crap.

    Shirou sees the cannon aimed towards him and is faced with a very, VERY difficult decision. Or rather... no decision at all. There's no time to dodge, no time to project anything. He has only one tool at his disposal: Excalibur Galatine, filled to its very limit with prana from his own efforts and this insane summoning ritual.

    "Crap, it can't be helped--!" He might not survive this, but like HELL is he just going to let that shot him without doing SOMETHING. In the very moment before the shot's made he whips the burning blade around, readies for a strike drawing on speed, strength, and precision nearing that of Sir Gawain himself. For this one thing, Galatine helps him... even though the swing nearly the boy's arm from his socket!

    "EeeeeeexxxXXCALIBUR GALATINE!"

    It's not a particularly masterful counterfeit of the Holy Sword. Nor does Shirou have nearly enough prana to spare to power its special ability fully even if he COULD replicate the blade at its true majesty.

    But come close enough and a fake will have abilities similar to the original nonetheless!

    And even a cheap knockoff of a Holy Sword is nothing to sneeze at.

    The burning Blade CLEAVES the cannon shell at a slight diagonal and impact with the Noble Phantasm fragments it. A wave of golden sunfire vaporizes most of those fragments and continues much further out like the breath of an enraged dragon. Snow and ice is instantly superheated and sublimated, as is the ground and rock below - GLASS is left in the wake of this great flame!

    And this raging inferno's headed straight for Ulgrim!

    But much to Shirou's dismay, this doesn't really protect him from the shot. Not especially.

    The traced copy of Excalibur Galatine shatters in his hands, and superheated fragments of the shattered cannonball blast past and through him, taking away chunks of his very being like a great beast chomping down. A fistful of body's ripped from his side, leg, both arms. The snow BEHINd him is splattered with blood and guts, and the sheer momentum of that impact sends Shirou - a nasty hole plowed through his torso and out the other side of his body, puncturing one lung and severing major arteries despite the protection of his body of blades - flying back and tumbling over the melting ground in a mangled heap.

Souji Murasame (627) has posed:
Helia is a powerful Fighter, but she is no Servant. As the blade in her side suddenly grows and shears through her body, her eyes widen, blood flying from her mouth at the sudden massive internal trauma.

In retrospect, she thinks, she agrees. She should have aimed for the head.

She is dead before she hits the ground, red spreading in a pool around her as she lies in the ice and snow, steaming as her blade shears into the ground at an angle, her weapon, perhaps, her remaining tombstone as she finds out too late Archer believes in being efficient.

Meanwhile, the Kroot join in on the brawl, getting a double ambush in on the remains of her unit. As they see Helia hit the ground, a groan of despair runs through the group like a wave... But they do not break. It is bloody work, but the Ship Marines and Kroot hack, slash, shoot and cleave their way down to the last man, the entire band sharing the fate of their leader.

By the time they advance, they see that the Summoners have been left to their own devices, one gun lying on the ground, apparently having blown up in someone's face when they tried to shoot it. There are traces of... foam... in it? Odd.

BLUE SITE: Save the Summoners or Kill the summoners?

Mirielle Edelweiss (666) has posed:
    Mirielle reaches the ritual site, as Kyra calls down LITERALLY STARS FROM THE SKY. Power, she calls it. And power it truly is. She probably annihilates her target, and this leaves Mirielle a flat run, for her screaming muscles towards the ritual site.

    The obvious choice here is to fill the air with fire and death and let the backwash handle the rest. It'd be certain. It'd be easy.

    But... She can't do that. Not this time. She urges Kyra forward to try and tap the pool of magic that's tearing up the surrounding. That would be used to summon Phoenix - the sun - right on top of everyone.

    No. This has collapsed into a single point. If there's any remaining soldiers holding up the Summoners, she'll sling some Lightning-2's their way.

    Well, if that's clear, she'll just stand there like an idiot, panting and worn out.

    "Useless. Acting this way... Feels useless." She mutters, mostly to herself.

Souji Murasame (627) has posed:
The Wyvern air force rapidly depletes, the remants scattering to the wind even as Skol meets George in midair. With a scream of defiance, he leaps towards George, crashing into him and battling it out in freefall. As they grapple and spin, Skol hammers his head forward, trying to bash through George's defenses, but this leaves him open for that jab to the throat. With a choking noise, Skol grabs for his throat on reflex, something George takes brutal, mechanical advantage of as he reaches out and dislocates Skol's arms, rendering him unable to fight back...

At least, until with a wrench and an altogether unhealthy sound he pops one arm back into place with an unholy howl of pain. He takes more hits, but reaches out to grab for George's neck with an iron grip, trying to crush his throat.

That maniacal, bloodthirsty gleam is the last thing George sees of Skol before he erupts into giblets from Biteblade's shot. Pavo, meanwhile, can swoop in and nab the falling bell.

The wyvern, now lacking its master, hovers there for several seconds, before turning and flying off without offering further combat.

The Riptide, meanwhile, vaporizes another Wyvern or two as the lines break.

AERIAL SUPERIORITY HAS BEEN ACHIEVED.

As they fly over the ritual site, they see that the situation is similar to before, but with Harald fleeing the field the guards have done so as well. The question simply remains of whether you find it more efficient to let the Summoners try to shu down the ritual or to kill them to speed-abort it.

RED SITE: Kill the Summoners or Save the summoners?

O'Mont're Tyr (833) has posed:
The shipboard marines and the Kroot fight in fast and bloody combat. When they're done, they reform into smaller fire-teams, the still-standing members of the marines moving in to secure the site while the Kroot... uh...

...eat the bodies.

Yeah.

Tyr's Crisis Suit goes with them, finding the summoners. The marines come at them with weapons drawn, shouting threats to shut it down or else, and clubbing them into unconsciousness when they have to. It's a decidedly non-lethal method of ending the ritual on that side, because Tyr wants them for questioning.

Staren has posed:
 <<Thanks for the save, Pavo!>> Staren's able to return to the field more quickly thanks to her.

 Inertial dampeners. Yes that is a thing he should get. He was depending on his flightsuit and the fact that he is properly secured in his chair.

 As he makes his way back towards the RED SITE, he sees the summoners are unguarded. The Star Hawk flies down and lands, transforming to humanoid form. "You're free! Now... shut this spell down, quickly!" Staren announces over the speakers.

 He then takes up his own guarding position -- not aiming a weapon at the summoners, but protecting them. Just in case, say, a ninja or something tries to sneak up and start assassinating them. Or his allies get bloodthirsty. >:

2963/WoS: Cold War

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