4879/Progressing into the Fordidden Forest

Progressing into the Fordidden Forest
Date of Scene:	15 December 2016
Location:	The Quilt
Synopsis:	The League wants to study an artifact that they can't get their hands on legally. The Paladins are there to frown at them and say no.
Cast of Characters:	1080, 961, 278, Crys Gattz, 151, Heinkel Wolfe (Dropped), Sir Gawain, 152, 367

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Henry Jekyll (1080) has posed:
Out of the way in Punetia, a small mercantile republic in a fantasy world one, can find the Great Woods. At the heart of these Great Woods lies the Forbidden Glade, reported to be home to an ancient artifact not seen by mortal eyes since time immemorial. Reports on what it's supposed to look like, or what it's supposed to do vary greatly, but one thing is true without doubt.

The doge's men do not take attempts to transgress into the Forbidden glade lightly.

Henry Jekyll himself is still a small distance away from the Forbidden Glade, quietly observing the people guarding the perimeter. "This won't do." He mutters to himself, and gets out his flip phone, dialling a number. "Can I have some help please? This forbidden glade is annoyingly well defended."

Victor Xix (961) has posed:
     Almost no sooner than the call is through than Henry receives backup.

     The massive thing that lands next to him may or may not be what he had in mind when he asked for it, though. Nearly ten feet tall and five across, it is clad only in a bandolier, ragged pants, and a massive, tattered red cape. It is in the shape of a man, if men had lion's manes and massive jagged knives of teeth and claws that look sharp enough to rip through steel.

     It lands in a crouch, rising slowly to its full height as its cloak billows around it. Sharp and predatory red eyes dance in the night as the backup sends its cloak billowing and starts walking forward.

     This is the Warmaster, Victor Xix, and he has just uprooted a tree and slung it over his shoulder as a weapon because it is there and he is going to need one in just a moment.

     The doge's men probably will not like what he intends to use it on.

     (It's them.)

Bramble Patch (278) has posed:
It doesn't take long for 'magic forest protecting hidden glade of ancient artifact' to attract certain attention. Especially when Bramble Patch has been so eagerly waiting for the oppritunity to make a good impression to her new allies. And see if the promises of actual aknowledgement and respect hold true. Grab her vest, grab her bags of some alchemical wonder she's been hording for such an occasion, and off she goes.

One call and a few warpgates later (it's taking time to learn the new rearrangement of things) and the orange and green pony does eventually trot up to Jekyll's position. "You called for some extra help, boss?"

The other large maned form arriving gets a look for a moment, but she's seen stranger creatures before. Not going to let that bother her. There was no words to express how -good- it felt getting out do something again, especially when it was now surrounded by many more like mines than before.

Crys Gattz has posed:
A job's a job abd the league was paying pretty well also in things she needed. That the Paladins wouldn't or couldn't offer her. So here she was having picked up work for the league though she had to wonder about her time here? Either way she'd find out it's not like she had anything to lose really. She had every thing to gain with the leauge in the end. She head about what Heny was offering though given the nature of what she was doing she was brining a load out of less leathal load outs so long as they were out of the way, right? She was glad as she normaly was maybe some former union personel might spot the when they show up. She speaks quietly as she arrives.

"So just what's the nature of the problem? I could likely act as a diversion to lure them away I'm good at making things flashy."

Ainsley (151) has posed:
    They get some opposition. The first one they find may not be the most intimidating.

    A reptile woman floats down from up in the air, landing near one of the guards. She turns her head to check for the presence of the trespassers, and pulls the badge off her left breast pocket, holding it up so that the various League members hoping to break the law can clearly see the big glowing letters that manifest in front of her.

    'Chevalier Ainsley - CB Judge'

    And then she speaks out, her voice carrying more clearly than any megaphone. She has a stern but patient voice, very typical of police officers or other such law-keepers.

    "The Paladins are here under the request of the local governing bodies, under suspicion of an impending trespassing on forbidden grounds. Please turn back immediately." She taps one of the guards she landed near and asides to him, "The moment we see they aren't going to leave, fall back, okay? Not an order, just a suggestion." She continues...

    "This area is forbidden according to the laws of Punetia. You may not enter, forcibly or otherwise, without the proper authorization from the local authorities. Turn back immediately." She definitely isn't initiating violence, as that's not the Paladin way. She is also standing like a five foot tall feathered, semi-adorable wall of justice, with one hand resting on the hilt of the longsword at her hip.

    Her heart hammers in her chest despite her brave face.

Heinkel Wolfe (Dropped) has posed:
  There comes striding from behind a few trees a tall and lanky figure, which strolls to a halt behind Ainsley.

  Heinkel Wolfe takes a few long moments to go digging around in a pocket, probably in search of her badge. When she holds it up, there is no fanfare or magical enchantment to make it pretty. It's just a plain metal badge, glinting in whatever ambient light there is.

  "Chevalier Wolfe. CC." The voice sounds like it could be a man or a woman, without leaning definitively either way. She doesn't say anything else to the trespassers; she just strolls up and stops next to Ainsley, with hands shoved in pockets and a bored expression on her face. What's visible of it. Her large round sunglasses completely block her eyes, and a cigarette dangles from her lower lip.

  Her head tilts just faintly. "You think they're actually going to turn back...?" Both hands withdraw from the pockets, folding, and she stands there looming a bit beside Ainsley; positively towering next to the poor lizard-woman at five feet eleven.

Ainsley (151) has posed:
    Without looking away from the people weighing a criminal act, Ainsley answers Heinkel, speaking over her shoulder, "No... but it's best to give all due warnings whether or not I believe they'll work. We'll see."

Sir Gawain has posed:
Following not far behind Heinkel, who follows not far behind Ainsley, is a knight in a black suit with a golden tie. Gawain has arrived, not bringing his boar this time because he didn't have time to check if it'd be okay, but is instead on foot, as he shuffles a hand into his jacket to pull out his badge as he steps aside, and slightly in front of, Ainsley. It has an identical enchantment.

'Warden Gawain'

Waiting for Ainsley to finish her address (this seems to fall into her jurisdiction), the Knight of the Sun speaks up. "If you do turn back, everything will be alright, and you will not be arrested! However, if you proceed further, we will have to pursue!" He simply adds to her speech, attempting to give them motivation to turn back after going this far. He then asides to Ainsley and Heinkel. "I suggest, if it does come to blows, that we attempt to prioritize minimizing damage towards the grounds and that inside over combat with the criminals. Judge Ainsley, is this acceptable?"

Ainsley (151) has posed:
    Ainsley speaks over to Gawain the same way she did with Heinkel. "Yes, it is. We mustn't allow this to cause damage to the area."

Faruja (152) has posed:
Not too long after Ainsley and company make their proclaimations, magic whips through the area near them. Space twists and contorts as figures appear. Two heavily armored figures in Templar armor hold shields and blades, reds and golds marking them as Inquisition members. Slightly behind them, in his robes now marked with an extra Paladins badge on a necklace around his neck, Inquisitor Senra arrives.

"I would suggest leaving, gentlemen." He offers. Ainsley's already done the lawful tellings-off, after all.

Victor Xix (961) has posed:
     It is possibly a nice change of pace that Ainsley's, Gawain's, and Faruja's very thoughtful, very brave, very Paladinly declarations does not get a monologue from the massive lion-man-monster wielding a tree. A lot of massive lion-man-monsters wearing giant capes and wielding oversized weapons would probably launch into a spiel of overwrought mockery and purple prose to illustrate how little respect they had for the law.

     Victor, very simply, says, "No," and brings the tree down very, very hard - hard enough to splinter the tree on impact, leave a crater in the ground, *and* probably damage the wall in the process, not to mention anyone silly enough to be standing in the way of the tree coming down.

     Of course, now he is unarmed. But something about the way the giant lion-man is advancing makes it very much seem like that isn't really a concern he holds near and dear to his heart.

     "Please do not surrender," Victor says, cracking his very large knuckles and shrugging his massive shoulders, "I am looking forward to this being a very good evening. I would hate to have you ruin it so soon."

Henry Jekyll (1080) has posed:
"Thank you for making our point for us, mister Xix." Jekyll adds, and fishes a vial of some kind of liquid out of his pocket. "The League regrets to inform the Paladins that when the Law stands in the way of Progress, the Law must bend or it will break." Then, he pops open the vial and downs it. The result is pretty much immediate. He falls to one knee, his face twisting into an angry grimace as he gains at least a dozen pounds worth of muscle.

When Mister Hyde rises, it's barely recognizable as the same person. Without further delay, and with a cruel twisted grin on his face, he rushes forwards, throwing a punch that could shatter walls right for the nearest hostile face. Heinkel's.

Victor Xix (961) has posed:
     "You are the Law in this metaphor. It is not a metaphor. You will probably break." Victor adds to back up Henry's statement, completely unnecessarily. It's hard to tell if the ancient Greaver is seriously explaining it or if he's trying to be funny.

Heinkel Wolfe (Dropped) has posed:
  Heinkel Wolfe looks up at the giant tree. It's coming down straight at her at terminal velocity, she observes detachedly. Sweet Christ that creature is obscenely strong--

  That cassock-like coat rustles as Heinkel slides a foot sideways. Instinct kicks in a second later, and the paladin (Paladin?) throws herself sideways before the tree has a chance to break ninety percent of the bones in her body. If she lands badly, she figures she might break one or two, instead of 'most of them.' The latter would be very inconvenient right now.

  Instead, someone aims a punch at her, and she stands back up in time for it to connect with her jaw. Heinkel manages a sound that sounds vaguely like 'hafohk?!' as her head snaps sideways.

  She responds, reflexively, by snarling -- it's a shockingly inhuman sound, resonant and deep -- pulling out one of her two pistols, and attempting to shoot Henry in the throat.

Ainsley (151) has posed:
    The tree comes down, used as a weapon by Victor Xix to prove a point. Ainsley doesn't let this just happen. Instead of shattering against the wall, Ainsley had pulled a metal book from her coat on reflex, and shouted a word that got lost in the swoosh of wind and power. The tree impacts, instead, a being that manifests from the air, who takes the tree to the face and lets it shatter to splinters. The turtle-like figure, probably about eight feet tall, grimaces and falls backwards, but the damage doesn't hit the structure itself. It just makes a mess.

    The spirit(?) shatters apart like blue shards of glass, the shards vanishing, and Ainsley staggers and struggles to catch her breath under the sudden impact.

    "This isn't progress, this is impatience!" she shouts back at Henry, one hand pressed against the side of her face. She glances at Victor Xix, his rather negative attitude making it pretty clear that they won't accept just turning around at this point.

Crys Gattz has posed:
Crys sees sone of the Paladins arriving, she sees Ainsley as well that gets one eyebrow going up but then she sees something that makes her blood run cold. She sees a person she's pretty dman sure what they are.

"An Iscarlot?! Here?!"

She tenses she knows how bad this is going to be she doesn't get too shock at Gawain. She mentally goes over what she's carrying in her Photone trap. She knows some them and how they fight, but in turn they also know her. Faruja accidnely infering she's a man leaves her looking /very/ annoyed at that. She looks to the Paladins and shrugs for a moment.

"I'm here on contract, I go with my employer says..."

Well that's it and there's a started look as Henry starts to transform there's a look of shock on Crys's face, she doens't have weapons out just yet She has to wonder what the hell did she sign up for? It doesn't matter so for now.

"It's hard to be paitant when your own life span is measures in a decade or two."

Weapons are summoned but in the back of her mind? Am I going down the path Sue with the Black Paper? Two gauntles appear on her arms the Nei claws, the phone blades flare to life and she moves in on Faruja.

"Heads up old man."

She gives him long enough to react and she then breaks nto a charge launching into a combination of rapid strikes with the twin weapons.

Bramble Patch (278) has posed:
As an experienced alchemist in her own right Bramble Patch knows what happens when people start chugging potions like that, and wisely takes a few steps to the side as Jekyll transforms. That, and Vix's bluntness, really has her feeling like she picked the right operation here.

"As much as I like a good speech -when appropriate-, this is a nice change of pace." A hoof dabs into her vest for a moment, pulling out some large seeds. Which she tosses in front of her, as the gem-studded headband of hers starts to glow. As soon as the seeds hit the ground they take root and grow at an accelerated rate into a pair of oddly flame-like looking blossoms.

Which start spitting small but hot gouts of fire at the local guardians as they open. "We tried to be practical, but you had to butt in. Now we'll just have to burn our way through!"

Figures she'd find a way to make Fireweed a lot more literal. Probably want to do something about that before she does actually burn the forest up.

Faruja (152) has posed:
Faruja can't remain stoic. No, not after he hears that crack. He's been on the battlefield to recognize that particular sound far too well. A sub-vocal mutter puts a note to hopefully slide a white mage Heinkel's way when this is all over.

But before he can offer any gravity-related help up for the Iscariot member, there's a woman black with flaming blades heading for him at speeds impressive yet suspect. Rather than move, the Burmecian nods to his men. Shields are held up and holy energy gathers in their swords before there's a clash of steel, fire, and likely bodies. One of the knights is blown back. The other, taller and more hearty, puts his back into it. The force required to hold back the woman has him digging in his greaves.

The second knight doesn't rise for quite a few moments. The intervention does let Faruja get a closer look. That eye widens, recognition dawning. "My, my, my. I must say, I am quite surprised to see you here, Lady...Gattz, was it? I do not believe we were formally introduced. Inquisitor Senra, Chevallier of the Paladins. A shame 'tis under these circumstances. Do not turn the honor of your service to dust. Turn back, my Lady, please."

A slow pause. He doesn't /really/ expect that to happen. Which is exactly why he mutters an incantation, and Crys might just feel the force of a Gravity spell trying to drag her back away from both Faruja, his Knights, and pointedly back towards the exit of the Forbidden ground here.

As telling as her own force, his is like the force of a very cross parent dragging their child into their room for time out.

Sir Gawain has posed:
Well, this is going poorly. Immediately, they're struck at by a massive man. And after that, a Noble Phantasm is produced and a Servant is detected, but only then. The deduction is made rapidly: this is the Assassin-class Servant of the League of Progress, Henry Jekyll, and it seems he has just become Mister Hyde. And as he realizes that, the tree is still coming down. While Ainsley moves to tank it, the Knight of the Sun is taking another route: charging forwards at Victor.

Gawain is /fast/, due to being a Servant. He dodges the tree even though he's still underneath it, instead moving directly for and to the side of Victor (specifically the one facing away from trespassing, in an attempt to corral). It's just a throw of weight, before magical energy wraps around the knight, replacing his suit with a set of shining floral armor, and his signature holy sword manifesting in his hand. "Mister Lionman, you are under arrest for trespassing, vandalism, assault, and battery! You have the right to remain silent! Anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law!" Gawain isn't actually sure if the Paladins have Miranda rights, but it's good to be safe, as he forms a defensive stance for whatever counter-attack will follow.

Victor Xix (961) has posed:
     The tree fragments, and with it Ainsley's persona. Victor takes a moment to be fascinated by that, flat-out ignoring that Gawain just danced around the tree without trouble. That was new. New was interesting. But as he proceeds to move towards Ainsley like a slasher movie monster, Gawain puts on a very pretty light show and draws Victor's attention again. Those predatory red eyes turn to look at Gawain. Fangs more sabretooth shredders than lion bits glint off Gawain's lightshow like jagged knives of bone.

     There's no hint of amusement or mockery on Victor's face, which is also perhaps refreshing. The massive lion-thing appears to be one hundred percent alright with the concept of being arrested, and doesn't even make fun of the law in the process (merely added his own addendum to Henry because he could). "I do not care what you use. Satisfy yourself as you see fit."

     "Give me your name," Victor says bluntly as he turns to move towards Gawain."

     "I am Victor."

     "It is my name, my title, and my occupation."

     And then he *moves*.

     Gawain is fast due to being a Servant. Victor is fast for no visible reason at all. Something ten feet tall should *not* move like that, like muscles made of steel and violence are a launching mechanism for a deadly missile. Something five feet wide should *not* leave a crater from where it launched and should *not* be described in terms that might resemble ballistics.

     Victor's lunge has but one purpose: to grab Gawain by the face and *drag him* along the ground *by* said face at those same unpleasant speeds. It'll probably leave him open to counterattack, but Victor is apparently the kind of fighter who just doesn't care.

     That might be useful information!

Ainsley (151) has posed:
    Ainsley is still reeling from the shock of being hit with a tree in the SOUL. She isn't as hurt as she would be if she got hit directly, but it slows her enough that the battle unfolding around her is hard to deal with. She stumbles away from Henry and Heinkel, and Faruja's status over there momentarily distracts her. And then she hears Bramble speaking as well in the chaos.

    Her mind almost shuts off. These people want to get in here so badly that they'd kill to do it. They don't seem to be hesitating at all.

    "You!" Ainsley charges toward the sight of the plant sprouting and beginning to emit a blast of fire in their direction. "Stop!" She isn't much for words when she has to act. She decides to summon her Persona again -- a flash of blue light, apparently the catalyst is looking at the metallic surface of a book she keeps on her -- in order to manage this threat without getting immolated for her trouble.

    "Reflection!" she shouts, pointing to the flames. A series of strange translucent panels spawn in the air, reflecting the fire away from anything vulnerable, but putting severe magical taxing on Ainsley's body to do so. The panels allow Ainsley to get in close to try and SLICE at the plant with her sword, removing the threat.

    The book is flipped open, and Ainsley shouts, "Cold Embrace of the Night Hag!" The book glows a bright blue, and she slaps it shut as she tries to get in extra close and... touch Bramble Patch on the nose. If she does manage to touch, her spell tries to emit a sensation of 'sleep paralysis,' to try to impair Bramble's nervous system, to 'trick' it into slowing down or making her legs give out with a false message. Essentially, a non-lethal attack to try to impair Bramble without putting a single bruise on the plant pony.

    "CEASE AND DESIST!!" she bellows as she does this.

Henry Jekyll (1080) has posed:
Mister Hyde does get shot in the throat, bullets piercing flesh as he doesn't even try to dodge. The wounds are briefly gruesome, then they settle into something less lethal. They still bleed, but slowly, as his body starts to restructure itself in response to the wound, it seems like many of the things Heinkel is used to fighting, this guy is tough.

He's also relying on brute force over strategy, perhaps unexpected from the commanding officer of an organization like the League, but his response to being shot in the threat is simply to apply more physical violence, this time raising his knee to try to hit Heinkel Wolfe in the gut.

Crys Gattz has posed:
Crys Gattz looks at Faruja for a moment as she closes in. "Throw it away? I spent most of my /life/ I with the Union since I was seven." She gets caught in the gravity and is flowed down she doesn't turn back she's got her job this is a contact but it doesn't sit well with her in the end. "Tch wait, be paitent I spent most of my life waiting. Fighting other people's wars. What does it matter I'm just going to burn out in the end."

She lunges again but this time rather than strike with her wepaon she mutters something and sends a wave of ice at Faruja.

She then flips away landing in a crouch. "The kind of laws the Paladin's enforce will be a death sentance to my species."

Bramble Patch (278) has posed:
The deflection spell does it's job well, difussion the bursts of flame in other directions so Ainsley can get close and cut the problem down at the root of the problem. Being chopped down is a weakness that even magically infused plants can't do much to stop it seems. The Fireweed seems to almost burn itself up as it falls, leaving nothing but ash in its wake.

The spellcasting and using the book hasn't escaped Bramble Patch's notice though, and while not as skittish as a normal horse may be, she knows to back the hell away quickly from someone trying to reach out and touch her. "I've already been in the embrace of one of tho--" Bramble pauses. "--Oh, HAG. I thought you said NAG at first." Nightmare Moon probably wouldn't take well to being called a nag, but she's not here to say anything about it. "Though come to think of it, hag would of fit too."

Wow she's already dissing the previous master that seemingly ditched her to deal with Celestia's little goodie-two-hooves alone. How times change.

Bramble grabs one of the vines entwinned in her mane with a forehoof, and it twists itself into a thorny ring as she pulls it free. "I didn't cease for a bunch of pamby ponies spewing happiness and rainbows, I sure as buck ain't ceasing for the likes of -you-!" She flings the thorny ring spinning in the air towards Ainsley.

Heinkel Wolfe (Dropped) has posed:
  It couldn't be a nice clean job, could it? It seems like everything Heinkel Wolfe has a hand in, willingly or unwillingly, it turns into a bigger mess than a sprawling pile of spaghetti.

  Part of her wonders if she can finagle hazard pay out of Maxwell, even as she's trying not to let that knee go anywhere near her solar plexus, because she's pretty sure this freak of nature could destroy her with a single blow if he had the opportunity.

  This is really going to hurt in the morning.

  Scratch that. It really hurts /now/.

  Heinkel side-steps a little unsteadily, and the forest around her tilts and swims in her vision. That crack to the head was more than a little disorienting. By the time she can focus her eyes again, Mister Hyde is bringing a knee to her gut with enough force to put a dent in concrete.

  The priest responds about as well as expected to that as expected: She manages to produce her other pistol from her coat, and both pistols roar -- along with their wielder -- as she proceeds to make every effort at emptying both clips into the hulking man.

  She doesn't talk much, mostly because her jaw is still broken, and she's fairly certain her words wouldn't be even remotely coherent.

Sir Gawain has posed:
Ainsley, Heinkel, and Faruja are all alive and handling themselves. This is good, because this means Gawain can focus on his target. With his sword still at the ready, he begins to reply to Victor. "I am Sir Gawain, Paladin Warden! Please, stop this before anyone gets hur-"

And then before he can finish, the hulking lionman is speeding straight at him, way too fast. Gawain's arms move to react, but the rest of him doesn't get the chance, as Victor's grip is firmly tightened around the Knight's face and used to pull him towards Victor. Gawain realizes pretty immediately that this man is not a normal human(?!) and therefore he can take normal fighting measures against him.

Which is why as Gawain is pulled forward, his sword is also plunging forward, moving to lodge itself in Victor's shoulder...and set ablaze. Fire wreathes around the blade, magically channeled through, and attempts to burn the lionman WHILE stabbing him. Or, at the least, make him let go.

Ainsley (151) has posed:
    Ainsley misses with the spell. That's unfortunate. What's also unfortunate is that this pony seems to be under the impression that she is about spewing happiness and rainbows. When the thorny ring is prepared, Ainsley is already grasping the longsword with both of her hands. The ring is tossed at her and bites into her scales as her sword goes up to deflect it and she swipes to slice at it. It's not as bad of a wound as it could have been, but still.

    Then she lunges forward again, but this time there's no words, no demand to halt. Just a calm, determined stare. Absolute focused stoicism. The sword glows blue, imbued with the spell that Bramble just made an effort to avoid. Ainsley leaps forward... and the arc is longer than Bramble might expect, Ainsley faking out a normal jump by just using her ability to fly to make it harder to predict where she'd land.

    The sword comes down, and the flat end of it is used to try to strike Bramble anywhere on her body. It'll leave a nasty bruise if it hits, and it has a chance to transfer the magic into her target, communicating the false sensations.

Victor Xix (961) has posed:
     No, Gawain, Victor is very definitely not a normal human, lion-man, or whatever the appropriate term to dance around 'mortal' is here. If that wasn't apparent immediately, it's apparent when the Noble Phantasm has to *work* to dig into Victor's meaty shoulder and doesn't immediately pierce through - even once it's broken the skin, it's like trying to wedge the sword through solid concrete.

     Gawain is, of course, strong enough to carve through solid concrete, so that ultimately means that it takes him a little more force - the force provided by Victor's own movement - to get it through.

     Then he lights it ablaze. Victor roars, a feral, bestial howl breaking his otherwise hulking cool demeanor, and releases Gawain immediately. That *hurts*.

     So there's that. But...at the same time, Gawain may notice that Galatine is not easily coming free. Victor, despite being *partially on fire*, has *flexed his entire arm* - and this has the effect of, essentially, *locking* the sword burning his insides in muscles like concrete. This hurts way more.

     That says a *lot* about Victor.

     The Warmaster punches a hole in the wall with his massive hand, grabs it, and simply rips a section of it free.

     He is not doing this to get inside.

     He is doing this to *beat Gawain with a brick wall while his arm is on fire and Gawain's sword is lodged inside it like the Sword in the Stone*.

     What is perhaps more surprising is that the brick wall does not feel like an improvised weapon to Gawain. It is like he's dueling someone who has, all his life, fought with a brick wall, someone who has learned how to wield a brick wall like Gawain and the Knights of the Round Table wield swords and lances and axes. This is weird. This is not normal.

     Of course that same guy is also intentionally letting his arm blaze out of all control, and the smell of burning meat might start to get to people pretty soon, so normal is vastly overrated and probably ended a while back anyhow.

Faruja (152) has posed:
For a brief moment, the rat's gaze softens. There's sympathy in that eye, before they close. He's silent at first as Crys mentions fighting other's wars. He knows well just how badly that can go. He's seen it in others.

"...I'll not fault your motivations, or your desire for freedom from that endless bloodshed. And perhaps you are right. The Law is indeed often brutal and merciless. However, they can be changed."

His voice drops to a whisper. "And once changed, that Law may well become your people's greatest ally." The smallest of meaningful smiles, gone just as quickly.

"Still, it seems you have a job to do and I a duty to..." He doesn't get much farther as a wave of ice lashes out! Faruja teleports away. His subordinate isn't nearly so lucky. He gets launched into a tree, arms and legs frozen there. Still very much alive, cursing in Ivalician and accusations of Heresy flying.

When Faruja floats back down, there's a block of ice on his right hand. Concentrating, a wave of gravity breaks it, leaving frost and one very limp arm. Seems she might have chilled the nerves to numbness.

Magic flares around him, and there's a growing mystical clock-face that attempts to latch onto Crys and slow her swift movements! It's followed up by a blast from his sidearm, sending a warning shot of burning flame to nip towards her heels. Seems he's aiming for 'Fiery Deterrant'.

Henry Jekyll (1080) has posed:
Well at least the bullets land easily, and they do have an impact. Mister Hyde can recover from them to a degree, but every shot draws blood, every wound takes a little longer to close. They still close, though the marks don't just dissipate, but they have little effect on what Jekyll is doing. Not in the short term, at least.

The brute moves on undeterred. Closing in while being shot at, and picking up a chunk of rock nearby, a big heavy chunk he lifts as a weapon. Unlike Victor, there's no sense of this being anything other than just picking up something convenient to pummel someone with, no grace, no style. Just an overabundance of sheer strength.

Crys Gattz has posed:
Fire it had to come to fire with Faruja. It always did end in fire, didn't it? She's going to have to roll with it and her photone barrier crackles to life taking the brut of the strike. She's still toased a bit she's sticking to somehing that wont' ruin the area however. She end up trying to deal with the debuff maci and it is slowing her down somewhat but she keeos mocving as she moves not to launch into another combination of strikes on Faruja.

"Ya the WORKS crew was the law on my colony and the ran the damn BLACK PAPER!"

Bramble Patch (278) has posed:
More like she was calling you less than the ones spewing such things, but there is no need to fiddle faddle over the nuances of phrasing. Not that Ainsley is trying to correct her. Or say anything in general. "Finally, someone that knows when to stop with the speeching and get on with the -- aw geez!"

Maybe her opponent actually fighting instead of talking isn't entirely a good thing. Bramble jumps back, but the swing is indeed farther reaching that she anticipated as Ainsley's magical maneuvering gives her an extra point or two to reach.

The sword broadsides the Earth Pony across the shoulder, sending her reeling from her failed dodge and tumbling across the ground. Only to land in a heap, twitching and flopping almost comically from the effects of the spell keeping her from getting her legs immeadiately under her again.

"Cupel!" A flying squirrel pops up out of her mane... She has a squirrel living in her mane?? That cannot be sanitary. "Give me a hand here!" Cupel slowly claps his forepaws together. "THAT'S NOT WHAT I MEANT AND YOU KNOW IT! Just distract her a moment." The squirrel hops down from her head and disappears into her vest for a moment, then comes back out to stand on her shoulder with a large clump of -something- that is already emitting visible vapors even as he throws it towards the Paladin.

It doesn't entirely matter if it hits Ainsley, her sword, or just hits the ground near her. On doing so the wad more or less explodes, releasing dusty plumes of nose wrenching, eye watering sulfuric stench! Equal parts smoke and stink bomb by the look of it.

Heinkel Wolfe (Dropped) has posed:
  Dimly, Heinkel is aware that she just fired a lot of bullets into a man who hasn't even slowed down. One alone ought to do that, considering the stopping power of those long-muzzled pistols. The fact that he just ate about two full clips is worrying.

  She's too busy to be worried, however; jerking her guns and ejecting the clips, slapping new ones in with such a practised motion that she could do it in her sleep.

  Oh hey look at that, that sure is a big heavy chunk of rock.

  Heinkel squawks and immediately tries to throw herself out of the way. 'Tries' is the operative word in that sentence, because while she's mostly successful, she doesn't completely avoid the rock. It lands with brutal force on her leg a few inches up from the ankle, producing another sickening 'crack.'

  Spitting a little blood (he may have cracked some teeth) and snarling muddy curses (thankfully mostly incoherent), Heinkel throws herself forward into what is bound to be the makings of an even worse day than she's already having. She doesn't do it recklessly, since she has more sense than that, but she knows that the wounds she sustains will eventually mend themselves in time. It wouldn't do to let this rolling disaster catch up with the likes of Ainsley or Faruja. She's willing to bet they're a little more fragile than she is.

  Heinkel impacts the muscle-man with a grunt of pain and exertion, trying to jam one pistol under his muscled throat and one pistol into his gut, and proceed to try and empty both clips.

  Part of her is wishing she'd asked Anderson to borrow a few of those bayonets of his. Sometimes it's nice to have something to just punch someone with.

Sir Gawain has posed:
As the blade impacts and Gawain realizes that Victor is actually more likely described as 'some sort of combat monster', he can tell this won't be a remotely easy fight. But his face is freed, allowing him to pull back his sw- nope, it's lodged in there, and the lionman has no intention of giving it back. Servants, of course, can dematerialize their weapons. The problem is twofold: one, that is sort of cheating. Two, Gawain forgot about that. So instead, to prevent himself from being flailed around, the Knight of the Sun lets go of his sword and leaps backwards.

And then he spots Victor rip out a chunk of wall and wield it with insane martial prowess, as if it was his blade. Unless Victor has actually trained with brick walls as a weapon (possible), then this man is doing something Gawain has only ever known one person capable of, and for a minute, he grimaces at that thought, because Victor is moving too fast for him to do anything else right now.

This grimace is interrupted by the inevitable impact of that swing, slamming straight into Gawain's chest and sending him flying backwards. The knight skids back on the ground before leaping rapidly to his feet, and taking a look at his opponent, the wall, and the terrain. He needs his blade back, but he's going to need significant force to take it back. And to do that, Gawain starts charging towards Victor...

And diverts straight for the wall, running up and alongside it. And as he does so, he smiles, straight towards the man twice his height. Not a smile of a cocky plan. Not a smile of enjoying a battle. A different type of smile, as he kicks off that wall, aiming straight to grab the handle of his sword, and with the force of the leap, rip the blade straight out of Victor's arm painfully, channelling some more mana into Galatine to keep the burn going.

That was a smile of a man who enjoys life, every single part of it, even when he's being beaten with a brick wall, or fighting a man twice his size with a powerful skill. And it's entirely genuine.

Also, that wall probably has a decent-sized crack in it from the force of the leap. Woops!

Victor Xix (961) has posed:
     Victor Xix Is Loving This Shit.

     If Gawain's smile is the smile of a man who loves life then Victor's feral grin is the grin of a man who is living for the purpose for which hew as born. This is entirely correct - Gawain's appellation of 'combat monster' is entirely, one hundred percent correct. Victor Xix exists to fight. He was *created* to fight. He does not have a thought in his head other than fighting. The idea of imagination is something so pointless to him he's actively quashed it.

     So when Gawain runs up the brick wall he's actively wielding, Victor's first thought is not 'that's impossible,' because that would mean that Victor had enough imagination to imagine something impossible. His first thought is verbalized from those terrifying jaws:

     "Fascinating."

     Gawain grabs the Galatine and *rips* it through Victor's arm.

     Victor's arm falls to the ground. Blood does not pour forth, because Galatine has *cauterized* the arm. There is a loud, meaty *thump* as the huge arm hits the ground, and Victor lets out a thunderous, primordial ROAR, a roar that is the roar of more predators than just a *lion* mixed into that horrible killing machine's DNA.

     Gawain has proven that he does not need quarter.

     Victor will give him none.

     Even as he's reacting to the pain, he's reacting to the battle. Victor ducks down, snatches up his own massive, burning arm, and lunges at Gawain with those missile-launcher legs.

     And he proceeds to put *all of his considerable strength* into hitting Gawain with the arm *so hard* that his arm *explodes* into a shower of blood, bone fragments, and gore in the process.

Faruja (152) has posed:
As the smoke clears, and flame blunted, Faruja blows off the end of his weapon. A glance back, and his two guardians are pretty much still useless. His tail sways, then stills. The rat is certainly scrappy oweing to his early years in Burmecia's slums, but he's by no means a physical powerhouse.

The first few strikes are met with a deftly unsheathed sword-cane! Faruja, unfortunately, is a Temple Wizard by training. His sword skills are entirely defensive, at the best of days. Add his limp into things? And it doesn't take long for those strikes to deprive him of his walking implement. So too is there a squeak of pain as one of those strikes pierces through his sword-hand, sending the /other/ arm wounded to the point of uselessness. He's in a horrible position as a mage.

Nor has he entirely lost track of the battlefield. Heinkel is in an awful position, and yet as far as he's concerned, a perfect one. In spell range. Two twin chants of arcane might, and both Faruja and Heinkel would be shrouded in time-space dilations. Haste and Float respectively settle upon them, gravity having less hold and their bodies moving far more swiftly as time itself speeds for them.

A calculated zealous gamble, and one for which he pays as this lets Cryz lay into him. Only multiple, desperate weightless backpeddles let him skid back with multiple lacerations and bleeding everywhere that isn't entirely vital. He breathes heavily, and as that last strike comes in, it's his legs and sharp toe-claws that whip out.

Faruja is going to try to leg-lock Cryz, and physically bite into her shoulder with sharp rat teeth violently. Rip. Tear. Spit. Ugh.

"...Tell me more. These men reek of Heresy." He once more whispers conspiratorially amdist the horrible melee.

Henry Jekyll (1080) has posed:
With those added bullets ripping holes in the flesh fo Mister Hyde, he's actually staggered for a moment. The wounds still start to close, but it becomes obvious that it's starting to strain his recover rate. And at the same time, his opponent is getting enchanted by someone else, which causes the brute to turn his head slightly towards Faruja.

See, Mister Hyde may fight like a Berserker, may be tough like a Berserker and may be Mad like a Berserker, but he is not a Berserker. He retains sufficient of his faculties to quite clearly understand what Faruja is doing. He's familiar enough with Magecraft to recognize magic is afoot, he even understands what that float spell means, roughly.

Thus the brute's hands reach to grasp Heinkel by her shoulders and with one swift movement he flings her towards the magic rat that is to blame for this enchantment, his aim isn't too bad, and he's putting a lot of force into that.

Ainsley (151) has posed:
    Ainsley is suitably distracted.

    As it turns out, being able to be incredibly stoic throughout her pain and unhappiness does not mean she is immune to overwhelming stench. She steps aside, a movement clearly hindered by how much discomfort she's experiencing, and she fails to get out of range of the cloud of stink gas. It creates a coughing fit and it makes her eyes water, and she staggers out of the cloud of eye-burning sulfuric dust and tries not to throw up all over her uniform right there on the spot, bracing her sword against the ground.

    Then she turns and gives what looks like a golf swing, stepping forward to do this and try to hit the squirrel with the same type of attack she hit Bramble with: A paralyzing sword slap. All she really needs, evidently, is one of those fancy stun batons, because that's what she's using her sword like.

Bramble Patch (278) has posed:
What kind of sound does the flat of a sword hitting a squirrel even make? Whatever it is, it is made as the improvised swing whomps the squirrel off Bramble's shoulder and arcing high into the air. Good thing Cupel is of the flying variety of squirrel, which don't actually fly in the literal sense, but the skin flaps at least make a good natural parachute in this case. Wherever he lands.

It got rid of the distraction, but might not of been the wisest of choices to do so.

That squirrel may be a pet, but it is also one of the few actual friends Bramble Patch has. Seeing him get clubbed like a golf ball is enough of a surge of anger and spite to get the stubborn Earth Pony thrusting herself back onto her hooves despite the shaky effects of the paralysis spell. "Let's see.. how YOU like it!" Bramble rears on her back legs and uses the front to grab the spade off her back, barely leaving long enough to question how she holds that thing with hooves before she's heaving the backside of the shovel end at Ainsley's head!

"Back off before I use this to dig your grave, lizard lips!"

Heinkel Wolfe (Dropped) has posed:
  Heinkel Wolfe is indeed in an awful position. It may be the perfect position as far as Faruja is concerned, but it is a pretty awful position as far as Heinkel is concerned. Her pain levels are through the roof and local anesthesia isn't even an option.

  Oh, right. Local anesthesia isn't even an option. It's been seven years and she still forgets that sometimes until it's too late.

  Thankfully, Faruja's mumbo-jumbo is starting to have an appreciable effect. Heinkel growls low in her throat as gravity lessens its grip on her, and the world seems to slow down around her. Is it the Wolf? --No, she realises; the Wolf is snarling for blood, but she can still think clearly.

  Think she does, but not fast enough. Before she can backpedal away from Mister Hyde, he's already reached out to grab her, speed and brute strength apparently enough to more than surpass the minor enchantment from Faruja. Heinkel makes a strangled sound as her definitely-broken jaw and definitely-broken leg are both jarred in a most unkind fashion. She tries to bring one of those pistols down on Hyde's head, even though she's dimly aware it probably won't have an effect.

  The man is a monster.

  He's as much a monster in this guise as any creature of the night.

  And then before Heinkel can retaliate by pistolwhipping Hyde with her sceond pistol, she's flung through the air with enough speed to send her crashing into Faruja full-tilt. There's an agonised and angry howl all the way as the priest lands in a tangled heap of limbs and guns and an angry, mushy snarl bubbling up from her broken jaw.

  Through some miracle she hasn't lost her sunglasses. Thank the Lord for small favours.

  Lunging forward, Heinkel...

  ...has every intention to eject her clips and reload, but she trips over her own broken leg, going down with an absolutely murderous sound at the back of her throat.

  So she ejects her pistol clips while sprawled in the dust, and slaps new ones into her pistols, firing again at the bulk of Mister Hyde before he has a chance to advance on her. Even the Wolf is beginning to pause through its bloodlust; even its top-notch survival instincts sense that Heinkel is in grave danger if this monstrous man continues the fight.

  All that to say, Heinkel has every intention of ending this battle sooner rather than later, before the next thing he crushes in his bare hand is her head.

Crys Gattz has posed:
Crys didn't expect to get her self into such a fight and she's messing up Faruja fas she's closer up and personal with him fighitng and giving about as good as she can get and he would gind him gettng past her barrier and teating into her shoulder. "Well ofcouse they are not Aujorans are there and no .... ARGG.... have you seen what lurked beyond reaityu Inquisator? I have..." Odd thing to say s she's finding her shoulder whic has got cut up and well? She's not using that arm much now as she attempts to use her good arm to go after Faruja again. "I spent over a decade with the Union and what did they do for me?! My friends are gone, I saw a war that consumed everything it touched and all of that fed that thing /I fought/ On Ragol." She's not entirely with it form the pain as she keeps trying to take Faruja down.

Sir Gawain has posed:
The manuever works. Gawain wasn't sure it would; Victor could have slammed him against the other wall like a pancake, or just swung him away. But he went with it anyways, because it was the best, bravest option he could, and it worked. A bit too effectively, as his arm is split straight off, but the Knight of the Sun is very much under the impression the giant lionman can handle it.

Gawain doesn't get much of a breather, though, because Victor literally handles it. He picks up his arm and strikes Gawain across the face with it, blood, bone, and gore splattering across him and his armor and the sheer force knocking him off his feet. He expected as much this time, allowing him to land on them, albeit wobbily, as he grips his sword. A hit like that, normally, wouldn't have been too much of a setback. But at this time, at /night/? Victor's too much to handle. He should retreat.

But then, they lose. The enemy gets what they want. They could hurt someone. They could do anything. And, to be honest, Gawain can still fight. So he's going to do so. He can't fight the ten-foot tall monsterman normally, but he is now aware that he can put a massive amount of power into his strikes and he will take it.

So, like the brave knight he is, Gawain charges forward, straight for Victor. Sword first, flames roaring as he swings his blade across the lionman's gut with as much power as he can put behind it. And for the first time since he gave his name, Gawain speaks. "'Victor', you are a powerful fighter! But this needs to end! Surrender now, please!" He doesn't expect it to work. But he's wondering what this man feels, what this man thinks.

Victor Xix (961) has posed:
     The blade carves into Victor's stomach. Fire lashes right in, as much power as Gawain can possibly spare. Gawain is a Servant - that is not an insubstantial amount of power. Victor is literally covered in fire, his bare chest, his mane, and every part of him igniting. His cloak turns from a flowing red majesty to a blazing inferno wrapped around his shoulders. His body hair - NOT fur, noticeably - ignites. His flesh bubbles. The cut is cauterized and sizzles, and the smell of burning flesh fills the air.

     "No," is all Victor growls as he reaches down with that single meaty hand, eyebrows catching flame to match his mane, and closes it around Gawain's blade. "I already told you."

     "I am Victor. It is my name."

     Victor shoves the blade forward, pitting his own massive strength against Gawain's in an attempt to knock the wind out of Gawain with his own blade. The flaming sword cuts deep in his remaining hand. He is beyond pain right now. Pain is subservient to the blaze.

     "It is my profession."

     His massive foot comes up towards Gawain's stomach with the same amount of force Victor used to launch himself all over the battlefield. It's a hard, brutal swing, aimed to launch Gawain up into the air as Victor releases Excalibur Galatine.

     "IT IS MY TITLE!"

     Victor is screaming now, a nonstop roar that fills the battlefield with equal parts pain and fury as he tears the blazing cloak off himself. The massive cloak swirls around him, igniting the perfectly-manicured grass, the beautifully-trimmed hedges, the flowerbeds, and everything. It is a holocaust cloak manifest. It swirls around until it lashes upwards, as Victor tries to grab Gawain by the face with that blazing cloak and bring him *slamming* into the wall - and, in the process, destroy what's left of its structural integrity and send it crashing down.

     "AND! IT! IS! /WELL/! /EARNED!!!!/"

     But in the back of his mind, despite the repeated boast, Victor is already tracking his own strength draining away. The loss of his arm hindered his efficiency. The fire is going to keep burning until he puts it out, and he simply can't afford to right now. He's going to be down in no time unless his party can take advantage of this moment, this moment he has bought with fire and blood, with a gut wound and wounds that are RAPIDLY approaching degrees that would kill humans and are CERTAINLY hurting the Greaver.

Faruja (152) has posed:
Today is not Faruja Senra's day. The blonde-Paladin Heinkel is hucked at him (successfully!) like a sack of gysahl greens. Crys slashes and tears into him just before impact. He bleeds red, falling back as he teeters on the edge of consciousness. His good eye first widens at Heinkel's alarming approach, followed by a narrowing of his eye towards Crys. A brief, muttered prayer for Crys and Heinkel alike. He's aware that things aren't going to go well for himself.

Crys would find that her attacks rip into armor and flesh without resistance. Instead, in the chaos, he'll try to secretly slip his radio number into the woman's pocket.

His voice is a whisper. "...Sorry, my dear. Enlighten me some time. The Law. Is. A weapon of the righteous." He offers, before there's the sound of one heavier body impacting a much more magely one. Heinkel hits, sending Faruja into a tumbling ball of ratty injuries and curses. Just before he finally falls still and blacks out, there's a bloody-toothed incantation.

A Comet hangs low, racing for Crys to hopefully blow her back. He wasn't exactly aiming well or trying for help, given he'd just been smacked with a flying Werewolf-Iscariot. Faruja lands in a jumble, spell away, one leg in a very unnatural position.

Ainsley (151) has posed:
    *CLANG*

    Ainsley is still distracted by the scent and her burning eyes and she hasn't much capacity to properly avoid another hit. When she spots it, it's about a half second too late and she puts her arms up but completely fails to defend herself. So she stumbles back and lands on her butt in the dirt and feels her balance dance and her mind rattle in her head, and realizes that her nose just got smashed so she dribbles blood all over herself continuously.

    She pushes herself up to her feet, growling through the pain and discomfort and trying to tackle Bramble. And she tries to cast the spell once again, but one more hit could render her useless to a further fight. But instead of the sleep paralysis, she does something else.

    She tries to cast empathy into Bramble, skipping all pretense of words in the middle of the fight.

    Ainsley pours a bucket of emotional energy into Bramble. Frustration. Dedication. Fear. Hope. She just wants the fighting to stop. She doesn't want to fight.

    ("Please, just stop. There are ways to get what you need that don't need violence. Please!")

    Ainsley loves her Emotion Bomb spell. It has never, ever gone wrong before if you discount all the times where it has gone horribly wrong.

Henry Jekyll (1080) has posed:
Mister Hyde is a monster in more than one sense of the word. Even though he's clearly wounded, clearly feeling the hits from every bullet that hits him, staggering slightly at every blow, he is not deterred. In fact, he's smirking, a wide toothy grin that only further serves to emphasize that this bulky figure of a man represents the very worst that mankind has to offer. Cruelty and masochism, both, he's enjoying himself.

And perhaps, that may be the only saving grace Heinkel has. They might never know, because as he approaches he seeks to grab the werewolf by the throat, trying to keep his grip steady enough not to crush it, but firm enough to be unpleasant. It's an uncomfortable balance, he doesn't quite know his own strength. "You are fun."

Then, he adds on, "So go, run, so we can do this again sometime." His hand briefly twitches stronger, to emphasize that he means it, and then he flings Heinkel aside.

Crys Gattz has posed:
Crys Gattz says "And a tool of the wicked." She syas nothing else as the come comes for her and Crys isn't abkle to get clear she was too up close she was too locked on to fighting Faruja when thecomet comes it catches het and sends her flying the Numan skids acors the gournd there are likely crushed or cracked bones but her barrier /did/ active which kept her rib cage from being crushed out right but she's not going to be getting up for a bit. The one eyed Newman isn't getting up anytime soon.

Heinkel Wolfe (Dropped) has posed:
  Heinkel is flung bodily into Faruja. It is very painful. Probably for both of them, but it is very painful for her at the moment. There are at least two major bones broken that she would really prefer not have been broken, and they are complaining very loudly at her that /they/ would really prefer not to have been broken.

  All that to say, Heinkel is in agony and today is really starting to reach critical mass for being an awful day.

  Heinkel crumples into the rat priest, while her wounds noisily protest such rough treatment. Before she has a chance to clear the starbursts from her eyes (her sunglasses are blessedly still in place), she's hoisted by the throat. She can't help but bare her teeth in answer to that grin, but it's more of a snarl on her face.

  In response to Hyde declaring that she's fun, Heinkel raises a shaking arm and attempts to shoot the man, point blank, in the forehead. The shot veers wide, but maybe the bullet cut him on its way past. She hopes so.

  The world is starting to dim. Spots dance at the edges of her vision. It darkens even more when Hyde squeezes his fist around her throat.

  Heinkel soars with the grace of a sack of potatoes, and lands in a pile of agony somewhere close to where Ainsley is. The temptation to pass out is /unreasonably/ strong, but alas, she has no control over that reflex, and so she wheezes something unintelligable at Ainsley's (and probably Bramble Patch's) feet (and hooves).

  She's still conscious, but sweet Christ her everything hurts too much to move.

Sir Gawain has posed:
Gawain knew, knew deep inside, that this was a dangerous plan. But he's a knight; he can't just leave combat against a dangerous monster like this and let him do what he wants. He's been forced into a horrible position, and his attempted attack backfires terribly.

Victor easily grabs Gawain's blade and takes control of it. Gawain is at his mercy as he's knocked into the air, stabbed in the stomach with his own sword, and then ignited painfully with his own flames, followed by being slammed into the wall and devastating it. He now knows exactly what kind of man Victor is: one who knows nothing but fighting, and winning. But at the same time, he realizes, inside, through the pain wracking every nerve, what Victor is doing.

As the smoke and the flames leave his face, Gawain is left in the rubble...but he's conscious, barely. And he's smiling, widely. Victor was a worthy opponent, even if Gawain lost, even if he could have died there. The knight attempts to rise to his feet, to keep fighting, but his body refuses, leaving him where he is. The remains of his radio lie to his side. Sir Gawain will not forget this fight.

Faruja (152) has posed:
Impacts are awful. There's no response to Faruja's opponent. No, there's only a myriad of pained squeaks at the world. Most of which end up going towards Heinkel by mere physical location.

Just before he's out, the rat mutters amidst sounds of Burmecian-anatomy contorting in ways not meant by Faram, "...Lord...curse this Multiverse and it's demons!" Whump. The rat is a fuzzy landing pad for poor Heinkel at least. He doesn't move at all, except for labored breaths.

Bramble Patch (278) has posed:
It doesn't take much to see that Bramble Patch is still suffering some hinderance from that spell she was literally slapped with. After clonking Ainsley with her spade she thunks the point into the ground and leans forward on it with a few hissing huffs. Physically she's not all that hurt, but contending with the effects of the spell and her own rage at seeing her little friend launched off is taking a toll on her stamina.

Cupel is mostly okay by the way. Just landed waaaaaaay off in the background out of the fight. No squirrels were seriously harmed in the making of these scene!

Then Ainsley comes back into things, tackling her with an emotional bombshell so to speak, one filled with Hope and Dedication and all sorts of powerful empathic force as the two topple over.

Except what Ainsley gets back is a very different onset of emotions. Bitterness at being outcast from her own family because she couldn't grow 'normal' plants like Earth Ponies normally do. Anger at never getting the respect she deserved. Resentment at the entity that promised her such things up and vanishing literally into the night. Frustration at the loss of direction and purpose. And mingled in there stubborn Determination to impress her new allies before they decide to the same.

"STOP SCREWING WITH MY FEELINGS!" Bramble almost literally screams in Ainsley's ear, if lizards had such external things.

And, being an equine, abiet one that can talk and think for herself, Bramble does what comes naturally to having someone trying to grapple with her magically messing with emotions.

Thrash around to buck her off. Abiet exhausting herself farhter in the process of doing so.

Victor Xix (961) has posed:
     Victor is still on fire.

     This is now moving from an inconvenience to a pain to staggering agony. His vision is hazy, not only from the pain but from the actual fire. He's pretty sure the liquid in his eyeballs is going to start boiling soon. Unfortunately, it's advanced this far, so he can't do much about it. Fire is going to be his life for the next few minutes, minutes that are going to feel like an eternity.

     His cloak will be no help. It is on fire. He slings it around his neck anyway, because at worst, it can join the burning, and it has become something he is comfortable having, so if he is going to suffer he will suffer with it.

     A blazing icon of destruction, the Greaver strides slowly forward, his gait well-concealing his agony. Every step burns away the grass around him like a twisted god, making a desert of a fertile ground.

     He pushes his way through the gap in the wall and looks around.

     The guards would be wise to run. They probably are. Victor is in no condition to pursue even normal humans.

     "The way is clear," Victor reports, "The mission is accomplished."

     He gathers the last of his strength in his leg. All of it - all of what he has left - is focused right there.

     His foot *slams* down on the ground, a shower of dirt erupting around him as he leverages his strength for the most impromptu fire extinguishing in his history. Dirt settles around his body and his cloak, smothering the flames as best it can. It puts him out from a blaze to a mere smoldering, which is going to have to be good enough.

     The Greaver falls to both knees and exhales, expelling literally superheated air from his lungs. He does not breathe back in until the night air has dispersed the heat from his own flames, at which point it no longer matters, because standing is going to take a lot more than a few breaths to get back to.

Ainsley (151) has posed:
    Ainsley hears that, and Bramble would get a glimmer of an emotion -- a familiar defeated sensation, as if this isn't the first time this has backfired on the lizard -- before the lizard wizard is brought up into the air, and then slammed into the ground by the pony. She got a little air time because she is not really that heavy of a creature. When she hits the ground, she does not get up.

    Ainsley wheezes, still conscious, but much like Heinkel, Faruja and Gawain, she wishes she wasn't conscious. She puffs and coughs and shivers.

    "This went poorly," she murmurs, barely able to form words at this point. At least she didn't get hit in the face as hard as Heinkel did.

Bramble Patch (278) has posed:
She is so wrapped up in her tantrum that Bramble Patch doesn't immeadiately notice Ainsley is no longer upon her person, and it's a moment's delay before she stops thrashing about. Turns to shoot one last glare in the lizard's direction.

"No one.. ever got... anything... for stopping..."

Then the pony turns and walks away dramatically.

Or at least that's what she thinks of doing in her head. In reality, she gets about three steps before the rush of emotions wears off enough for exhaustion to set in, on top of that paralyzing spell still lingering. So instead of an epic departure she ends up stopping, twitching a few timers, and then falls over flatly face first.

"This isn't stopping it's just a breather!"

Unfortunately the paralysis has had no apparent effect on her mouth.

Henry Jekyll (1080) has posed:
As the fight is over, and mister Hyde is running low on Prana due to the sheer cost of repairing all those wounds, he falls to his knees and shrinks, returns to a more normal size, returns to be an unassuming gentleman, a bleeding one admittedly, and then he slowly but surely makes his way past the wall, using the opportunity Victor provided, and slumps into the glade, he can't rush like this, but he makes it there.

Then, he sets up a camera and some other sensory equipment, and dematerializes. He's not taking it from its place.

He's gambling on these people taking the forbidden ground serious, and allowing the equipment to observe it in peace.

Na`Sabal-Une Fang (367) has posed:
     A short while later, the cavalry arrives! Lead by Na`Sabal-Une Fang! Nasa flits quickly over to the location of her injured allies, taking stock of their various levels of injury and similar. She is, actually, holding a spatula. She doesn't bother making use of it, though! Instead, she lifts her hands and begins to focus her energy, speaking in the ancient language of the Forest. It roughly translates to 'Earth, wake up and carry these people around for me' with a few other mystic words thrown in that may or may not actually mean anything. "It may sting a little; as the earth jerks and lifts from the ground." She warns. "It won't sting for long, though." She adds, carefully unrolling a small cloth vial-holder and picking different strengths of painkilling/healing enhancement potions. One for each of the fallen allies.