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Tamamo     The town could have been in any Old Country in Europe, sometime after gas lighting became popular, and before electric. Two and three story buildings line chokingly tight, cobbled streets, laid down as they had been since centuries past, rather than by any planner with a compass and measure. The 'expected' scenery, for those from the usual lines of Earth, is marred by the inclusion of dark-painted, bipedal or many-legged combat vehicles, things of hard and smooth metal with articulated cannon mounts and thin viewports. In places, they stalk the streets, not yet organized for what else is here. Infantry support them in organized squads, men laden down with sensors, radios, guns, ammo, and armor that's seen wear.

    Toward the edge of the town, knights ride in full armor, gleaming steel and pennons held high. They're accompanied by a greater number of men and women in lighter armor, heraldric coats covering chainmail, carrying a no lesser number of weapons than the other soldiers. Swords, crossbows, chains, flails, knives, and rods of wood, of metal, or of both, long and short, capped with animal statuettes in gold or silver.

    Part of the reason for both groups moving must be that third group, the most obvious possible of bad vibes. Beasts of great variety charge through the streets. Rats, wolves, boars, at least one bear, perhaps dozens of cats. All of them look maimed, even rotting, bone visible here and there. They move without fear or sense of pain, and the slow and the unlucky townsfolk may as well be food-that-walks. Humanoid dead-walkers aren't yet anywhere to be seen, but everyone here knows this is just the first wave of a disaster. Some are boarding up their windows, while others grab their children and try to reach the town's edge.

    There are at least three distress calls that could be easily identified. One goes to a historic-looking building with an anachronistic radio antennae, identifying a Mr. Serban, town alderman, who is still in the middle of a frantic talk of 'demons' and 'necromancers.' One goes to a very boring box-cement-style military encampment, belonging to the Citizens Republic of Ceres, talking about an 'act of naked aggression' and 'military invasion.' The third belongs to the very party complained of in the second call, identifying a 'priestess Rodica' of the Holy Kingdom of Valcea, who makes a rote call for aid in putting down a 'demonic cult.' She's passionate about the evils her party targets as enemies of all humanity, though she seems more confident of their chances to win unaided than either of the other two calls.
Janine Liberi     A figure descends from the skies, planting their foot against the old radio antenna to slow their fall as they slide down it. Alighting on the roof of that old building, they look out at the horizon around them. Rotting beasts, armed knights, combat mechs. This place is going to be crushed between the three forces, unless something is done.

    Words whisper on the wind, and a frightful figure erupts from nothingness behind the one from the sky. They raised cuffed hands and wiggle their fingers. All across the town, strange winds begin to howl. As if emanating from the centre of town, they push at the backs of citizens going to flee, but shove at monsters trying to enter.

    With a nod, the figure on the roof slips into the building through an open window, seeking out Mr. Serban. Upon meeting the man on the radio, she introduces herself. "Janine Liberi," she says, all tousled curly brown hair, a left arm in a sling, and a military sabre at her waist. "Here to help. This place is about to become a warzone, and I get the feeling the forces mounting on opposite sides don't care a jot about you and yours caught in the middle."
Gawain This is a tough situation, but one Gawain responds to anyways. After weighing through his three choices, he decides to travel towards Priestess Rodica, at the edge of town, dressed in his full formal suit and armor. Even if they're in the wrong, learning their side of the story is best, and he's a knight, so he's best-suited towards discussing with them. Once he gets to them, he makes a formal greeting, and then.

"Sir Gawain, Knight of the Sun, Warden of the Paladins. Well-met! I've heard there's problems with a demonic cult and the local authorities. Is that the case?" His sword is summoned to his side, as he smiles lightly. The sword is just there to show his proof that he is, in fact, a warrior knight.
BB BB has three amazing choices! Wow! Normally, where she's from, you only get your choice of two options and they BBoth end up in the same place. What a refreshing twist! It's so exciting!

And, of course, everyone knows what side BB picks - Knights & Magic!

Appearing before the Holy Kingdom's great arrayed armies with shining pennants, is a cherry-pink large tube that slowly bdoo-bdoo-bdoo's through the ground like plumbing-themed portal.

Out from the top rises BB, fists on hips, power stanced, laughing.

"Do-ho-ho-ho! Look at this BBeautiful army! And look! Knight Gawain! Yooo-hoo, Gawain! Chaddy Daddy~!" She expressively waves at the blond cloak-wearing knight she recognizes. "Is King Arthur here too? Is it the BBustier version with the lance, or the flat one, with the sword? I'm excited! Ne, ne, Gawain-kun, you should tell these people to break up their formation, otherwise they'll get totally thrashed once the Anti-Army Phantasms start flying!"
Tamamo     Janine quickly finds Serban in the upper floor of the building, directly below the radio mast. He definitely looks like an alder, with his bent back and grey beard. The air's on the chilly side, and he's bundled up in soft robes. Though startled, he soon puts down the radio equipment occupying his attention, and turns it to her. "Ohh... oh! Thank all the lights of heaven!" He appears to be immediately accepting of her sincerity. It might be related to his continuing desperation. "That's right, that's right. Those belters don't know how to deal with this, or it wouldn't have happened at all. Now it's too late, so the church will just be happy to burn the bodies. There are so many too old to run. That's why we're all still here." He sounds like he's talking about more than just today's events, but is too worked up to explain things in order. "What can we do? They won't listen to the townsfolk. They'll just keep hunting until they're sure the necromancer is dead. And how are they going to be sure, when anyone could be an acolyte?" Though elated a moment ago, now he's inches away from a breakdown.

    Outside, those who were able to flee are able to do so a fair bit better. Some escape by a hair's breadth, who wouldn't have otherwise made it at all. Teeth snap on nothing instead of dragging them down by their ankles.
Lilian Rook     Given that there are three factions in this picture, at least three people are required to do something about it. This neatly informs Lilian's decision to handle it (as the preferred people she'd leave it to are currently occupied), because which camp Gawain will want to see is obvious.

    Minor correction. The fact is that there are only two factions that particularly matter to her, and only one person here whom she feels she can rely on. But it works out the same!

    To be even more correct, the specific kind of 'disagreement' she'd heard just now over the broadband waves is intimately familiar to her. The kind that seems far too petty for the ostensible powers of both sides involved, which one would assume would come to nothing much, but is in fact very likely to cost lives if left unaddressed. She takes after the pillbox command center, ostensibly dedicated to 'Onsalva provisional command'. She'd cut down some zombies on the way, but she doesn't 'make a way' there at all.

    Lilian 'simply appears' at the gate, past the outer checkpoint, distantly thankful for her default (subsidized) choice of combat wear definitely resembles the futuristic over the archaic, and doubly thankful for a zombie problem being more of a 'strapped with ammo' issue than an 'openly wearing Night Mist' one. Dealing with the possibly inevitable (but who knows) anthill response from a command camp is, by now, not very difficult for her to handle with professionally feigned stoicism. She demands to be taken to the Captain. She is Extremely Convincing in doing so. Able to effortlessly project the incredibly convincing idea that she Belongs Here and has something Very Important To Tell Him without saying it outright.
Tamamo     Rodica does not turn out to be someone carrying a radio. Since she is clearly communicating over radio channels, it's either a hidden device, or they just have the right interface magic, here. In fact, nobody is carrying anything that could possibly be electronic.

    "Hail, Warden! By all means, your sword is welcome. We go to hunt down the cult that has dared showed its face." A rather pretty woman in her 20s, with light brown hair, priestess Rodica does not otherwise look too much like a priestess. She's wearing the same chain armor underneath the probably-religious imagery of her coat, and her outfit includes a lot of straps and pockets for weapons and miscellany. The meter-long rod with the silver cap of a roaring lion's face is probably also magical.

    It's a man near her, one of the heavily armored knights, who raises his visor and responds. "Well met, sir Gawain! I am named Emilian, of the house Darie. You must speak of those men of Ceres who now control Onsalva. Would that we rode to oust them, but our duty is to destroy the cult, before the whole town is lost. Alas, they would rather see folk dead than yield. An incompetent lot. Feel free to deal with them as you wish." There's enough of a hostile edge to how he says 'Ceres' to be ominous. There's definite history here.

    "They cannot stop us. Yet, be wary." Rodica adds.

    BB causes a much greater commotion with her mode of entry, and possibly also of not being a knight. She is, fortunately, also not a lot of other things they're specifically on edge about, and immediately starts talking about kings and lancers. Horsese shy around the instantaneous-travel piping, but soon start moving again, as Emilian of Darie concludes that she and Gawain must be together. He answers what may not have been a real question, "King Arthur? No, hasn't he been dead for centuries?"
Janine Liberi     Serban is a little too panicked, but Janine is a smart girl, she can figure it out. There's a necromancer loose (hence the rotting animals attacking people), the knights are rolling out to suppress the threat (by burning down everything), and the mecha people see this as an act of aggression. It's all very stupid and political, rattling sabres while the unfortunate commonfolk die.

    "I got it," Janine says with all the confidence that only a teenager can muster. "But right now, those knights are on the hill. Those monsters are on the streets. They need to go first. You and your people come first. Sorry, but I might ding up your streets and buildings, but they can be replaced. Lives can't. Put the word out; people who haven't made it out should hunker down. Basements where possible.""

    She leaps out the window once more. Catherine arises behind her, suspending Janine on swirling winds as she hovers above the buildings. It's a big sprawling town, which means she has more ground to cover, but more places to arrange her traps. Instantly, she begins flying at incredible speeds, staying low to the ground as Catherine whips up cyclonic winds behind her, all the while lashing thin golden threads between buildings, wrapping around gaslights, post boxes, anything secured and sturdy.

    Any raised animals she flies by are launched into the air, only for the threads to tighten, wrapping around their necks and limbs to suspend them. Undead creatures tend to have no preservation instinct, so Janine is banking on them struggling against the thin, sharp threads until they mince themselves, saving her the effort of putting them down once by one.

    On her patrols, she keeps an eye out for the town graveyard. There's a lot of animals, probably sourced from the nearby wilderness. But the source of them, upon seeing their undead army under threat, will seek reinforcements from the nearest source.
Tamamo     Lilian is able to cut through a lot of probable issues by being Very Convincing. She's challenges, indicates that she is important and supposed to be here, is saluted (hand-over-heart rather than fingers-to-brow) and then brought quickly to the command room, because that's where everyone else important currently is and they aren't willing to leave, at the moment, for any reason.

    There aren't as many big screens as one might expect. There are a few, but more people are jacked directly into machines through spinal-mounted neural interfaces than otherwise, eyes flicking over outwardly invisible data, muttering mnemonics and responses, and occasionally tapping at blocky, physical keyboards. There's no paper strewn over the table around which some of the soldiers argue, but doing away with meeting tables altogether must be a more difficult cultural tradition to toss. You can tell who's in charge because they're the oldest, sternest, and aren't carrying anything bigger than the ubiquitous sidearm. One of them looks up.

    "Who's this?"
    "Respondant for the distress call, sir."
    "So, someone actually showed? Didn't think we'd reach the ballpark of 'good news.' I'm captain Neoklis Hondros. Pardon the lack of welcome, but what can you do for us, today? We've got monsters on one side, civilians dying, and sun-tossed wizards on the other." Sounds like a local invective. "And we can't get rid of /undead rats/ without blasting apart every alleyway in the city."
Gawain As BB arrives, Gawain doesn't recognize her on sight, but recognizes her on voice, and gives her a wave. He responds to Emilia. "Understood! Ah, BB, well-met in person! Ah, my king is well but not currently here, she's..." He stops. Busty? No, no, don't think of your king that way, Gawain! "S-she's got the lance, yes. -ah, Emilian, I apologize for the confusion, I am from a different world! I am a knight of King Arthur, you see."

The knight moves to walk alongside the horses. If they speed up, he runs, showing superhuman ability. "Good idea, BB! Let's see if radio helps with that. I'll get out a message to them."
BB "Well of *course*, sillies!" BB laughs, as the cherry blossom pink warp pipe retreats back into the earth, leaving her standing on the ground. "I'm not talking about the *living* King Arthur! I mean his kind!"

She points at Gawain, taking a running start to leap at Gawain in a rather overfriendly spinning flying tackle-hug that, due to Gawain's stature, weight, and stance, just cause her to power-BBomb herself into Gawain's arms.

He is unmoving, like the lynchpin of Rhongominyad.

Except for the part where he's jogging along with horses. BB, meanwhile, taps his chin and grins. "This one is the wielder of the holy BBlade of the planet and sun, Excalibur Galatine. Since this is a BBattle under the light of the sun, victory is assured! So, ne ne, knight-tempai~!"

An almost incomprehensible portmanteau of 'Knight Templar' and 'Sempai' slips from BB's lips.

"Spread out and keep up!"
Lilian Rook     "Lilian Rook." says Lilian Rook, immediately, upon being addressed, giving up Dame Commander in exchange for "Immaculate Extinguisher rank Blade Crimson, West European Immune Corps." Her affect isn't changed too much. 'My Charisma score is yes.' 'I am an expert.' 'Everything I say is true.' 'You shall not fuck about, or else proceed directly to finding out.'

    "I'm aware of the outer contours of the situation, captain. What I need to know is more specific." she begins. "The situation doesn't allow for much time finding a political solution; people are in danger of being killed the longer we exchange words. What I need to know is who is going to be killed now or after because of whoever it is parked out on the ridge. I get the idea that your territoriality applies here. I also get the idea that you don't have this fully in hand, but I have no reason to believe those ones will be any better, yet."

    "I have something for the rats; the undead aren't something I commonly deal with, but it shouldn't be complicated. All this talk about demons, though; you understand that would be fairly serious, yes?" Though the neural jacks cause her to inwardly grimace, Lilian does hedge on offering further similarities through tech, by removing the smart device from her collar, putting it on the table, projecting the visual footage captured from the air, freezing the frame, and continuing with "I need you to pinpoint where you're about to move troops, where you need to hold them, and any information you have on the movement of the walking corpses in the last hour and a half. Any leads you have on the root cause, I'll take as well." She then gestures to the other camp. "Lastly, I need to know who those are, why they can't be allowed in, and what problems they're about to cause."
Tamamo     Serban nods to Janine. "I can do that. That, I can do! Basements, most everyone knows a cellar." He turns away and gets back to his radio equipment. Those who can hear him, and who have a mind to listen to a town alderman, will be heading as low as they can go to wait this out. The streets are clearing, but there are so many streets, which once held so many people, and the ones already outside don't hear the call to head back in.

    Meanwhile:
    "A holy blade? Really?"
    "Just look at him. Isn't it? Powered by the light!"
    "Wide-ranged attacks? Are we expecting a dragon?"
    Someone else laughs, but then another of the knights is barking orders.
    "Form up!"
     From another priest, "Seven together!"

    The groups must have been decided before hand, because they all do split up into groups of seven without further need for argument. The groups then spread farther apart, each making for a different point of the town's wall. It's not a particularly modern or impressive wall, and there are buildings on the outside of it, but it's still more than twenty feet high.

    This doesn't prove to be too much of an issue. One within each group chants a spell that smells of incense, and the whole party leave their horses behind, leaping ten feet at a time to scale the obstacle. Emilian of Darie just runs straight up the wall while drawing his sword. Only one of the parties has the convenience of moving through an actual gate, through which the townsfolk had been steadily streaming at their individual paces. The knights and entourage move with the force of so many steam locomotives, in comparison, denting stone walls and shattering cobbles in their passing.

    The knights haven't yet run into Janine's traps, but that's only a matter of 'not very much' time, as they're heading that way to deal with the undead. The ones nearby are already dealt with, her guess about their lack of pain and determination to keep moving regardless of damage being spot on. Some of them merely lose limbs, but those are still sufficiently crippled that they're not going to be chasing down any able-bodied humans before something else finishes them off. Others are tangled up completely, and once reduced to small enough pieces, the light of unlife disappears from their eyes, snuffed out like tiny flames. Things then get worse.
Tamamo     First, a CRC patrol encounters one of the knight squads. Articulated weapon mounts swivel with automatic precision and open fire. A man with a staff throws out what looks like a handful of sand, but expands into a field of flashing flame and roiling smoke. Targets lost, the squat bipedal mecha starts rapidly backpedaling while tracking, only to fail to bring its guns up in time before a man launched out of the smoke stabs a two-handed sword straight through the viewport, the reentry-grade window not even appreciably slowing down the uncannily accurate blade. It's fire from the infantry support that gets the knight, with both parties withdrawing back down other streets. No hesitation or warning is given by either side.

    Next, there is the problem that no graveyard exists within the town. If they have one, it's somewhere outside the walls. Though there is a spire that might belong to a church, its surrounding lot is too small to contain plots for burial, and there's no sign of anyone at all being in its vicinity. And yet, a second wave of undead do appear, to the surprise of very possibly no one. These have a great deal more flesh, but it's not definitively human flesh. It's roughly humanoid. Too many vertebrae. Spiny protrusions. Larger skulls, oddly shaped, extra teeth. Extra-large teeth. Claws and spurs for every joint that can take them. The light in their eyes is a bit different, and they're not yet trying to eat anyone. They leap from point to point, bounding with all four limbs, not unlike animals, and Janine is one choice target.

    So is the first CRC patrol to find them, though while a pair of infantrymen are slashed to pieces at the back of their formation, the walking robot doesn't get done in this time, and automatic fire turns out to still be largely effective. Mostly. They do have mass, and putting enough kinetic energy into one midleap throws it far away.

    To someone with enough information or paying close enough attention, it's possible to figure out the epicenter once the second wave begins. It's inside the town, but not in any building of note. Just a row of ordinary houses all stacked up against each other. There's nothing properly alive in that area, at least visible from the air.

    For Lilian, and those in the command center, focusing all efforts on that question makes it possible to figure out the same just a little before then, which gives her a slightly wider window in which to act on it, less time spent getting other information.

    "Them? Valcea. You'll get it if I just say 'inquisition,' right? They haven't crossed the armistice line in force in all the years since we laid it down, so now it's bloody war again." There's complex, conflicted feelings among all the people here on that topic, though only a few let it show on their faces. Most of it is some combination of 'finally' and 'oh, god, no.' There's also an air of distrust toward her over her clear unwillingness to immediately condemn the other side, though it's not so much, under the circumstances, that she can't override it with Charisma.

    "They're just what we don't need. What we NEED is to cut out the control hub, the 'summoner,' and let the dead drop. It can't be far away, and it's always a person. Probably hidden right in the city. That'll cut through their excuses and let us wrap up."

    The moments when the patrols clash, with both inquisitors and undead, are likewise caught by the command center, and nobody at all is happy about it. Orders are given, with Lilian able to listen and see as they conveniently point around the city map for her, as every new piece of target data results in other patrols being rerouted.
Gawain BB jumps into Gawain's arms, and he barely reacts. He *reacts*, sure, and thinks this is weird, but a cute lady asking to be carried to the battlefield is fine. He'll let her down whenever she's ready, with a smile. A true gentleman knight.

Whether or not BB is ready to stop being princess carried, Gawain is about to let her down. But first, he'll get her over that wall. "Hold on, BB!"

Gawain buckles his knees, and then jumps, launching the two to the top of the wall with superhuman sun-bound strength. Once they land, wobbly drop, and descend, he sets her down gently. "Are you alright?"

And then, it's time to form up and move. As the Ceres patrols are moving, Gawain draws his sword, and moves to try and wave them down. "Hold on! We can talk this out!"

They will almost certainly shoot him, and he'll have to deflect bullets away from himself (and BB, if she hasn't wandered off). He'll start advancing, his armor shining off the light to just make it hard to actually hurt him, and try to cleave down guns and cannons where possibly instead of taking lives.
Janine Liberi     Janine looks on with satisfaction as she loops around, finding unmoving chunks below some bloody strings. Good. She can handle this. And there are less and less people on the streets. Serban must have succeeded. Now she can really work.

    The knights and technophiles breach the walls, and she briefly considers putting up wind walls against but, as of right now they just kill each other first, and the undead second. That's fine, they can murder each other for all she cares. But as she flies about, one of the second wave of undead leap at her. She pulls up sharply, causing it to go sailing beneath her, and blasts it towards a spiked fence with a burst of wind. "The second wave... but I didn't find a graveyard? Where..."

    She begins flying in circles again, high up to stay out of their jump range, and finds the cluster of houses. There doesn't seem to be anything alive in there, and hopefully anyone around has gone to their cellar...Janine takes the risk, and calls down a small tornado, winds ripping at the houses to pull them apart. She's not about to enter a confined space that might have more of those things. No, they come out.
BB Carried to the BBattlefield in the arms of easily the most Chad Knight of the Round Table, BB is more than pleased at the reaction of the knights. So, she starts... singing.

"Gawain, he's here, the sunlight BBe his guide!"
"Gawain, don't fear, when heroes hit their stride!"
"Gawain, wow-wow! His sword's a glowing white!"
"Gawain, HE'S HERE!"

BB disappears from Gawain's arms, floating along rubbing his shoulders and fluffing his big furry cape, as he hits the intersection Lilian had chosen.

Suddenly, it's not just Daytime: It's High Noon. Above, the sun shines brilliantly down and sends cloudbreaking godrays into the square Knight Gawain advances into.

"Evil will take flight~!" She finishes, skidding to a stop and waves glow-sticks on the side. "Yeah! Yeah yeah! Today's wish is the stage for the golden knight of Camelot, Gawain of the Round Table, to destroy~ all~ evil~!"
Gawain If and when Gawain reaches the intersection with BB, he reflexively poses out with his sword. It's charming, goofy, and knightly all at once, as he stretches it out and makes a resolute, neutral expression on his face.
Lilian Rook     "I do." is the only reply Lilian needs for the comparison to an inquisition. She really does. No amount of whammy could evince that dry, subvocalized 'oh. I see.' quite as perfectly well as her genuine feelings of reflex on the subject. "I'll have to ask about the history of that Armistice Line later, but it seems wildly inappropriate to break that for the initial stages of an outbreak in a town of this size. Consider the idea that there may be something far more dangerous than we currently anticipate buried in a basement somewhere --that is, if you believe they're the sort who'd refuse to even mention it despite how much effort it'd save everyone. It sounds as if they may be."

<J-IC-Scene> Lilian Rook says, "Gawain."
<J-IC-Scene> Gawain says, "What's the situation?"
<J-IC-Scene> Gawain says, "I've been pushing forward with the knights for the time being." where the vanguards are meeting. I need you to make a scene. Nice words can come after; you need to draw as much attention as possible within these key points. Furthermore, you can't attack one-sidedly. The inquisitors on your side are unwelcome extranationals trying to perform vigilante religious justice, by the looks of it. Use your brain and think up something they'll have to stop fighting each other for a minute over."
<J-IC-Scene> Lilian Rook says, "I have the location of the summoner."
<J-IC-Scene> Gawain says, "Understood!"
<J-IC-Scene> Lilian Rook says, "If Liberi is there, and still feeling high and mighty, she can feel free to donate her brain to the cause as well."
<J-IC-Scene> Lilian Rook says, "Lord knows the poor knight may need it in this situation."

    "Please give your men the order to avoid engaging the enemy around a knight they'll obviously recognize as not being from around here, unless pressed by needs of self-defense; he's my informant I've planted in the enemy camp, and while I have strong faith in the thickness of his skull, I'd rather not have him bombed in the crossfire." Lilian says. "Anyone else is fair game, though. Once the present crisis is in-hand, I'll test the character of your problem visitors myself."

    "Fourth code, first verse. 'Thou shalt treat with the laws of the land in good faith, and substitute not thy own.' And the second code. 'Thy station is thee and thou art thy station. Speak always with its authority, and do not speak that which would tarnish it.'"

    Swiping her device back, Lilian half-bows on her way out of the command bunker, heads for the gate, picking up speed, and the moment she's out of sight, she 'teleports' straight to the cluster of buildings that form the suspicious ground zero on the full map. Upon arrival, she swiftly carves what she needs into a small number of auspiciously placed doors and windows, and posts heavy black crows over a handful of steeples and balconies. The latter is simply to look for anything leaving or entering. The former is to boost the efforts of her divination in pinpointing the route She Herself needs to take to reach the one object target she has burning in her mind right now.

    Likely starting by kicking down a door and phasing through a floor.
Tamamo     Gawain gets over the wall in style, showing up every other wall-jumping knight in the process, not that they seem to mind. They're busy with some of the same matters as he. The moment a patrol group spots him, they take cover around the corners of narrow streets and open fire, including a spider-like six-legged walker the size of a car that runs up the side of a building. The rounds coming his way aren't beyond his ability to deflect, but they're clearly not willing to talk, listen, come into conversational range, or even into comfortable shouting range, instead keeping distance and falling back when they fail to take him out. All except the spider-bot, which badly underestimates Gawain's maximum striking speed and jumps down in a reckless bid to hit him point-blank with the kind of flamethrower that would flash-melt steel from a hundred feet away. That gives him the opportunity to step in and strike off its weaponry, though he'll have to decide how to deal with the attack, first.

    Assuming he survives (which is very likely, for a Sunlit Sun Knight), Gawain then makes it to an appointed intersection, at which BB ensures he makes a big show of his presence. This goes over amazingly well with the inquisitive knights and curiously well with the priests. Not many have time and vantage to go see Gawain, themselves, but everyone can see BB's sky changes. Sudden clearings of cloud cover are good omens, for reasons predictable but not yet stated.

    Meanwhile:
    "A plant? When did you--no, never mind, I don't want to know." The order gets relayed. After this point, the patrols are on the lookout for a foreign knight. It won't be too hard, since every knight of Valcea attacks them on sight, and Gawain does not. There's an edge of uneasiness for not being able to do the same, but orders are followed.

    Lilian makes her way toward the likely cause. Janine does, also. Both act, but the louder method naturally takes priority. The buildings here are sturdy enough for the climate, but this isn't tornado territory, and focused efforts without interference, which she has on staying out of range of the aggressive dead, makes it wholly possible to just flatten the whole problem area. There is a great deal of collateral damage, but everyone unlucky enough to have been living here has already died or fled.

    For the most part, at least, that's true. The tornado picks up a few humanoid figures in the process, once it rips through the main floor (slightly raised from street level), one of whom is definitely alive, because he's screaming. And not wearing much besides an intricate set of blood-red tattoos. Or no, those are just patterns of still-drying blood, as told by the sudden wind-smearing.

    There is also a basement, which is noticeably harder to destroy via wind currents. Each house in this row had one.

    Lilian's divination points her in the direction of one basement in particular, but there are several from which more of those mostly-humanoid undead are crawling out. There is also Something Else, but it's not visible. It's more of a Palpable Presence, a feeling of dread strong enough to touch, to crawl up the skin, ready to burrow beneath it, to -- (remainder omitted)

    Something else is on its way.

    Many things are, because here is where it's happening, but those already on the scene get the first choice to act.
Gawain The flamethrower comes forth at Gawain. The sword moves to block it first, but it's not wide enough to block the whole flame - it doesn't melt, however, due to the holy materials. Instead, the flame washes back and hits Gawain, burning against his armor and face.

He does not take any serious damage, surprisingly. He's *hurt*, but he's still moving straight through the flame, taking it as his sword cuts down the turret, and he makes it to the intersection safely.

There, he calls out to BB. "Fifteen feet back, please! I'm going to make a statement." The knight begins tracing his sword, as he shouts out as loud as he can. "Knights! Soldiers! I demand your attention! Any who try to fight each other, or pass me, will have to deal with me, one versus many! Sir Gawain, Knight of the Sun! I apologize for the sudden change, but I fight for what is just, and context has passed through my ears. Now that I have it..."

The sword tracing suddenly creates glowing runes on the ground. Those who have seen Excalibur Galatine will recognize it, but it's not full-power. Is he partially using it, somehow?

"I will destroy all evil! Including the evil that lies in your hearts! There will be no war here today! The necromancer will be dealt with, and you will heed my warning."

Suddenly, Galatine goes up with a raise of the arm. A miniature sun, 'artificial' but with real, natural sunlight all the same, starts to form, rising up into the air. The light is blinding to look on directly. It can be seen from streets across, and is clearly a sign of holy and fae power. The minute any knights or soldiers start to clash, Gawain flicks his wrist, igniting the blade like a sunbeam.

"Do not test my awesome power!"
Janine Liberi     Winds rip and tear at the structure as Janine looks on impassively, the winds swirling about her to deflect any stray particles that might hit her. Eventually, as walls give way and roofs come apart. And then, bodies come flying out. Panic grips her heart for a moment before she can process what they are. Several are just ragdolling through the wind; dead before she arrived. One is covered in occult viscera and screaming. Alive, and likely the necromancer.

    The tornado cuts off instantly, and a single thread tied into a noose snags the bloodied man by the ankle before sending him swinging under a gas light. After a few horrific, nauseating seconds of being left to sway violently, Janine descends and applies some opposing force via a kick to the face.

    "Talk," she snarls, Catherine grabbing the thread to bring him to a halt, dangling upside-down to see the tip of Janine's sabre right in front of his eyes. "How do I stop the living dead? Maybe if you're quick enough you won't join them today."
BB BB, who is here to post live, fawn over chad men, and take selfies in warzones, looks up from doing the last one.

Holding a cherry-pink (she has an Accessory Color) phone-cased smartphone that blasts the light of being Extremely Online out like a spotlight from the screen, BB looks confusedly at Gawain.

"Fifteen... I doubt it's that long, sempai, but I BBelieve you~!" She decides, sliiiiding two steps to the right and letting Gawain do his thing.

Above him, on the MOON CELL JUMBOTRON -- a large prism-construct created like a sky-billboard -- Gawain's challenge is blasted out so loud the whole city understands two things:

> Gawain, Knight of the Sun, has a really handsome face.
> Gawain, Knight of the Sun, really needs to not be BBass BBoosted.
Lilian Rook     Lilian has just a few seconds to glimpse back in the direction from which glowing sunlight and rousing Gawain-speech is coming, and mutter "Oh? He's much better at it than I thought. I suppose he really must have sat at the Round Table once."

    Then a tornado fucks up the entire housing block she was about to tactically breach. She crouches down and lowers her profile against the twister, shielding her head with her arm and turning herself sidelong against the spalling debris. When she looks up to Janine, having caused the big unexpected mess, Lilian rapidly constructs, then stows, a series of very very hurtful words, in favour of realizing that she doesn't have the time to screw around with the extracted (necromancer? sacrifice? cultist?) once that deep, crawling shudder hits her.

    "We'll talk about this later." is most of what she can afford the teen for the minute. "There's something else here. I expect to see that one still alive when I come back out. I suggest you relocate away from here if you intend to ask questions."

    Lilian is one person. She has a loftier objective here than dealing with the flow of undead, and a question that is more important to her in the moment than simply how to stop it. But certain aspects of how the 'inquisitors' are acting here are particularly insistent, sharply edged reminders of her implicit duty by way of being here at all. Rules. Codes. Procedures. Steps to take.

    Given that she has no idea where the flow of undead is coming from (other than 'down') and how many there might be, her primary resource is to utilize the correct inscriptions to set fire to the basement exits they're using, collapsing the stairwells into rubble-filled pyres, and then transmit back to the Captain's bunker. With that initial step taken care of, she then begins descending the most auspicious steps, finally taking a slower, deliberate pace; weapon unholstered, flaslight cast out into the shadows, smoothly rounding corners at distance, following a single, out-of-place bird that enters each room first.
Tamamo     Gawain makes a speech that is at once peace-oriented and ambiguously threatening. The CRC are already aware of and avoiding him, and after that first fight (from which the disarmed spider-bot swiftly retreated) and the BBillboard, there's no chance of them mistaking him for a person they should fight. There's less certainty that they'll be willing not to fight the people from Valcea, but he's introducing a lot of unknown variables that they're not immediately willing to deal with. Depending on how sensitive she is to that sort of thing, BB may feel an irritating amount of deep-analysis scanning, coming from the boring concrete bunkers just past the city, and targeting her sky-mounted construct.

    At the same time, each of the 7-person squads of inquisitors briefly confers and, declaring that Gawain is very possibly a saint of their god, Istan, concludes they should play it safe by listening to him, at least to the extent that he doesn't contradict their explicit duty of hunting demons. In turn, this means that the CRC has an easier time just avoiding the Valceans.

    At least, this is true for a little while. Without fighting each other, both armed forces are free to zero-in on ground zero, where Janine is performing an aerial interrogation. Her presently helpless victim eventually stops screaming, focuses on her, and begins babbling, his focus only going so far. Among his words are "can't stop," "won't stop," "kill them," "death," "freedom," and "already ready, prepared, prepared for so long, so long they wouldn't, so long they wouldn't come, they didn't come, until now, only now, it's their fault, it's our fault, we couldn't, it was the only way, we had to, don't you see, we had to! Years! Years!" He is simultaneously angry-shouting and crying. It's not clear whether he actually sees the blade pointed at him, with signs pointing to 'yes, but he's gone past caring.'

    He was, as Lilian discovers, not the only living culprit down here, though she has to first discover many more of the dead. Collapsing the exits may temporarily trap them, but they're just as willing to turn on her birds, and then on her. They're not smart, but they're not wholly predictable, either. They're just clever enough to be dangerous to anyone without a great deal of care, expertise, and the right tools. As Lilian has all of these, there's nothing that can stop her from following her foreseen path.

    This means she gets there just in time to see that infernal Presence coming up through the floor. The first moments are slow. In a large room dug out sometime after the building above was completed, big enough to contain all the equipment, the sacrifices, the blood, the unidentifiable substances, the circles and lines and geometric not-runes that feel Obviously Wrong to the human mind, there's still one man alive, covered in the same sort of blood-marks as his fellow up in the air. He turns to look at Lilian with an expression of abject despair.

    "Why now? Why couldn't you have been here sooner?"

    Rippling walls of flesh in scales and bristles rise from the circle. Eyes open along lines of its length, criss-crossing. The roar is just below the threshold of hearing. Painful. The man's shoulders slump. "My life, my life, I gave my life, so why..."
Tamamo     Without too much interference from each other, both armed forces are able to, with relative ease, congregate somewhere below where Janine has been flying. The undead that made it through, or that manage to escape the rubble, go bounding after them, only to be gunned down by one group or cut apart, or immolated, with ruthless professionalism by the other. The Valceans being far more enthusiastic in their business, they're taking the lead, while the CRC are reluctant to get close to them while Gawain's possible-threat is still in the air. Instead, they're forming up a farther perimeter to contain the threat.
Janine Liberi     Janine is staring venom at this necromancer as he babbles, weeping openly and screaming bloody murder, demanding that she murder him, that he is ready, has been ready. There's a part of her that wants to do it. Both to punish him, and to screw over Lillian. But another part of her wins out, and Catherine ties the man from tip to toes with golden threads. "Never let it be said I gave a mass murderer what they wanted," she hisses before spitting on his face.

    Both the CRC and the inquisitors are showing up now. Janine calls down, the winds carrying her voice. "I have the necromancer! He's all yours if you promise to clear out right the fuck now!" she says to the Valceans. "And once they're gone, you clear out too!" she says to the CRC. "Leave this town alone! They're not at fault here!"
Tamamo     "Who are you?" is the question Janine gets back from a man poised with a crossbow aimed up in her general direction. If she's good at reading that sort of detail, she'll notice that it's actually pointed at her tied-up necromancer, who has settled from partially coherent ranting into incoherent sobbing now that no one's directly addressing him.

    The men with the ultramodern body armor and walking mini-tanks are a bit far away for shouting, but one of them has a loudspeaker. "Identify yourself. You are within the sovereign territory of the Citizens Republic of Ceres. Repeat: identify yourself." The knights seem to dislike that, but don't respond past some mean laughter and spitting in the direction of the other soldiers.

    One of the fully armored knights points his sword Janine's way. "Whoever you are, it's no matter! We'll leave once all trace of the enemy is gone. If there is no quarrel, don't stand in our way."

    They don't wait for her to respond. They start advancing on the basements below her, though it's not clear how they're going to get through now that the exits are collapsed. The only one still patiently waiting is that one sharp looking fellow with the aimed crossbow, and a man tightly clutching a mace, to the side and behind him.
Lilian Rook     The idea of having a familiar enter the rooms first is pretty much just for this purpose. An especially intelligent and wary sort of bird, large enough to draw attention and quick enough to get out of the way.

    This way, Lilian doesn't have to turn blind corners right into potentially monstrous claws; only keep her black-feathered drones in sight, and either move forward after nothing happens, or blast away once they spook away from some scrabbling monstrosity. She can keep both hands on an assault carbine instead of a quadrotor camera remote, to ensure tight groupings of 'a lot' of wildly supersonic bullets, instead of gambling with the horror movie protagonist's favourite of 'a single poorly gripped pistol'. She leaves small engraved runestones on certain steps, and certain Ogham markings on wooden frames and portals she passes.

    Of all the things to not be ready for today, it seems the question that reaches her ears is the only one. Lilian forgets to even lower her weapon at the sight of a human figure when she hears it. The words, individually innocent, strung together into a nothing-special of a question, knock that efficient flowchart of action right out of her conscious thoughts, for a moment. I a moment of banally unspecial, genuinely unguarded instinct, Lilian says "I'm here now, aren't I?"

    And then the first thought that runs through her head, upon taking in the eyes and the scales and the rippling of space-flesh and roar-sounds, goes 'Lilian Isabelle Rook is never too late. If she is there at the time, then she is right on time.' Though it enters into her mind in the voice of a sixteen year old, the slightly singsong absurdity of it lends her a momentary quality of confidence sufficient to act without thinking.
Lilian Rook                 -----[stop]-----
    /Magic circle. Profane geometry. Sympathetic link. Summoning. Body markings are sympathetically tethered, but geomantic location is relevant. Previous survivor demarcates a minimum survivable distance. No town graveyard; probability of undead entering from extra-spatial coordinates is high./

    Lilian advances on the circle while she has the time; lots of time, for now, saved for just such an occasion rather than expended on clearing streets of monsters. Enough time to bend to the revolting array of occultic signs and symbols and paraphernalia.

    Enough time to hurriedly kick over burners, crack marked flagstones, scrape away lines, and drop a couple of anti-materiel canisters on the rest, pins already floating a few feet away, to ignite and spew burning phosphorous on the occultic trappings in a fraction of a second.

    Enough time to approach the despondent man, unscrew a flask of water, throw it over his face, neck, shoulders, and chest, and spend a few seconds messily scrubbing at the more intricate bulk of blood-markings to smudge and degrade them as much as possible, and then throw him over his shoulder.

    And then enough time to extend Night Mist into being, from its glamered pendant. To plunge the hatefully resonating black and red blade into those many eyes. To channel the metaphysical scorn for The Outsider into its displaced edge. To repeat the process a few more times as she dares, to properly put the wrathful sting into the window of a beast she can see summoned. And then to put it away in time to run her way back up the stairs. About the time she can feel the cellar floor starting to get uncomfortably hot beneath each footstep, and where the air feels thick and recalcitrant.

                -----[start]-----

    Lilian hauls ass up the previously cleared levels of basement she knows are safe, letting a furious chemical fire rage behind her on the sabotaged summoning implements below, and carrying one more witness to interrogate. This is the point at which he could start fighting back, if he so chose, given a moment to figure out that he's been teleported, but she is fully prepared to break a couple of bones to keep him secured, if she has to.
Tamamo     The demon, if that is what it is, is very resistant to stabbing. It may be resistant to anything that humans can imagine. It may, then, have been very important both that Lilian had arrived with enough time to spare, and that she carried that blade in particular. Lacking either, even by a matter of seconds, would have exponentially increased the danger to anyone remotely nearby, as well as the force needed to put that thing down. If it had been something a single swordsman could be expected to deal with, one might well reason, the Holy Kingdom of Valcea would not have sent dozens.

    But it does go down. The summoning is broken. The tone of the roaring, and of the presence, changes. Pain. Injury. Not defeat, but retreat. It's reteating. It's receding. Fire would not have been enough, but by the time she gets out of there, it's gone.

    This puts the inquisitors in an unexpected situation.
    "Ho, what, a survivor? This close? Impossible!"
    "Unmarked -- no! There! The blood marking remains. This one's an acolyte."
    "Then who is she?"
    "A swordsman. Here!"
    "And you are dame...?"
    "Sir Emilian, the presence has faded. We must still confirm it. Please give us a few minutes."
    "Of course, priestess. But now, what under heaven just happened here?"
Janine Liberi     "I'm sorry, I must not have made myself clear."

    With a contemptuous wave of her shackled hands, Catherine causes a gust of wind to slam the crossbow off its mark. More winds knock the knights and lightly-armored soldiers into the air akin to the undead from earlier. And like them, threads entangle them mid-flight, leaving them suspended. The walking tanks, a little too heavy to hold up, are instead knocked down, threads invading their inner workings through gaps and seams to paralyze their internal workings.

    "You take the necromancer and leave. With that, the territory dispute is over. So the other guys also leave. And this town gets to get on with their life. That is the best outcome for you all here. The other one is 'I kill all of you.' Wanna know why there was so few undead when you finally got off your asses? That was me. I killed them just like this."

    Those threads tighten, starting to bite flesh.