Dominus - Crimson Square has started at Arx - Ward of House Thrax - Crimson Square.

2 Kennex corsairs leaves, following Zoey.

Courvoisier, a fluffy golden cat with a flat face have been dismissed.

Beelzebubbles, the hairless feline overlord you've been waiting for have been dismissed.

Dycard wields Audacity, a rubicund longsword.

Scylla wields a simple steel scimitar.

Orion, a healer's surly Assistant, 2 Redoubt Buccaneers arrive, following Azova.

The Crimson Square has seen a lot of blood in its day. Today is one of THOSE days. The initial declarations and attacks have degenerated into a wide-ranging riot with sailors, soldiers, and citizens laying about. The conservative factions seem to be in the majority - either because they coordinated this, or because there's a lot of sympathy with their rallying cry: "RESTORE THE ISLES! PRESERVE OUR TRADITIONS!"

Maybe both. There are at least ten knots of fierce fighting as dozens of people in each one hammer at progressive estates, trying to break in past gates and guards.

2 Eswynd shieldbearers arrives, following Norah.

Wash checks command and leadership at normal. Wash is successful.

Wash comes out of the nursery with a nanny and all five of its current occupants. He sends them on the easiest path away from the fighting and sends Jayne off with them. They'll have some last ditch protection. He leans over the bannister and shouts directions to the servant and directs them to make their stand in the kitchens, at least there will be plenty of weapons if the rebels get that far.

Natasha checks wits and survival at normal. Natasha is successful.

Q-bert an Albino Possum arrives, following Shyanne.

Valdemar checks command and leadership at hard. Valdemar is successful.

With the early evening devolving into an explosion of chaos, Natasha Thrax manages to find herself in the periphery of a destructive wave that threatens to overrun everything within sight. She doesn't hesitate the moment the shouts commence; pivoting on her heel, a smooth motion drags her hood up over her head to obscure her features, working her sea serpent signet off her finger and stowing it in the folds of her gown as she strides as quickly as she can for the nearest place of safety. Dark, but sharp eyes catch the shadowy awning nearby. "See what you can do the help our own," she murmurs to two of her guards, followed by a nod to the elite. "Loric, you're with me." She steps into it, blue silk vanishing into the darkness the moment the first sounds of conflict start, pressing her back against the wall, heart in her throat.

Lady Teonia Redreef, Aryka Wyrmfang, 3 Thrax Guards, Marquessa Pudding, a doughy dog, 2 Thrax Elite Guards arrive, following Sorrel.

Valdemar, flanked by the five house guards he brought out from the Grimhall Longhouse, takes a quick moment to assess the situation. "Mourning Islanders! Stand and defend your lawful lords against these criminals! Show them how de deal with traitors! Keep your oaths!" he eventually shouts at the sailors and other men in the Square in the hopes of rallying them against the rioters. The Duke then begins to march toward the men he has called into action so that they can join with his guards into a defensive formation.

Scylla checks command and leadership at hard. Scylla is marginally successful.

Cornelius checks command and intimidation at daunting. Cornelius fails.

Dycard checks command and leadership at hard. Dycard fails.

Scylla is passing through the courtyard with the intention of visiting the Blackshore Manor, as she does. When the infighting breaks out, Scylla's immediate reaction is to step in and start directing as many of these belligerents as possible, at least the ones she believes are not affiliated with Duke Helianthus or traditionalists. That's incredibly difficult to discern at this time, however, so she only manages to shout strict and commanding orders to ten willing listeners. "Defend the manor gates!"

RIOOOOOTTT 25 inflicted and Cornelius is harmed for moderate damage.

RIOOOOOTTT 25 inflicted and Dycard is unharmed.

Haakon checks strength and medium wpn at daunting. Haakon is successful.

Cornelius with vehemence at those wearing the colors of Helianthus, striking about with his whip to a grand fanfare. His yelling and attempt was to quell the press of dissenters toward the inner courtyard. But, the mob had its mind and it was fixed on him. He was charged, punched, socked in the mouth rather square, and cocked backward where his balance was a bit off; starting backward in a daze and sluggish.

Aedric checks strength and medium wpn at daunting. Aedric fails.

MOOOOB! 40 inflicted and Aedric is harmed for minor damage.

Rushing out alongside his father, Dycard attempts to fight his way toward Valdemar's band of guards and civilians while trying to holler above the din of chaos to try and prevent unnecessary bloodshed, but finds himself swept up in fighting as his father agitates the crowds into targeting them. Coming down to fighting, he tries to duck and weave while trying to get to his father's side.

Gaspar checks command and manipulation at daunting. Gaspar is successful.

The newly raised timber hall of the Prodigal house Eswynd is among those beset by knots of warriors shouting about tradition. The knot of fighters who had forced open the door of Eswyndol had run squarely into a fight as the Prodigals in the hall reach for weapons, shout battle cries, and join the fray. Among these is Haakon, who takes up the harpoon that leaned within reach and casts the barb through the chest of an interloper. "Show the fuckers OUR traditions. ESWYND," the warrior roars, answered in kind by those fellows at hand.

Wrenching his harpoon loose from the lung of his first fallen foe, the reaver grips a shield in his right hand, keeping barbed spear in the left. Wading into the knot of assailants, he continues killing, fighting out the door and into the Crimson Square.

Victus checks command and leadership at normal. Victus is marginally successful.

Skill with a blade means little when the number of enemy combatants wildly exceeds that of your allies. Aedric nonetheless rushes into the fray, longsword drawn, and sets about dispatching those adorned in the colors of the traitor duke. Thought his armor protects him from several blows, there are those that strike true -- lacerating skin and bludgeoning bone. Nevertheless, he persists -- and will do so until the riot has ended or he has drawn his last breath.

The marquis' voice looms louder than most have ever heard it. With his own dagger tucked into his trousers behind his back, and hand loosely on the hilt, Gaspar calls out over the fray. "People, hear me! Nothing has been done that cannot yet be undone! Do not sacrifice what remains of your lives for a moot cause. Lay down your arms, show yourselves to the Iron Guard and mercy will be shown to you."

Nox, a kitten black as pitch with star-dappled fur arrives, following Ophira.

Q-bert an Albino Possum have been dismissed.

Romulius checks strength and huge wpn at daunting. Romulius is marginally successful.

Raja checks strength and small wpn at daunting. Raja fails.

A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Iseulet before departing.

From the gates of the Thrax Estate, the imposing figure of the Prince of Maelstrom is making a steady march. His face is obscured beneath an alaricite helm, crafted in the image of a roaring sea serpent. Clawed gauntlets are gripping the hilt of a greatsword that was only an inch from dragging across the ground. Ceremonial armor and leather covers the rest of his body. Though his expression is masked, the heave in his shoulders and the force of his steps tell the tale. This man is /infuriated/.

"Come to our ward. Shed blood on our stones." His voice hisses. He thrusts his blade forward, directing traffic with its tip. "Kill the traitors!" Just as soon as the command is echoed, the form of one of his own guardsmen slams into his side. They wrestle for only a moment before a loyalist plants a blade in their back. A few more attempt the same, meeting the shocked but thankfully alert soldiers that guard the Prince. With dead Thraxians at his feet, Victus howls in rage.

Rioters 40 inflicted and Raja is unharmed.

Iseulet checks command and intimidation at hard. Iseulet marginally fails.

Oh No You Don't 40 inflicted and Iseulet is unharmed.

Raja emerges from the Seryn estate, her gaze going wide as she spies the Kennex Kay. She turns to Iseulet and grasps her arm, "Skander.." She points to the building with the advancing rioters bashing in the walls. It is a brief moment of panic that devolves to a raging fury. Her hand grips tighter around the hilt of her blade. She releases Iseulet's arm and joins in on the fray! She is a skilled fighter, but going up against this many at once is obviously taxing. Blades meet, sending metallic sparks to shower around them. She dodges around other blows and moves in ways to deflect more blows. As she fights, she yells, "PRAISE SKALD YOU MOTHER FUCKERS!"

Quickly rushing out of the front gate of Chateau Seryn, Iseulet puts the pieces of the puzzle together, easily overhearing the battle cries and catching flashes of the Helianthus sigil on some of the armed, viciously fighting soldiers. She catches Raja's words and pats her shoulder. "Go get him safe." Setting her jaw hard, she keeps her clawed hand somewhat behind her, out of immediate view but at the ready and poised to claw the eyes out of anyone that so much as looks at her the wrong way. Knowing she will be noticed, she still doesn't keep her head down. She has the crazy eyes ready for anyone that gets close, attempting to give herself some personal space.

She does not get very far... Because she is about as intimidating as a half drowned kitten.

In the chaos of the rioting, she's pretty much swept away and smushed into a wall, unable to get very far. At the very least, however, she hasn't been noticed. At least she remains unharmed. Just jostled.

Ember checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Ember is marginally successful.

Amund checks dexterity and medium wpn at daunting. Amund is marginally successful.

Azova checks perception and medicine at normal. Azova is successful.


"Find Redreef?" The clank of rubicund footsteps is loud on the ground, and Baroness Ember Redreef walks at such a fast clip that her armor's cape flutters behind her. Her sword is already drawn. "You've found Redreef," Ember roars, projecting her voice in the way that loud, violent nobles are known to do. "Your mistake." Ember then swings down the visor of her helm and enters the fray. Her motions are swift, violent, and altogether excessive in their brutality. Why knock a sword out of someone's hand when you can sever their entire arm, after all? Why slash to wound when you can swing to kill? Ember doesn't seem to differentiate between which rioters are which: if they're rioting, they're fair game, and if they're fair game, they're getting a sword stuck into them. Before long, she's back-to-back with Romulius: "I see your family needs bailing out," she notes, and though her helm covers her face, she sounds... well, Ember sounds like she's having the the most fun of her life, like she's got a big ol' grin plastered on her face.

Normally, Amund travels to the Thrax Ward only to pay his visits to his patron, Prince Tyrus. But since the rioting mobs are about to meet with opposition by the Highlord himself, the Fidante-aligned knight draws his Eurusi sword, Sandstalker, turns to take in the broader perspective of the conflict.

He sees a Marquessa struggling to get an avenue to escape, at that point, and decides to go to her aid, ready to kill several of the rioters -- if they can even be called that -- to give her an easier way out of the Ward. Sure, it might attract attention to himself in the process, but he's ready for it.

There are just too many, so he gets stuck with Iseulet, pressed by the mob against the wall for the moment, while parrying and blocking as many swings as humanly possible. "Run when I tell you to."

Norah checks command and leadership at hard. Norah fails.

Angry, Angry Sailors 40 inflicted and Norah is harmed for severe damage.

Azova wades right in after darting out from the gates of the Darkwater estate, her healing supplies slung over her shoulder already as it became evident that violence was brewing before she went through the door. "I'm a Mercy, let me help you." is her battlecry, it would seem, as she comes across the injured one after the other and begins to help them past friendly lines to a place that she can patch them up.

Shyanne checks Dexterity and Stealth at hard. Shyanne is marginally successful.

Go outside, they said. Go for a walk, Marquessa, they said. It'll be good for you, they said. So Norah Eswynd is out for a stroll in the square when the world goes mad. She looks to her guards, then looks around. "Help me get civilians to safety," she barks at them, trying to find way to take people to shelter. But a Marquessa-Consort of an upstart Prodigal house is the last thing any of the rioters want to see right now. Her shieldbearers fight fiercely, but they are too outnumbered. One goes down and the crowd descends on her.

Micana, an efficient assistant, 1 Saik Guard, Golden, an Oakhaven bloodhound, Gunther, a Rottweiler arrive, following Lucita.

That's Our Pinata! 40 inflicted and Shyanne is harmed for serious damage.

Lucita comes into the area cautiously, guard dogs bristling and at the alert. Her gaze sweeps over the area.

Sorrel checks charm and performance at daunting. Sorrel fails.

Shyanne sees the pregnant Eswynd get hurt and she cant have that! No she cant! She moves through the crowd trying to avoid the slaughter of folk.. she pulls Noarah out of harms way but not before she too is trampled! Healer goes down as she puts herself place of where norah once was. So much for trying to prove herself useful, sometimes its a life for a life, in this case, the Eswynd heir.

Sorrel wields Anthem, alaricite sword of the Bladesong.

Joining the guards surrounding Victus, Sorrel has her sword at the ready as she steps into place to protect the High Lord. She sings as she can, a rallying song to friends and allies alike, but it's hard to hear over the din of the crowd. There's just too much noise for anything to be heard. But the Prince of Maelstrom has a new guard, and she brings her troops to add to his protection.

Xyander checks dex and stealth at daunting. Xyander fails.

Xyander checks dexterity and stealth at daunting. Xyander fails.

Riots and Guards 40 inflicted and Xyander is harmed for serious damage.


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The wave of attackers buckles under the new aid coming from Wash and Domonico, and in particular Ian's assault, but they still press on. Some of the Kennex guardsmen are giving ground, and the fires are getting alarming on the ground, but have not spread from the Main Hall yet.

OOC: Okay, roll wits or dexterity at normal for intiative, and then can say what you're doing in that order.))
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Ophira checks charm and performance at daunting. Ophira is marginally successful.

Griffin checks command and leadership at hard. Griffin is marginally successful.

What is that racket? Ophira distinctly heard a ruckus and as the Siren of Setarco weaves her way to find out do eyes widen at the angry mob, "What is this nonsense?!" Is exclaimed and with winding grace does the newly made Blackshore find a large shipping crate on which to perch herself and gives direction in a musical call for those to seek refuge on estate grounds. Eyes pick out those of her house who might be injured and calculating sights roam towards anyone else who finds themselves fallen.

Bring'em home, Griffin!



Xyander was enjoying the day for a change, ha had a really good breakfast and now all of his is going on. The night before he was told of a war and the previous night there was talk about war. Is this it? Not knowing, and not caring people were getting hurt and he needed to get a weapon and do something. He spies a down guard with the weapons he wanted but as he tries to sneak towards the downed man, he trips himself up and the mans friends see him and begins attacking. Xyander takes a few hits but he is quick and able to maneuver enough to not take serious damage.

Ah yes! She calls them, and Griffin brings them, one by one (it's hard!!) out of the battle, and into the Thrax Estate! Each one is another one saved, but there are so many more!!

Lucita checks command and intimidation at hard. Lucita fails.

Best intentions go wrong, badly wrong as the children do not recognize help when it arrives. Golden and Gunther seem to frighten the children more than reassure them. Exasperated, Lucita casts a worried gaze after the children and signals her dogs to return to guarding her.

Trueth checks Dexterity and Ride at daunting. Trueth catastrophically fails.

40 inflicted and Trueth is harmed for severe damage.

Lady Trueth Redreef rides in on a white horse, like a knight in shining armor - but the woman is not in armor at all, and her plan to distract those who are attacking Romulius and Ember goes awry.

She charges into the crowd and wields a sword above her head, intending to bring it down through the crowd - but before she can, she's turned upon. The horse makes a terrible noise as it's leg cracks loudly, and Trueth falls. It's not long before she's down on the ground and the crowd envelops her, screams of pain coming from center of the crowd.

The shouts of the enraged, the injured, the dying are cut by a few wavering notes of song and the shouts of lords and ladies trying to get the violence under control Highlord Victus' sword drips with the blood of his traitorous guardsmen, and he's not alone in that. Brave men and women fight, both noble and commonborn, locked in what seems to be a roughly equal struggle with the rioters. Others dare the fighting to grab the wounded, or protect those who have no desire to fight. Off to one side, a line of men is kneeling, having surrendered to persuasive words. Heroism is attempted. Some succeeds. Some fails. But at the very least, the riot seems to be stopped from breaking down the doors of estates. The fighting continues, but most households remain unmolested.

And then the heavens open, with a CRACK of thunder, and a steady hiss of rain, cold and clearing, that falls. Wasn't the day just sunny and lovely? Yes. And now, it is as if the sky itself weeps at what it sees in Arx.

Courvoisier, a fluffy golden cat with a flat face have been dismissed.

Beelzebubbles, the hairless feline overlord you've been waiting for have been dismissed.

Natasha checks perception and investigation at hard. Natasha is successful.

Valdemar checks command and war at hard. Valdemar is marginally successful.

As the chaos continues, the gods grant them the gift (or curse) of rain. Ever opportunistic, Natasha draws her hood up over her head. "Loric, help me," she murmurs to the elite guard, and he and the other guard left with the princess assist her in angling herself for a better, but surreptitious glimpse of the proceedings. Crouched on her new perch, the young woman lifts her head higher, angling her gaze to the chaos, flitting past the blood and screams - some part of her can swear that she can hear Victus roaring with fury somewhere near the Thrax estate, followed by the terrible scream of an injured horse. But she attempts to shut them out as she narrows her focus into a single sharp, crystal clear point across the way...

...and what she sees narrows her eyes under her hood; if there's a decision to be made, it's a quick one. Signaling for her guard to help her down, she drops back onto the ground. "The moment we find an opportunity, get ready to move," she whispers. "We need to follow someone.

Having gathered some men to him, other than his own guards, Valdemar lets out a loud laugh at the start of the rain and then yells an order, "Grimhall, spearhead! I'm the point!" Counting on his guards and the mercenaries he has worked with in the past to help the newcomers into formation, he gives a moment for them to do so before pressing forward toward the densest knot of rioters that he sees. With Widow's Lament swinging before him to guard and strike along the way, he leads his wedge to smash into that knot, which happens to be the one that Romulius and Ember are currently fighting off.

Scylla checks command and war at hard. Scylla is marginally successful.

Cornelius checks dexterity and stealth at normal. Cornelius is successful.

Amid the tempestuous storm roiling in the square, Admiral Scylla spies a shred of organization forming composed of Duke Valdemar, Lord Romulius and Baroness Ember. It is in this moment that she opts to withdraw her ten loyal sailors from their positions against the manor gates and command them to join forces with this marching wedge. "To Duke Valdemar!" she shouts, and they follow her lead, falling along the outer line of the formation. She brandishes the steel scimitar with ease, parrying any blows that might be attempted upon her person and the men flanking her.

Dycard checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Critical Success! Dycard is spectacularly successful.

Cornelius staggered back and forth from the blows, his mouth agape from the swell and blood that poured from within. His splint at his hand at become mangled, though his free arm sought out Dycard's shoulders, doing his damnedest to hoist his son with him; his fatigued state has him struggling hard to fight against Dycard's protest. But he could not hold for much longer, "DYCARD, no!" He winced in worry, still poised with his whip though unsure of his ability or where he was even needed.

Haakon checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Haakon is marginally successful.

Aedric checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Aedric is marginally successful.

Shrugging free of his father's attempts to drag him toward the Blackshore estate, Dycard dances through the melee toward where Trueth went down with her horse. Admist flashing steel and using his cape to misdirect or entangle any attackers he pulls the woman free of the mob and attempts to usher her toward where Valdemar, the Baroness Redreef, and the Blackshore company had conducted their link up. Gliding from foe to foe he makes a point of being as bloody as possible - targeting arteries so that fountains of blood inspire the less resolute of Helianthus' mob are inspired to cut and run.

Gaspar checks command and manipulation at normal. Gaspar is successful.

In the midst of combat, the sounds of familiar voices in the distance command the sailor's attention. Unfortunately, there is a wall of bodies between himself and his allies -- so, without a practical alternative, he shifts into a low guard and begins the long and arduous process of breaking the line. It is not a pretty process, but war was only described as beautiful by writers, academics, and Ember.

Haakon wades further into the fray, by turns blocking and bashing with the iron rim of his round shield, and thrusting with the cruelly barbed spear in the other. More foemen fall, but the press of enemies thickens as Haakon fights toward the Thrax gates. He does his part to combat the barbaric reputation that so unfairly burdens Prodigals in the Compact by shouting, "I will flay your fucking skull," at an enemy in the colors of Helianthus who committed the grave crime of blocking a stab at his throat.

Victus checks strength and war at normal. Victus is marginally successful.

After seeing those he initially convinced to surrender their arms and seeing that indeed a portion of them retreated, it was evident that despite the numbers being cut down by those of the Compact, there were many more to contend with. The marquis stepped onto the back of a dead revolter, putting himself almost a head taller than the crowd. "One thousand silver pieces for each Helianthus cloak thrown at my feet!" Gone was the charming tone and instead came a rumbling, stern baritone with something akin to bloodlust in his gaze.

Romulius checks strength and huge wpn at normal. Romulius fails.

40 inflicted and Romulius is unharmed.

"Betrayers. Disloyal traitors-" Victus is having trouble seeing through the haze of blood. He's been seeing red for awhile now, physically and metaphorical. Although the familarity of Haakon's bloody war cries, combined with Sorrel's uplifting song was giving him enough clairvoyance to stay with it. "Break the ranks, free the skull-taking prodigal and get to the grim duke." His words are punctuated with a swing of his blade. Barathrum cutting through Helianthus colors, the storm-whipped blade so very at home in the storm. Although he swings and staggers one after the other, there's always more in their place. Frustration sets in as he's unable to clear enough for a straight path to Haakon. He falls back on Sorrel instead. "Damn it all."

Raja checks dexterity and small wpn at normal. Raja is successful.


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There's word of combat raging in the Queensrest, as a large number of citizens and guards storm the inn, but it doesn't last long. Rumors are far more interested in what the group found, and they spread like horrified wildfire throughout the city. Assassins have struck at the very heart of the Faith, and while cut down to a man, their mission appears to have been accomplished before any help could reach them. Despite the valiant efforts of the templars, and the final bravery of the man they were guarding, the assassins have succeeded. .

Dominus Orazio is dead.
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For his part, Romulius's election to use a polearm in a full-blown melee seems to have proven unwise. Lengthening his grip on the spear and thrusting towards a traitor, he is quickly met in the breastplate by a heavy club. He loses not blood but wind as the force of the attack knocks him clear off of his feet.

Rage fills Raja features! The Lower Denizen becomes a twirling fury of blade and blood! One fool presses up to her and she juts out her dagger, hitting true. She twists the knife and violently rips it out before spinning around to slash at the throat of the next one. Blood splatters across her face and her armor, dripping fromher Alaricite blade. When she is free from the rioters near the Seryn estate, she turns to sprint towards the Kennex Kay! She is on a mission.

Ember checks dexterity and medium wpn at normal. Ember is successful.

Ember checks command and intimidation at easy. Ember fails.


As the Grimhall forces link up with Ember and Romulius, it might sound like within her rubicund sallet helm, Ember is... laughing? Because she is. She's laughing. She's having a great time! Until she spies Trueth getting knocked off her horse. "TRUETH!" Ember /screams/, nearly blowing out her voice in two syllables. "Guide my sword to slay whoever has harmed Trueth," Ember growls, audible to those close enough to her, and then she breaks away from the group. Dycard has saved Trueth and pulled her out of trouble. It doesn't matter. This is clearly about vengeance, and even as some of the forces try to flee, Ember mercilessly and needlessly cuts them down. She finds herself again surrounded, but fights as though possessed, each swing of her sword meant to end a life.

Amund checks dexterity and medium wpn at normal. Amund is spectacularly successful.

Amund checks command and intimidation at easy. Amund is successful.

Azova checks perception and investigation at daunting. Azova is marginally successful.

Victus checks perception and investigation at daunting. Victus is marginally successful.

Sorrel checks perception and investigation at daunting. Sorrel fails.

Romulius checks perception and investigation at daunting. Romulius marginally fails.

Dycard checks perception and investigation at daunting. Dycard fails.

Gaspar checks perception and investigation at daunting. Gaspar marginally fails.

Aedric checks perception and investigation at daunting. Botch! Aedric is simply outclassed. This is monumentally beyond them and the result is ruinous.

Trueth checks Perception and Investigation at daunting. Trueth fails.

Scylla checks perception and investigation at daunting. Critical Success! Scylla is spectacularly successful.

Valdemar checks perception and investigation at daunting. Valdemar catastrophically fails.

Raja checks perception and investigation at daunting. Raja catastrophically fails.

Ember checks perception and investigation at daunting. Ember catastrophically fails.

Ophira checks perception and investigation at daunting. Ophira fails.

Cornelius checks perception and investigation at daunting. Cornelius fails.

Haakon checks perception and investigation at daunting. Haakon catastrophically fails.

Xyander checks perception and investigation at daunting. Xyander fails.

Lucita checks perception and investigation at daunting. Lucita catastrophically fails.

Amund checks perception and investigation at daunting. Amund fails.

Griffin checks perception and investigation at daunting. Griffin fails.

Pressed against the wall and left without any other recourse except slaughtering everyone around him, Amund goes and does exactly that. Sandstalker is a blur in his hands as he severs the neck of one, and in the same motion, it almost seems like, he trespasses the sternum of another with the blade, which cleaves its way out cleanly out of the poor dead man's torso. One sees this after attempting to hit him with an axe and tries to run, he perforates the man's lung and leaves him to die, before cleaving another who dared raise their club at him.

After all is said and done, the swordsman's path is clear, but he is covered in gore and a trail of blood and viscera trail his path. He intends to make his way over to the Thrax Estate now, even as people start to retreat around him.

follows his path*

"Cowardly fucks. Dropping your cloaks and running away now that you're losing. So much for your /principals and morals/!" Listen, after having to sew up and patch up friends and get mired in blood and gore, even a Mercy gets mad enough to point fingers. And Azova is pointedly gesturing the way of several who just shed their cloaks to try and blend in, heading towards the houses of the more conservative. But now that she can move freely, she is also making her way through the friendly sides of the line to check on people more directly. "Darkwater's Courtyard can be used for healing!" And she will head in that direction to take care of people.

As people start to scatter, Sorrel escorts the High Lord to the Grim Duke so that they can properly rendezvous and secure the district. She seems disinclined to chase after any of the fleeing rioters, but her sword remains drawn and she remains at the ready.

Ophira checks charm and empathy at normal. Botch! Ophira is simply outclassed. This is monumentally beyond them and the result is ruinous.

The bloodshed and heated cavorting of angry people didn't help Ophira one bit and eyes roll, hands coming to settle on the curve of hips as she tries to dodge a rock here and there, "Fine! But remember that you were offered!"

Lucita's jaw tightens at seeing the carnage around but she does not hesitate to head over to help any wounded to a reach a healer.

Oh dear, that didn't look too good! Perhaps Ophira could use a little help, particularly to keep the stones off. Griffin protests her, "Come on, you've done enough. The are people who need you."



Backed against the wall as he is getting jumped, Xyander does what he can to protect himself. THough when the rioters begin to fall back, his attackers also goes with them. Bruised and hurt, there were others who were far worse then him. He quickly moves to some of the nearby pedestrians, they were people like him. No armor or any weapons of any kind, Xyander helps a mother and her child who were hurt, the mother more so, but he gets them over to Azova. "Ma'am here are these two, the mother is barely concious, she was protecting her child." he says to her. Xyander limps away moving to go back for others.

Tyce the gruff and disapproving, Argent, a silver hound, 2 Scarlet Phoenix Guard, Starboard an excited Oakhaven bloodhound arrive, following Juliana.

Tyce the gruff and disapproving, Argent, a silver hound, 2 Scarlet Phoenix Guard, Starboard an excited Oakhaven bloodhound leave, following Juliana.

Trueth Redreef, who did manage to distract a crowd of rioters in a non-conventional manner, is being helped along by Dycard. She looks back at her horse with tears streaming down her bloodied, dirty face. "Someone needs to put it down," she says, her jaw swollen. She spits out some blood and moves over to Azova for healing while looking at her poor horse, seeming more concerned with it than with her own state of being.

The rain falls steadily on the Square - which has earned its name, today. It is awash in crimson, with bodies - mostly rioters, but also house guards and honorable soldiers. The horse's screams echo over the rain...well, those and the screams of anyone who doesn't get out of Ember's way as she continues to chase down and try and kill anyone in the vicinity. It's actually kind of eerie how /fast/ the rioters clear out, and how quickly the street is left to the defenders, the wounded, and the dead.

"Do you want me to see what I can do for the horse? I've healed the leg of one before. I don't think it will be able to fight or be ridden again. But, you won't have to put it down." Azova mentions cautiously, as she tends to Trueth's injuries, her voice kept as soothing as her touch is gentle. "Sit over here for a moment while you decide, if you like." is murmured, as she nods a thank you to Xyander and gathers the mother and child in closer so she can examine both and see to them too. She does, for now, maintain her composure at least in the face of so many wounded and the screams of... no, she's not going to pay any attention to that.

Raja races towards the Kennex Kay, pausing to look out to the Crimson Square. She surveys the damage quietly before she slips her way inside, still on that secret mission.

Lucita moves over to a soldier in Thrax armor and kneels beside him. There's blood. and mixed in with puddles of rain, it looks like a lot. She looks the man over wary of touching him but finally finding a spot in the armor that seems to be leaking the red stuff and puts a gloved hand on it while she calls out for a healer. "Once I get help for you, I'm going to see if they need me to do anything else or get out of their way."

Prince Victus brings a hand to the back of his helmet, pulling at straps and studs until he's able to yank the bestial visage off his head. The sweat he wears is masked by the trickling rain. Labored breaths are taken as he stares across the carnage. Bodies in the square. Blood dispersed by the storm. The smell of copper so heavy in the air. Clawed metal digits grab at the side of his hair, clutching a handful of brown locks. There's Ember still killing. There's people still fleeing. There's... /them/ that catches his eye.

Victus directs his sword toward a particular few individuals. The ones trying to disperse into the crowd, where they favor the side of the square occupied by conservative houses. "Them." He says. "THEM!"

Cornelius trudged forward, having not turned to flee back to the manor. His teeth gritted in an expulsion of energy, cocking back his arm to send a whip-crack from his whip before it was simply to much effort. He exhaled heavily, spitting blood out as he trudged to the center of the square to see if any of the dissenters still drew breath; specifically those with the colors of Helianthus.

@emit The rain may be pouring, but it does little to wash away all the blood on the ground, nor drown the screams of the horse and those unfortunate enough to get in the way of the Bloody Baroness' weapon. With the riot dying down, however, Natasha emerges from the alcove where she has hidden herself, trailed by two of her usual retinue of four guards. Her steps are quick, following the flow of the dispersing crowd, her shoulders rigid and her expression grim. Stopping at the end of one of the streets, she reaches down to secure one of the discarded Helianthus tunics from the ground - she'll examine it later, tucking it within the security of her cloak, but her gaze tracks a few of the bodies that she has glimpsed from her hiding place. Silent, and almost completely still, she doesn't try to engage anyone just yet, her gaze far away and anchored deeper in the Ward of Thrax.

Her brother's words reach her ears, but she doesn't approach in case he decides to give chase.

Scylla sheathes her scimitar at last, scornful eyes focusing on one of the many gates leading to the doorsteps of each Thraxian vassal. She's so focused on this particular road that she misses the point at which the fighting ceases, at least for /most/ of them. Ember's bloodlust is loud enough to snap her out of her own. Without standing on ceremony, the Admiral of House Blackshore crosses the square and walks right up to Highlord Victus Thrax. And yet, he seems to have caught on to precisely who it was that started this fight. The woman takes off into a sprint toward the gates of House Grimkin, with all intention of scaling them if she must to get to those traitorous few.

The Grimkin Estate is buttoned up tight as a vest, with a couple of completely unharmed guards out front. They stand at attention as Scylla approaches. "Halt," one calls, "unless this is a declaration of war."

Scylla immediately unsheathes her scimitar.

As the rioters begin to clear out, Valdemar stoops to clean the blade of his greatsword on the cloak of one of the fallen enemies. As he does so, he looks about and sees Victus pointing out people who are trying to get away. Turning to his own men, the Duke tells them, "You heard the High Lord, get them! Bring them back alive if you can!" With this, he returns Widow's Lament to its sheathe and then looks toward the Grimkin estate, his brow furrowed deeply.

Sorrel follows the direction of Victus's sword, then takes off after those 'them', her own guards following her. "HALT! YOU'RE UNDER ARREST IN THE NAME OF HIGH LORD VICTUS! SET DOWN YOUR ARMS!"

Ophira steps down from where the crate, coaxed by Griffin and giving the Redreef a curious once over, "Don't worry about me but you should get yourself to safety." There is the quirk of a smirk at the corner of lips but there would be no mirth settling in feral sights, those eyes roaming to find Aedric in the fallout.

A runner was sent to the bank with a script of something written by the Tessere marquis and before long, someone returned with a stack of notes. Next to the body of the downed Helianthus man on which he stood a pile of cloaks began to be thrown at his feet. Each one was counted and, in turn, notes for the amount of one-thousand silver pieces were redeemable at the bank. While talk of war and insurrection raged on not far off at the gates of Grimkin, Gaspar made good on his promise of payment for each slain traitor.

Some of the criminal scum stop at Sorrel's order...but a lot more put on a burst of additional speed.

Cornelius gripped a dying dissenter by the collar, shaking the body with some manner of vitriolic rage as his free hand looked for anything that would be useful, or discerning. A missive, a trinket. Anything, really.


Ember continues to rage, even as the crowd flees from her faster than she can catch up to them. (Maybe if she stripped off the armor, but the world isn't ready for Ember Redreef: Naked and Enraged.) She doesn't discriminate in who she cuts down: the injured, the cowering, the repentant, the dying. When Victus points his sword, Ember is slow to notice, but notice she does. "GrrrrRRRRRAAAAHHHH," she howls from inside her sallet helm.

Trueth nods to Azova gently. "Please, if you can. We will keep him around if you can heal him... otherwise..." She shakes her head, looking to Azova. She places her hand on the other woman's. "Thank you."

Admiral Scylla's actions are enough to prompt Romulius to stride after her - the drawing of her blade turns it into as quick of a pace as he can manage in plate.

Victus shares a glance with Valdemar. The implication clear, this is about to get very heavy. Nonetheless, the dead, the dying and the wounded are enough to steer the Prince's course clearly. While Sorrel chases the fleeing, he moves to stand beside Scylla, and his voice rings out clear and forcefully. "Open those fucking gates and release the traitors. I will only ask once."

Scylla raises her sword level to one of the guard's throats, and waits for further orders.

Dycard wipes his sword clean before sheathing the blade and helping Trueth over to Azova while trying to give Ember a wide berth. "Your grace is without equal, Lady Azova - I will leave the Lady Trueth in your care," he offers with an encouraging smile, patting Trueth on the shoulder. "I will see to you shortly, my lady," he professed before turning sharply to the sound of Ember's howl. He rushed to put himself between the baroness and her latest target with hands lifted in the air, "Baroness Redreef! My lady! You -must- stop, please! You should be seeing to Lady Trueth, not butchering these sods!" he urged from beneath wildly strewn about bangs.

Griffin lifts a brow at Ophira, "Me? No, I don't like to fight, but I can." Besides, Ember is out there.

The rain pours down, and someone who seems to be the Captain of the Guard bows with all appropriate gravity. "Your Grace. I am not sure what you mean. The estate is currently entertaining guests, which have been offered Gild's guest right. We cannot allow them to come to harm. Unless..." he raises his voice so that the words call clear, "Does the Highlord intend to violate Grimkin's honor and murder us for honoring the ancient traditions of Faith and Compact?"

Heads turn. A couple of them look like runners. As if waiting for the answer, or what happens next.

"Of course I will, my lady. Thank you for escorting her, Lord Dycard." Azova directs her assistant to see to some of the less wounded but still needing attention like the wounded man Lucita had been helping. And of course Trueth herself. And then, she squeezes the hand Trueth placed on hers and steels herself towards the injured equine, her guards there to help subdue the creature while she works if it's needed. But she is careful, and cautious, and tries a soothing tone with the creature before going about the business of saving that leg so that he needn't be put down. With each step, a quietly whispered prayer to Lagoma that she's successful. And also perhaps that more violence does not break out as the traitors are chased down.

Aedric, injured but still capable of fighting, moves to join Romulius and Scylla at Grimkin's gates.

Lucita looks up at hearing Victus's orders and what is going on. With a sigh she takes the wounded man's hand, pressing it against his own wound and starts trying to drag him out of the way. "Help me move him over to a healer before th gets trampled if they star fighting again!"

With a few of the stragglers disappearing within House Grimkin, Natasha finally reanimates. She finally cross the distance between herself and the rest of the collective demanding for the traitors' release, standing somewhere behind and to the side of her older brother. When lips part, her voice is low.

Cornelius grimaced as the weight of the body was thrown down violently against the cobblestone of the square; whatever happened to the head was anyone's guess with how hard he let go of the body. He limbered away, glancing for any of his family and allies, exhaling heavily as he tried to speak but he only spit more blood from open damage to his jaw. The back of his arm and coat was used now to forestall the bleeding.

Valdemar nods at Victus with a somber look on his face as he moves alongside him toward the Grimkin estate. "Really? You will hide criminals and traitors behind guest rite? By Grimkin's oaths of fealty to me, I command that you give up the men who just fled behind your gates. And warn you that you will not keep them from us," he steps forward to calmly, but forcefully, make this demand of the captain.

Haakon keeps after the foemen as the chaotic melee turns to a wild and bloody rout. The Prodigal reaver girls his spear into the leg of one last opponent near the gates of Grimkin, helmed head tilting to a curious angle as he finds himself near Victus' left side. Leaving the harpoon lodged in the wounded warrior's leg, Haakon draws a heavy flensing knife, and grasps his foe by the hair. The ghost of a smile bends his scarred lip as he eyes the guards.

"Duke Valdemar," the Captain of the Guard says, with another painfully correct bow. "I'm afraid that I cannot. It is the obligation of a House to protect its guests to their last breath. You offer no evidence of their wrongdoing, and to give them up would be a breech of honor that no one in all the Isles, or the Compact, would forgive." He smiles. "If you have accusations to make against our guests, please send a representative with the details of those accusations, and proof of wrongdoing. We will undertake a thorough and fair investigation."


Ember is at least herself enough to not swing a sword at Dycard's face or anything. "RrrrrrrOUT of my WAY, Dycard," Ember snaps, lifting up the visor to her helm and revealing her face. Her amber eyes are blazing with fury. "I am going to KILL these TRAITORS--"

Amund sheds the blood from his blade, turning to regard the direction the High Lord of the Thrax pointed. Then the Captain of the Thrax Guard ruins those plans, more or less, and so the knight reaches into his bag for a leather cloth, which he runs over the length of the blade, clearing it of the liquid crimson with a grim expression. He won't chase those that flee, but the prospect of assaulting an estate holds some appeal.

"Guests? GUESTS?!" Victus' voice raises. Although he doesn't take a further step forward. "You harbor murderers! The proof is all around us! This blood is their doing! People of Grimhall, Kennex, Tyde, Helianthus. They all lay dead at your doorstep! You have the nerve to call them guests?!" The grip on his blade is growing to a white-knuckled tightness. "Who? Who in there possesses the authority to grant them guest right? What Voice or Liege of Grimkin's has stayed in Arx, unharmed?"

"Dycard, let her go - she's in a blood craze and you'll be next on her blade." Came as a warning, seeing that Aedric was wounded but for the moment safe was caught up in the throng of those at the gates. The Siren of Setarco goes to check on Cornelius instead, "Go see your hand tended to, please."

"You /are/ permitted to ask guests to leave, however. If you do not, then as far as I am concerned, you are complicit in their crimes. Either way, we do not have to break into your walls to get them," Valdemar remains calm as he speaks to the Captain, then turns to Victus before going on pointedly, "This ground, outside your walls, is under the High Lord's jurisdiction. We can simply surround your estate until you give them up or they try to escape. Make your choice."

As she puts her hands on one of the fleers and takes them to the ground, Sorrel stands with a foot on their back and holds her sword up in a threatening manner. "Your 'guests' are there under false pretenses, for traitors are not covered by Gild's law," she points out as she continues to guard her prisoner. "And there is nothing keeping me from executing you on the High Lord's order."

The sword Scylla levels upon the one who is clearly the Captain of the Guard is driven forward a bit, the sharpened tip arriving precariously close to his neck. The barest sliver of a dark, dangerous smirk curls at one corner of her mouth. "Let me kill him, Your Grace. We can sweep through the estate and be done with this."

Haakon gets Flensing knife from natural sharkskin belt with brass buckle.

Haakon wields Flensing knife.

Trueth nods to Dycard. "It's no sense talking to her when she's like this," she advises Dycard, groaning quietly in pain. She watches Ember and then hides her head in her hands for a long moment before looking back up and taking in a deep breath.

Valdemar then steps closer to Victus to speak to him quietly.

Is the Guard Captain being paid enough for /this/? No, probably not. But his stance is set and his expression is in that fixed position of respectful noncompliance. "We offered shelter to those fleeing from the violence. As any decent, honorable House would do, under the circumstances, my lords. You have offered no proof that it's otherwise." He swallows hard at the threats from Sorrel, and Scylla. "Princess, Admiral," his hands come up, leaving him without a single hand on a weapon, and his voice rises again. "I beg you act with the dignity and mercy of your station. I have every faith that Thrax would never murder its vassals for simply protecting their guests. Right here. In public. With all these witnesses."

Haakon beheads his final foe at that point, in a pair of swift chops. Holding it by the hair to let the blood drain.

Nodding emphatically, Dycard offers a wide smile, incisors flashing in a shark-like manner as he took in the advice offered by others. "If you insist, my lady - for -my- part I will be helping Lady Azova tend to your family," he explained pointedly in hopes of appealing to her sense of duty and care through the bloodcraze. Backing away from the blood-crazed baroness he turned back to the make-shift infirmary and began helping to consolidate the casualties near the Darkwater grounds.

When it seemed that the last of the bounties were paid, Gaspar turned his full attention to the fresh melee brewing at the gates. Now, Gaspar slipped his own blade its sheath and tucked it rather awkwardly inside his sleeve. This was not his fight in any way, shape or form, but there was a vested interest in the outcome. Hands clasped together--as much as possible with the pommel of the dagger pressed against his palm--behind his back. Dark eyes swept those around to peer at the gate-captain in silent scrutiny.

Lucita watches as despite the best effort of the healing assistant the man bleeds out faster than the assistant can help. Lucita looks a little pale, then a lot pale as she shakes clods of blood from her hand, wiping them on the pavement. She stands and then, seeing nothing at which she could be of any use, heads into the Thrax estate.

Micana, an efficient assistant, 1 Saik Guard, Golden, an Oakhaven bloodhound, Gunther, a Rottweiler leave, following Lucita.

Her brother's discreet growling is acknowledged by a single nod from Natasha, taking a step back and folding her hands in front of her, fingers brushing over the empty left pinky and remembering the removal of her ring. Reaching for its familiar circumference, she secures it back into its rightful place. Otherwise, she is quiet, observing the proceedings with dark eyes and face fashioned in a careful neutral mask; they track Valdemar's drift to Victus' side, hearing her cousin's threats, but with her advice already dispensed to the person she is concerned about the most, she says nothing else about the matter.


With Dycard out of the way, the wild-eyed Ember clanks in her rubicund armor -- already crimson, now painted over with fresh red -- to stand alongside Victus and the rest. Her sword remains drawn and dripping, but she seems to catch herself before she can lurch into the fray and make things worse. With her helm's visor lifted, however, the guard captain can definitely see the Redreef 'Bloody Baroness' glaring at him and, y'know, if looks could kill, and so on.

The Prince's mouth twitches, his brows furrowed. His shoulders heaving up and down with every long, drawn out inhale of blood-stained air. While never breaking his gaze from the Captain of the Grimkin Guard, he does tilt his head back as Valdemar shares a few words. Victus' eyes briefly glance toward those that surround him in aid. Scylla, Haakon, Sorrel, Romulius. After a long moment of silence, he breathes his last... And calmly sets his sword on the ground. "I understand, sir. I understand. I want to deeply apologize for disturbing your watch at this time." He raises his hands, gently touching the Guard Captain on the shoulder. "You're a good man. Doing your job. I know."

Suddenly Victus steps back and places another hand onto Scylla's wrist. Then outstretches his opposite arm to land on Haakon's shoulder. "So I hereby pledge Thrax's help in ensuring your guests do not come to harm. Lord Haakon. Miss Scylla, and rulers of Blackshore. Baroness Ember..." Is Ember available to come to the phone right now? Probably not, but hey, he'll try anyway. "I would like houses Redreef, Blackshore and Eswynd to form a perimeter around House Grimkin's estate. For their own protection to ensure they are not harmed by any further violence. It would be poor form to abandon your fortifications now. There may be /more/ of them after all. /More/ violence. The last thing we, all of us, desire today."

Cornelius strided forward as Ophira rounded down upon him, finding some difficulty to wrap his whip back up to a docile state before he moved his arm, letting her see the fine damage the mob had done on his jaw and teeth. He spat out blood again, calling out in a rather strained voice but none too loud for anyone that far to hear, "...how convenient, after all. Who denies an investigation by their liege? This is tradition? Guests or not, they should receive their LIEGE at the gates. What is this farce..." He winced again, holding his jaw steady.

Azova finishes tending to the poor horse that was injured, and calls for several more of the Darkwater guards to help get the horse on some kind of cart or... something so that it can be moved to safer ground for now. After which, she finally begins paying attention again to the rest of those who need her care. And, the approaching Lord Dycard who just tried to calm the crazed Baroness. "Is there anything that might break through to her? A favored scent? That can be a powerful reminder." she suggests quietly, keeping another eye on what is going on around the Grimkin Estate. "I hope they pay dearly in the end for this. Pitting Islander against Islander. There was no need for this injury and death. None at all." And to Trueth, she tries to offer some measure of comfort. "Will it help you to assist in keeping people comfortable? Sometimes keeping busy helps me."

The guard captain flinches, juuuuust a little, at that gentle touch. He swallows hard, again. "Of, of course, Your Grace. I am grateful for your understanding." And then the Highlord goes on, and there's that little resigned twitch of his face. Like /I knew this was gonna happen, but I don't have to like it/. He licks his lips, looks at those assembled, and bows deeply. "Of course, Your Grace. The help is...appreciated." As much as sour milk, his expression suggests. And then he clears his throat and steps back. "For now, I'm sure you will understand if I need to see to the needs of our guests. May I be dismissed? Your Grace, Duke Valdemar?"

Haakon sniffs sharply. "Oh, aye. This last lad were running right for them," gesturing to the severed head held by its hair in his right hand. "A terrible thought what he'd have done, had he gotten inside." He'd have been safe, Haakon, he was fleeing for his life. "As the Thrax asks."

Valdemar takes a step back when Victus announces his decision, bowing his head to the High Lord. He then announces to the houses that were asked to form the perimeter, "If you need reinforcements or relief from house Grimhall, they will be made available. Unless his Grace has some other need of my men in the meantime?" His attention shifts back and forth then between the guard captain and the High Lord until the former asks if he is dismissed. "So long as his Grace has nothing further for you," he answers the man.

Scylla practically shouts in the Captain's face. "Your 'guests' discarded their cloaks bearing the colors and seal of House Helianthus and fled through /this/ gate." She says, pointing her sword rather forcefully toward the wrought iron structure towering behind him. She turns, then, wildly searching Highlord Victus' visage for the barest hint of his intentions, but...well, then he speaks his piece. At the gentle press of his hand against her wrist, the scimitar is lowered, and reluctantly sheathed. A wild, heated spark of anger flashes in her eyes, but she does verbally comply with his desires. "As you wish, Your Grace." A long exhalation of breath disturbs disheveled strands of umber hair which have invariably settled over her face, obfuscating some of her vision. It is when her gloved hand smooths those hairs away that she can finally see the horrid state the Square is presently in, crimson with blood, laden with bodies. Her ire only quickens thereafter.


At Victus's orders, Ember says nothing right away, but her look changes from a glaring feral snarl to a glaring smug grin. When she grins, she has blood on her teeth. Probably not her own!

"Let us pray for peace," Sorrel declares, and she shifts to allow her guards to take her prisoner off her hands for questioning. And certainly there will be questions, but somewhere more private.

Cornelius slowly panned his head over toward where those words came from, laughing lightly with a rather grim look as he shared the same blood-stained grin as Ember. Sadly, his own.

"Of course, Your Grace," Aedric replies, turning his attention to Scylla and Romulius. "Admiral, please fetch your sailors from the harbor, equip them appropriately, and have them assembled outside the Grimkin grounds before the hour's end. Romulius, send for a company from the Black Vanguard. You will assume command of these operations once they have reached the harbor," the sailor instructs, confident that they would be capable of completing these tasks in a timely fashion.

"Thank you kindly for the offer, Duke Valdemar. I'm sure we'll be taking you up on the offer, as Grimkin has a long history with their parent house." Victus bends down to reach for his blade again. This time grasping it not by the hilt, but by the half-way point of the blade. Ya' know. Less lethal holding it that way. Before he turns to go, he does give a brief nod to the Guard Captain. "Of course. As you can see, while some tradition I may not agree with, I do my best to live by their wisdom." He bows his head. "And in that wisdom, we shall see to it that attainted enemies and oathbreakers of Thrax find their punishment in the traditional manner. They shall go on the cross. Have a nice day, sir."

Shrugging helplessly at Azova's question, Dycard pads about offering kind words or exchanging jokes with some of the more lucid casualties. Stopping near a group of children, he attempts to amuse them with some sleight of hand tricks before moving on. Mustering some of the guards that had begun to proliferate into the square Dycard took charge of policing the bodies and seeing to anyone that may have avoided Ember's fury - the most honored of military traditions typically called 'moping up.'

Ophira is overheard praising Scylla.

Aedric is overheard praising Gaspar.

Ophira is overheard praising Cornelius.

Ophira is overheard praising Gaspar.

Ophira is overheard praising Aedric.

Aedric is overheard praising Haakon.

Ophira is overheard praising Ember.

Ophira is overheard praising Dycard.

Ophira is overheard praising Romulius.

Ember is overheard praising Victus: (leering, bloody grin intensifies)

Aedric is overheard praising Ember.



Having been helping get people to the healers, Xyander moves to where his leader is. The dark skinned man stretches and winces, "Duke Valdemar, what is it you need of me?" he asks having looked a bit roughed up but he's still ticking.

Valdemar is overheard praising Victus.

Ophira is overheard praising Valdemar.

Dycard is overheard praising Valdemar.

Dycard is overheard praising Victus.

Ophira is overheard praising Trueth.

Dycard is overheard praising Ophira.

Dycard is overheard praising Trueth.

Cornelius is overheard praising Dycard.

Aedric is overheard praising Dycard.

Dycard is overheard praising Ember.

Cornelius is overheard praising Romulius.

Dycard is overheard praising Aedric.

Cornelius is overheard praising Aedric.

Cornelius is overheard praising Gaspar.

Dycard is overheard praising Romulius.

Cornelius is overheard praising Scylla.

Cornelius is overheard praising Victus.

Dycard is overheard praising Scylla.

Dycard is overheard praising Cornelius.

Dycard is overheard praising Haakon.

Griffin is overheard praising Valdemar.

Cornelius is overheard praising Valdemar.

Cornelius is overheard praising Haakon.

Scylla is overheard praising Victus.

Cornelius is overheard praising Amund.

Griffin is overheard praising Dycard.

Cornelius is overheard praising Trueth.

Cornelius is overheard praising Azova.

Cornelius is overheard praising Griffin.

"Of course, Uncle." Romulius offers a bow to Victus and Valdemar. "Your Grace, Duke Grimhall. We will make you aware should any danger befall House Grimkin or their 'guests'." The Blackshore Minister of War then strides towards the Blackshore manse to set about summoning his forces, sabatons splashing through rain and blood.

Griffin is overheard praising Ember.

Trueth stands at Azova's words, moving to Lord Dycard. She listens to Azova's suggestion of a favored scent or something that make break through to her, approaching the Baroness slowly and moving to say to her, "Come now, Ember. There is enough bloodshed for one night... the streets are painted with it. You must save your strength for the oncoming battles." She strokes Ember's hair away from her face and smiles over at Azova. "It will be alright now. I would like very much to meet up with you sometime and discuss healing, perhaps help you after I've had some rest myself."

Scylla is overheard praising Dycard.

Romulius is overheard praising Victus.

Romulius is overheard praising Valdemar.

Romulius is overheard praising Scylla.

Romulius is overheard praising Gaspar.

Victus is overheard praising Valdemar.

Victus is overheard praising Ember.

Victus is overheard praising Sorrel.

Victus is overheard praising Haakon.

Victus is overheard praising Scylla.

Dycard is overheard praising Gaspar.