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

A winter's night in Bastion. Snow blankets the city in white that reflects the light of streetlamps and the stars. At the Cathedral of Bastion, the ceremony to symoblize the passing of the title of Seraph has finished touchingly, with more than a few of both the older generation and the younger tearing up at this passing of the torch of knowledge and faith. Afterwards, the formality of the ceremoney eases into celebration, with plenty of food, drink, and conversation to fill the cathedral. There is even music as some of the Faith's finest musicians regale those gathered with songs of praise.

The after party is in full swing and perhaps even touching on a bit boisterous when the sound of thunder fills the cathedral. A short pause and then another thundering boom loud enough to set the contents of glasses to shaking and even a few decoration spill off of pews and onto the marble floor.

The thunder continues, louder and louder until finally another sound moves to replace it.

Screams.

The Cathedral's doors are jerked open and frantic guards start shouting out to those within, "The walls of Bastion have fallen! The walls of the city are down!"

Reese is at the gathering while adorned in her armor and toting her sword. She seemed mostly warily on edge the entire party. The Templar never stared to drink and she never so much as danced. Upon hearing the screams, she sucks in a shpar breath and then another breath. She reaches for the sword, a silvery pink one and starts toward the doors.

Reese wields Devotion, a silvery pink alaricite short sword.

Viviana wields Twilight's Edge.

Michael wields a honed alaricite longsword with lion handguard.

Aella wields Stormcrow's Talon.

Savio wields Diplomacy, an elegant rapier.

Rosalind wields Raven's Final Whisper, a longbow.

Tesha wields wings of twilight oathlands steel longblade with twisted flames handle.

Marzio wields Stride's End, an alaricite spear.

Orelia wields Crescendo, a beautiful steel longsword.

Cahal stares out towards the city thats been revealed beyond the doors before hurrying to catch up with Reese. "I'll come with you Dame Reese."

Scythia wields a rubicund sword called The Blood of Redreef.

Sydney has no other reason to be here than two truths - she has always intended to visit this city properly, and it's the only sharding thing people have been talking about for days. Add the winter weather atop it all, and one has a rather compelling case for venturing further afield than usual. The common pugilist is dressed just as she was for the Assembly of Peers, which is doubtless to invite some raised eyebrows that she seems to thoroughly ignore. After all - there are refreshments to be raided, yet. It's most of what she's been doing. Eating, and annoying nobility. What more could a body want for?

And then comes the explosion. And the screaming. Sydney drops her plate, and it shatters to shards all around her. Fitting. "/Fuck./" For what else is there to say, just now?

In a flash Orelia's feet are off the table, her drink is cast aside, and she is tugging at her sword's bindings to free it. "And me!" she calls after Cahal.

Orelia wields A Siren Song.

A party is where one would normally find Kastelon Keaton - he's certainly the kind to avoid most big gatherings, but when it comes to duty, when it comes to needing to be ready to serve others and his house, he knows what he must do. And as such, he has made the journey to Bastion, but lurks by the edges of the festivities, with the most inoffensive drink he can find in his hand., as if he'd rather be anywhere else but there. The shouts, though...

His remaining hazel eye follows the motion when he hears Cahal shout to Reese, and the Keaton huntsman quickly falls into a run after them, grabbing his bow. "I'll come cover you both."

Surely one of the representatives of House Redrain, Gwenna came dressed in rather lovely snakeskin. The outfit seems meant to conjure visions of the Northlands - snowy white with hints of frost-blue and pale greens. Her jewelry, as well, is meant to compliment the vision, with a brilliant circlet set atop a conservatively braided bun, meant as a nod to her Oathlands side. The first rumble of thunder makes her cant her head, like, what was that? When it continues and the screams are heard, she grabs her quill and looks for a safe place to hopefully be out of the way.

Gwenna wields Elocution, an icelands diamondplate quill.

Among those at the afterparty, not far from Reese, is Drake, the count of Highhill. The party being in full swing and all, he was just about to get another glass of wine when the doors are flung open. Suddenly surprised by all of the fury and sound, he looks around to see if he can get his helm on before they all rush out into the reain and night. But he wasn't far from a sword himself, and is pulling on his cloak so that he has a little bit of additional protection against the weather.

Michael stands up from where he had been settled upon a couch at the growing sound of thunder, then rises further as a hand dips to the peacebound sword at his hip. There had been dancing and drinking and merriment earlier and perhaps the Duke had been looking forward to an earlier night but that is far from likely to happen now. It takes several long long moments to unwind the aeterna winding about his sword before its binding falls to the floor.

Drake wields Icewind, a Diamondplate Longsword.

Lucita looks over toward Scythia, with whom she had been chatting and her eyes widen, darken. A quick glance is given round the gathering as she seeks familiar faces, familiar people amid the crowd. "Gods have mercy, what is going on?" She sets her glass aside and her hand drops to her weapon but does not yet draw it. "...I do not think they will take offence if we are defending ourselves, will they?" She asks this of one of the nearby priests. "Or do we need to get outside?"

Audgrim lurks somewhere at the edge of the celebrations. He's watching the crowd, standing next to a few others of similar gear - a few other mercenaries, probably hired on by some noble or another, or perhaps they're just on holiday? Either or, they're not drinking nor doing a lot of socialising except with themselves, or if they recognize someone from Arx that might talk to them. The startling news have them looking at each other, and then Audgrim sends them off to do whatever job they are doing while he moves forward, readying his bow. He is seeking for anyone in charge. Oh look - Michael Bisland. He sidles over in his stalking manner and just nods at him.

Reese looks over to Cahal, nodding toward him. Her sword still drawn. She moves with the panther like grace of a well trained warrior. Her cheeks are drained of color. She then turns Sydney and Kastelon, nodding to them as well.

Seated at some corner, placid and alone, Gael's been harboring an *ungodly* amount of bottles while beneath the lampshading of a dark, dimlit hedge. Beneath its parapet, he drank. And he did so into unhealthy levels, alcoholic content thick still through his bloodstream. He's seized one of said glassy constructs by the neck as the guard comes charging in, and with eyes that twitch with incomprehension, with anger, with frustration, he glowers in the man's general direction. "What a terrible mess," he... burps.

Mabelle swivels around to the sound of music while devouring a piece of cake. She's a woman, she multitasks, but the sound of thunder puts her to a halt and the screams makes her drop it entirely. On a table, not a floor. With blue eyes widened, she takes a step back as others are beginning to assemble, looking puzzled while taking her little dagger out to defend herself. Just in case.

The ceremony and its reception are the first public appearance of Princess Katarina Valardin in the last few weeks. This is not especially notable unto itself, but what savvy trend-watchers might comment upon is that for the first time in around two years, the Eurusi-born Princess is appearing without one of the face-covering veils imported from her birthland. Katarina's been having a great time at the party, dancing and grinning (visibly so, even!) and even indulging one single glass of wine. Then chaos breaks out in the distance, and like everyone else, she hears about the walls. Katarina is dumbfounded for a moment, lips parted in shock -- and right next to her, Sydney drops a plate. The shattering glass makes the small Princess nearly jump out of her skin. "Ah--!"

Sir Bhandn came as part of the Faith's delegation. It was supposed to be a simple protective detail, and then a return to the city. He'd helped himself to some of the food and drink when the ceremony passed into that celebratory stage, but the sound of thunder catches his attention. A sigh passed his lips, as rain in armor was never pleasant, but then the second one happened, and another, and then the screams catch his attention and he's cursing under his breath. His weapons are peacebound, for propriety's sake, and right then there has to be an attack. On the city itself? He doesn't hesitate with starting to undo the knots binding Vigil from its bonds. There can be time for penance later, if it comes to that, but his first thought is the number of people in the cathedral of Bastion and how danger is coming.

Bhandn wields Vigil.

Scythia's hand slides down to grasp the hilt of her sword, not drawing it but keeping it touched as she remains next to Lucita. She exhales slowly as she looks to her friend, "If they do, then they are fools," she answers, her expression set in the same stoicism bred from her home. She doesn't withdraw the sword but she looks at Lucita, "We should wait. There are warriors to fight. We are the voices that might help direct to purpose or calm those that are hysterical."

Mabelle takes Apis, a cupridium parrying dagger from a fashionable hand bag.

Mabelle wields Apis, a cupridium parrying dagger.

The party is under way, and Marzio is rarely one to miss an opportunity for cheer, boisterous activity and most of all free booze. When the calls come telling of the city walls breached, Marzio's brows lift in surprise and he drops his flagon of mead, the contents spilling across the floor. "Ahh, shit," he says, but given the trajectory of his eyes it seems it is mostly that he spilled his mead on his boots. He sidesteps to get out of the puddle, then looks around to gain some perspective on who is rushing off into danger first. He watches as Orelia steps forward so quickly and almost winces as he reaches behind his back to place a hand on his spear.

There was a forewarning of sorts, amongst some of the Graysons. Lou was among those Graysons. This evening she opted to be outside the Cathedral during the after party, keeping watch. She's waiting there, fully armored, weapons at the ready, keeping an eye out to see if Aindre, Reese, and Liara will be coming out as soon as the warnings have come.

Gabriella Pravus is in mid sip of her drink when thunder booms and /booms/ again. When the next roll of thunder fills the cathedral, though, the princess has lost most of her drink on the floor as the screaming starts. Her sword is drawn as the guards start to shout and she side-steps quickly toward Raven. "That's not good." she says under her breath, her pulse beginning to quicken.

Gabriella wields Gluttony, the Sword of Tiberio Pravus.

Aella had been invited out to Bastion initially by her patron, Princess Jerrica, to see the city and celebrate the seraph's retirement. However, a chance encounter with Princess Lou left her wary, and wearing her armor and weapon to the party. When the thunder starts, she's alert, and when the doors to the cathedral burst open, she works to undo the peacebinding of her ax. She begins to follow Reese, Cahal, and others out. "We become the wall, then?"

Ryhalt ignores the first thunder since thundersnow is possible, but the repeated instances give him pause. He frowns at the screams and the shouting of the walls have fallen. Whatever conversation he'd been having falters as he rises to his feet to prepare for evacuation or whatever is next.

Viviana's drinking, lifting a glass of wine to her lips just before the alcohol within shivers, sploshes, and spills down the front of her coat. Highly annoyed, she starts to brush the wine away, and then turns to start plucking at the peace-ties on her blade, listening to the growing sound of thunder - and she waits, coolly, watching others leave. She'll remain - looking for others in the crowd that are most familiar.

Aconite who's been sitting chatting with Michael stands, eyes wide with alarm. "I'll help back here." She tells Michael with another frightened look the direction of the door. As people quickly arm themselves to head for the door Aconite searches the room and starts to move towards the others who may not be able to join the battle due to age or other reasons.

Rosalind came because well---Aella was chatting away and Rosa was all--SURE! And here she is. Not that she's dressed for a party. She doesn't have the proper anything. When the screaming starts though, the Ravenseye is quick with her bow. That never leaves her side. Ever. And she's fast to start nocking the bow.

It was a very nice ceremony and was then phasing into a very nice party that Veronica was enjoying. She has a bit of wine though she's not imbibing heavily, chatting with friends and acquaintances lightly when the thunder strikes. Or what seems like thunder, but not quite right? The noise is startling, the sudden voices of the guards even more so. Her wine is set down and she looks to her patron and her cousin. "We are not Grayson, but should we rally?"

Reese looks over to Mabelle briefly, sucking in a soft breath. She nods in approval at the drawn dagger. She then looks to her sister, giving Lou one o fher nods. She starts from the door.

Raven had been stuffing her face throughout the entire event like she'd fasted for a decade before this party, but she's been sparing in the libation in a fashion most unlike her. Those who came with her would notice she seems somewhere between ill tempered and restless however at the commotion and the cry she rises with a grimace and looks to Gabriella, "By your leave, I think it's time we returned to our ship, Princess Gabriella." In a tone that suggests she rather knows the princess will he having None of That.

Jamie is with a group of several other Knights of Solace and Templars, his armor polished to a ceremonial sheen. When the call is given that the walls of the city has been breached, he's right along with several of the other Knights, moving for the doorway, but doesn't yet draw his weapon. To the guard who reported the walls are down, he says, "Breached by what? Who is mustering the defense?"

Alantir wields Wyrmsong.

Deva was in the middle of handing a plate of food to Alantir while also juggling a very full glass of wine. "No, seriously you NEED to try these. They're amazing." As the thunder and screaming and panic sinks in, the wine spills all over her boots. "Oh shiiii--" she hisses, giving the Valardin a worried look. Then she starts to look all over, "Gwenna?!" There's worry in her eyes as she searches for her cousin, checking to make sure family is in fact still around and accounted for. She doesn't reach for her weapons just yet, but she does nod toward where the guards have emerged. "Let's go look."

Khanne is caught by surprise, like everyone else. She freezes with a glass halfway to her lips, about to take a drink, when the call is made. People are quick to react all around her, but she, for the moment, seems to just be looking for someone in the crowd.

Orelia is swift of foot as she crosses the room to stand beside Reese, her own blade flashing like rose gold as she stands ready.

Jerrica came for a retirement celebration. It's a princessy thing to do after all. The news that the walls of Bastion have fallen is unnerving. She takes shelter in the middle of armored people with weapons. This seems safest for now.

Kastelon nods back to Reese when he sees the acknowledgement, and already is getting an arrow forth from his quiver, setting it to the string of his bow as he's narrowing his eye and considering what could be approaching. "I promise not to shoot anyone in the backside," voices he to Cahal, Reese and Sydney, as he's trying to steady his breathing, and watch for whatever could present itself as a threat.

Valdemar is on his feet when the thunder starts, only to be followed by the news that the walls of the city have fallen. "That seems rather...abrupt," he remarks, almost as if to himself, as he reaches for the greatsword at his back. He then begins looking around for someone who knows the place; he is a guest here, after all.

Valdemar wields Widow's Lament.

Romulius Thrax is, surprisingly enough, *not* serving as any sort of escort for the evening, save for perhaps the Lord Cassimir Inverno. He lingers near enough to Voice of Inverno, both men garbed in plate armor - hardly a rarity for the prince, but perhaps somewhat out of character for Cassimir. At the onset of the commotion, there's a quick hushed word from Romulius to his companion. He doesn't seem to have any sort of reservations about drawing his weapon, alaricite clearing its sheathe with a hiss of metal across leather. The vivid blue gaze that serves as a clear signature of his bloodline looks through the crowd for a familiar face, eventually coming to settle upon Ian Kennex before cutting strides carry him in that direction.

Romulius wields Bainteoir, an alaricite greatsword.

Tesha had attended this occasion by herself as the other Telmar's were tending to other ventures. There was not really a need for armor given the occasion, but she'd peacebound her sword because Oathlanders needed some sort of metal next to them. When the screaming starts there is a bit of a moment taken to look around. Her lips pull down into a frown before she manages to catch sight of familar faces. "Well, I'm not just going to sit here." she mutters to herself as she hurries towards the doors and after a familiar face, "You don't mind if I join you, do you Duke Bisland?" she asks Michael.

Cahal falls into step alongside Reese and tugs his axe clear of his belt. He gives the peacetied cover a tug, remembers the ties, and spends the next few moments glancing down at the axe, looking up to make sure he isnt about to faceplant into a wall, and then glancing back down again as he frees it. "I'm Cahal." he tells Reese. "I think you know but" he shrugs "Better to make sure." he chuckles then at what Kastelon calls, his response muted a little by the situation. "Be sure you dont."

Prince Aindre has been at the Seraph's retirement party but for some reason he'd never quite settled in to enjoy the spectacle of it, restless and hanging around the back of the room with probably a few motley faces like Lord Ian Kennex and Lady Eirene Riven and Master Raymesin Ulbran. When word reaches the cathedral that the wall has fallen, a bit of the smoothness is wiped right off his face and that seeming restless finds a path into action. "That's less warning than I expected.", he says with a set of his jaw and something grim taking hold of his expression. He snaps off to one of the guards bringing the message, "We need to start rallying defenses around the vulnerable!".

Since the announcement of her betrothal, Jaenelle has decided to take on a more supporting role to the House she is stealing her next husband from, and this here she is enjoying all that Bastion has to offer. This is a newly formed alliance, after all, and her being there shows a willingness to take it seriously. Also, Liara's paying for the drinks, so why not? Her wine is held, paused on its way to her lips as the first scream happens, and there is a frown. She doesnt seem to like screams that are not planned for, and the small gathering of Lenosia guards she took with her suddenly seem on high alert as they move towards the Archduchess.

Sydney's hands don't reach for a sword, because there isn't one to reach for. She bares her teeth and shoves her hands into her coat pockets, pacing about like a caged animal as the party suddenly takes on an entirely different tack than it had before. Her eyes flit to those she knows. Gauging their actions. Their reactions. Their positions. That, somehow, seems more important to her than charging toward whatever made that awful explosion.

Standing near Jaenelle with a glass of wine in her hand, Sorrel looks concerned at the news. Deeply concerned. Not entirely ready to start running anywhere at this juncture, though. More information is required.

Drake feels at least he's in good company with Reese and Orelia both nearby. His own white blade is drawn out. It's seen a lot of action lately, so perhaps this is just another one of those nights. "Do we know who's leading these forces?"

Raymesin is with a small cluster of others, though he hasn't opened his cloak since he got here. When the door gets opened, the reason for his reticence becomes apparent - from within that cloak comes a helmet, and it's the work of a few moments for the tall man clad all in black to don his black-enamelled helm. When the cloak parts to reveal a breastplate as well, and a knife in Raymesin's gloved hand, it's probably not much of a surprise.

Lucita says, "Do we know who or what is attacking and do we need to move?" She keeps what she says short and sweet after glancing around and directs her question to Reese, who she knows as a former General and military leader."

Cassimir stands idly beside Prince Romulius Thrax, listening to boisterous conversation carried on in his vicinity. He's almost smiling - an effect no doubt produced by the glass of wine held aloft in his right hand from which he has sipped and refilled more than once. The fringes of his vision are just starting to blur when a crack of thunder shatters the glass he's holding and causes him to take a startled step backward. Green eyes list down to observe the mess, though he has no time to process it. Screams echo through the hall, and he's craning his neck with eyes wide to get a better view of the chaos unfolding. His right hand instinctively reaches for the hilt of the dagger sheathed at his belt. He wields it. Romulius's comment earns a stern nod, and a visible tightening of his jawbone as its clenched.

Although present at the cathedral, Liara may have struck an unusually distant figure to many, distracted, her mind simply elsewhere, and stepped out a few times to speak to one aide or another. The thunder draws her gaze for a time, lips pursed into a thin line, then when the doors are thrown up, she exhales sharply, a beat of pause taken, mouth briefly agape, before she calls briskly to the guards, "Get to the castle - assemble the army in the main square, such as can be mustered! And one of you to the harbour - we need sailors ashore."

Cassimir wields a Lycene stiletto dagger of high quality steel.

Gael stretches awkward and free from the confine of his auspicious chair, stumbling out into the open room with all the balance of a drunken stooge. His feet slide and drag, his shoulders list wonkily, and by the time he's by the door he's barged stupidly into the wall by Sydney. "We're going to die?" He presumedly asks the brawler, albeit distracted--he's adjusting his suit's flaps, as though to achieve the deed with a measure of dignity. Here, at the end of things.

Orelia shakes her head to Drake. "I don't, but I'm as ready as I'd be for any," she tells him. Her eyes stay focused ahead.

Eirene's been drinking -very lightly- during the party. That should have been a sign of something was off. Wearing the robes of her office of position, the aeterna of a master physician. When the thundering starts, she shrugs the robes off her shoulders into a heap, and the physician has been in her black leathers the whole time. She seems to have been expecting this and now things make sense. "Fuck me, they went for the walls" is all she says with a simple curse. Nothing elaborate - yet-. Save that for when they see what they're actually fighting. She stands a bit tall and hops onto a pew to look around the room. She nods at Aindre. "Right..." She bellows, "Let's get the civilians away from the doors and windows. Form a barriacde with the pews, and if we can get the Faith and civvies out of here to somewhere secure, someone fuckin' tell me."

Savio literally just left the walls-have-fallen party at the end of the last war! NO! This is bad. He was just enjoying such a good (actual) party and congratulating himself on appearing like a good peer at an event for good peers when the cry comes from the frantic guards, causing him to gasp and nearly drop a glass to join Sydney's plate. He reaches for the rapier that was just supposed to be showy tonight, not USED. "Ian??" If the Kennex lord can be spotted he will head that way, which might bring him nearer Romulius as well. Far grimmer circumstances here tonight than their usual sort of battles on longships a the edge of the world...

Adalyn's glass is lifted halfway to her lips when the sound of thunder first reaches her ears. Alert caution turns to focused energy when the shouts of warning arrive, her drink tossed aside in favor of reaching for her weapon. Nimble fingers hastily undo the peace binding to remove the sheathe covering the spear head. She straightens up, ready for whatever is to come. "Breached by whom. That's the question, it seems." Still, that matters less than the fact that there's an active threat and she moves to Michael's side, ready to join her patron in whatever efforts unfold.

Adalyn wields a diamondplate spear ringed with duskstones.

Gwenna hears her cousin's voice and lifts a hand, which she waves a couple of times. "I'm fine, Deva!" Which, really, is anyone at the moment? "Don't worry!" With that called over the din of voices and preparations, she glances around to find a place to be Out Of The Way. Espying Jerrica, she makes her way toward the other princess, who seems to have the same idea.

Eirene wields Dawnstrike, an elegant diamondplate longsword.

"We are the defense." Reese says to Jamie and she spars a smile for the other knight if time allows. A hopeful and yet still troubled smile. She then looks to Drake, sucking in one her sharp breaths. She then looks to Lucita. "I don't know by who, but we will defend, Gloria be with us."

An otherwise pleasant, if not somber, evening ruined by someone (thing?) yet to be determined. Alantir Valardin stands after the guard makes his unexpected declaration, right gauntlet dropping instinctively to the hilt of sheathed longsword, and offers Deva a nod to confirm that he would follow suit. Whatever was happening, it seemed to be happening /outside/ -- away from the festivities.

Rosalind makes her way to Aella, comfortable. Sorta. "And you said I'm the one that talks you into things." She smiles over at Jerrica, nodding since her hands are full. "Hi!" Rosa's arm's are pretty steady at the moment.

Reese adds. "Anyone who is not a fighter, try to stay behind the fighting line. We will do our best to defend."

Mabelle looks between Liara and Eirene and she asks the latter, "Well which is it? Should we set up here or in the castle where its safer? We should get people out of here before its too late"

Raymesin wields The Wheel's Edge, a diamondplate dagger.

It may not be the right time, but Aella grins at Rosalind. "Sorry." Then, to Jerrica, she's motioning the woman back. "Get to safety, you know this city. Stay with the others who aren't able to fight." She looks around, lifting her voice over the crowd, "Viviana!" She grabs Rosalind's arm and tries to make her way toward the Pravosi princess.

"I don't have to be told twice," Khanne says after Reese directs non-fighters to stand behind. She had found the someone she had been looking for and sent them to collect her things, just in case, but as of yet, she is without protection or weapon.

"What the fuck breeches the wall in that short of time," Audgrim asks nobody in particular.

Outside, the streets have exploded into chaos. In the darkness, it is more difficult to discern what is going on, of course, but what light is available shows that people are running down the streets while others are peeking their heads out of shops and houses. The city guard is already in formation and headed toward the direction of the walls. Horns sound in the darkness and there are other shouts, wild cries. Another loud crash and the sound of stone crumbling apart fills the air just before a loud, bestial roar of triumph sounds out over the cries and shouts (and growls and snarls?) that fill the streets of Bastion.

Within the Cathedral, those gathered for the party seem shocked at first and look to the luminaries amongst them for guidance as to what to do next.

Another guard comes rushing into the Cathedral, bleeding and gasping for breath as he barks out, "They are everywhere. The gates, the harbor, advancing on the palace. Everywhere." He slumps down against a pew and tries to catch his breath.

Aconite wields a diamondplate hairpin of an opal comet.

The path to the harbor is chaotic and there seem to be more people running away from it than toward it. As they grow nearer to the river harbor, the shattered remains of stone and wood where buildings once stood greet them. There is rubble in the street along with bodies that are being tramples in the chaos. A roar cuts through the cacophony and something very large looms in the darkness. Another thundering crash and the screams of the terrified and the dying are all around, a wall of sound. In parts, the road is blocked with rubble and requires the use of alleys and climbing to get past.

Ian is suspiciously well armored, even if he's not wearing an obvious weapon aside from the cane. He seems to be following Aindre's directions tonight, but as the group starts for the harbor, saying quick goodbyes to Raymesin on the way, he manages to scoop up Romulius. Metaphorically speaking. Romulius is heavy. Given the chaos that swirls around them, he's a center of absolute serenity and focus. He speaks with a scalpel when speech is necessary, helping his group to work their way towards the harbor.

Romulius Romulius, for all of his typically composed carriage, does not seem to be unaffected by the chaos of the city. "That isn't a wolf." He must have *some* reason for pushing towards the harbor, whether it's to drag Cassimir to an escape or to stay near the Sword of Stormward, because dismay does not keep him from cutting the path towards the harbor. He makes no efforts to hide being dressed for war - only lately, Seraphs are dropping like flies and wolf attacks are seemingly more common than ever. Not that it's at all uncommon to see a scion of Blackshore dressed in plate, and the alaricite greatsword is something of a symbol of the Royal House of Thrax's princes. He makes every effort possible to assist Ian in ushering the group forward, his former patron an easy example to follow.

Aindre keeps his eyes off the many bodies just fine. He only seems to have attention for his goal as he reaches the site of the harbor and the destruction that's been wrought upon it. It's easy to feel small in the midst of chaos the likes of which Bastion has maybe never seen in memory so he calls out to the people who are fleeting in the opposite direction, "Citizens of Bastion, rally! If we do not secure the harbor there are none who will make it out of here by land in the dead of winter and hunted!", in as loud and commanding a voice as he can, one prepared by the several wars he's been in by now. He has his hammer in-hand now and he's heading for the sounds of violence.

Mirk had only just arrived at the party when things took a turn for the worse, and in the chaos he did what he normally does: He sought out his kin and those he trusts, and attempted to remain close to them. "Cousin, Lady Volcica," he calls out, beckoning them towards him as he begins to evacuate towards the harbor. He's in steelsilk and fireweave, so he's perhaps better off than most if danger should come his way, but he seems anything but confident in his safety: His eyes are wide, his normally stoic expression giving way to uncertainty at the crashes and the sounds of the dying. But he keeps moving determinedly.

Rosalind totally carrying her bow. It never leaves her. Unless you know, she HAS to. As the people are yelling and running, she stays calm though her face appears a bit sad. She too is running toward the harbor to help with whatever is needed.

Eirene had enough time to clasp Raymesin on the shoulder before he ran off to the chaos of the other streets. She follows close to Aindre with her blade in hand and her coat buttoned entirely for extra protection of the cardian leather. "They probably sent fomori to attack the walls," she surmises, pausing to listen to the roaring as they run. "Which means killing them will be a nightmare..." She shakes her head, not her problem at the moment. "You heard the prince, fuckin' rally," she shouts out, her voice used to battlefields and cold night air. "Because they're AT the walls and the harbor is best option to get civilians out."

Cassimir follows close behind Romulius until they've united with a gaggle of others heading for the harbor. He's keeping up just fine for the moment, looking this way and that to see if anyone passing is in need of assistance, or can be convinced to assist. However, it seems most Bastion citizens have died or scattered, and the only people running /toward/ the harbor are...well, armed and armored, or seem to know what they're about to get themselves into. Except for maybe him. Unfortunate. Romulius asserts that their enemy is not a wolf, which draws Cassimir's brows low with visible concern. He's still holding his weapon steadily in one hand, and attempting to stay alert after imbibing two glasses of wine.

Ian chuckles low under his breath. "Look on the bright side," he comments to Eirene with a twist of irony in his voice. "It could be gargantuans." Of course Ian would decide now's the time to start making jokes. What he doesn't do is try to rally anyone, not yet; his electric blue eyes, almost luminous in the night, move often, taking in details one after the other. He's pretty clearly too focused on sizing up the situation to start giving orders.

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

Eirene checks command and leadership at hard. Eirene fails.

Khanne managed to get her armor out of her bag and onto her body before starting to go off towards the harbor with Mirk and Volcica, even if she was still fastening it in place as she ran with the others. She sees the rubble, the bodies, but tries to keep going. It is not the first time she has seen the horrors of war. She doesn't have a moment to truly think about what is happening yet, which is probably for the better, for now. She hears the roar and pauses for just a moment. "Shit... that..." She looks towards Mirk, but keeps on heading towards the harbor.

Volcica arrived more or less on the heels of Mirk, just before chaos erupted. It's Aindre's voice that catches her first, dark eyes glinting at the prince. A spark of recognition, before she's hurrying to Mirk. "Do we know what's happening yet?!" She holds a hand out to Khanne. Support? Who knows!

As both Aindre and Eirene speak to those that run by, Aindre is far more successful at rallying than others as they recognize the visage and commanding voice of the Grayson Voice. Some even seem relieved and start to grab others to follow in their wake, clinging to any semblance of safety in the midst of terror. Another roar shakes the buildings and rubble around them. In the moonlight, a massive form looms into view, several times taller than any of the buildings around it. A large fist crashes into one of the harbor buildings, reducing it to rubble in an instant. The people that Aindre had rallied, upon see the form of the gargantuan revealed, scream in horror and start to flee once more.

Khanne checks composure at daunting. Khanne fails.

Mirk checks composure at daunting. Mirk marginally fails.

Romulius checks composure at daunting. Romulius fails.

Eirene checks composure at daunting. Eirene fails.

Ian checks composure at daunting. Ian is successful.

Rosalind checks composure at daunting. Rosalind fails.

Aindre checks composure at daunting. Aindre fails.

Cassimir checks composure at daunting. Cassimir fails.

Aindre doesn't look back to Volcica, though he calls out an answer to her question as he hears it amidst the chaos. "There have been attacks in the area as of late. We came across word of a possible attempt at a siege by gathering shavs. It looks like they skipped the siege part and they probably have help." He hefts that hammer of his until he's two-handing it. Of course then there's a beast, some sort of gargantuan thing taller by several times than the buildings around it and that hammer of his slips from one hand to hang in the other again as his resolve staggers beneath the sight of such an impossibly large creature. "I.. am going to need a bigger hammer..", he says a little more quietly to someone, probably Ian.

Ian checks command and leadership at daunting. Ian fails.

Volcica checks composure at daunting. Volcica fails.

The sight of the gargantuan draws Ian up short, but, well, he DID just say he expected to see one. And this is clearly not the first one he's ever seen. He draws up, shifts his grip on his cane, and says something under his breath about Lucita that doesn't carry. Then, louder: "We're alright. This isn't the first one of these things I've seen, and I'm not dead yet." It's probably the 'yet' that takes the power out of his words, for all that he sounds calm and focused.

If Romulius was shaken before, the sight of the gargantuan and the sheer destructive power it brings to bear manages to give pause to the Sword of New Hope. Pause is generous, perhaps, and for far longer than a moment he's dismayed by the creature. This is not a man who was present at the Battle of the Lodge, or the main efforts against the Gyre - whatever experience he has combatting horrors of the Abyss does *not* extend to any monstrosity like this one. He manages to at least find his voice, an aside to Cassimir that doesn't find its conclusion. "Cassimir, if you..." His typical rigorous politesse is absent, and eyes shift around those not fleeing outright to look for some sort of indication about how they could possibly fare against such a foe. Ian is a comfort, at least.

A *small* comfort.

Khanne is not /new/ to seeing gargantuans, but the last time she faced one, she was expecting it. There was a plan. That plan would not work here... When the fist crashes through a building, Khanne turns to see the rubble fall, all that was within probably destroyed. Her eyes go wide and she back pedals a couple steps until she falls on her ass. Thankfully, she had let go of Volcica's hand in the process, or there might be too shamans in a pile. "Fuck...." She looks to Mirk again and Volcica. "FUCK!" She scrambles backwards some more, half in effort to stand, and half part of her internal flight mode being kicked in.

Mirk spots the gargantuan, recognition on his face at the familiar form. For a moment, he holds his composure. "We know a ritual," he says to Khanne, "We can sunder a gargantuan. We've done it before. A ritual..." A pause, the hope on his face fading. "That requires thirteen names. Thirteen specific names, with sacrifices for each..." Whatever strong front he had been maintaining until then crumbles as he realizes he has nothing to face this creature with besides a bow. He begins backing away from the creature, frantically looking about for escape routes, ways to reach the harbor without going anywhere near that gargantuan.

Eirene is running hard and occasionally hopping over a trampled body or pile of rubble in her attempt to get there quickly. But she skids to a literal halt when she sees that massive fist and what it's attached to. She's read about them. She's fought similar. But this.... is different. Her blue eyes widen and she lets her jaw go slack. "Lagoma' flaming farts," she says in a breathy voice. "We're humped.." Then she looks at Ian and manages a pale-faced grin. "You had to say it."

Rosalind is running. And running. She'll likely turn to check on her follow northerners because well--that's what a person does. As far as gargantuans, when it pops out, Rosa rounds her large haze eyes and practically stops. "What--in--spirits is THAT,"her bow almost dropping. Obviously she's never seen one.

"..Maybe I can find the names. We can make tokens to represent sacrifices, or make the sacrigices ourselves. There's so many dead, I'm sure I can do something.." Volcica's staring at the Gargantuan, frozen. She's rambling, wbich she never does.

Volcica says in Everwinter shav, "..Maybe I can find the names. We can make tokens to represent sacrifices, or make the sacrigices ourselves. There's so many dead, I'm sure I can do something.." Volcica's staring at the Gargantuan, frozen. She's rambling, wbich she never does. "-fuck-"

Aindre spends maybe too long of a moment in equal parts fear and awe both, staring up at the larger-than-life monstrosity that's met them at the harbor he's trying to secure. Finally though, he seems to set his jaw against the emotions once more and put that old Grayson can-do back on his face and he looks back to the other people around him and near him. "There are ballistae prepared to defend the harbor but that /thing/ is between them and us! If you're feeling like you can take a blow or you make for better bait, you're with me! I need people on those weapons and firing them while we make for a fine distraction! Extra points if you're versed in siege weapons!".

Volcica says, "..Maybe I can find the names. We can make tokens to represent sacrifices, or make the sacrigices ourselves. There's so many dead, I'm sure I can do something.." Volcica's staring at the Gargantuan, frozen. She's rambling, wbich she never does. "-fuck-"

Cassimir runs forward, but the moment that the gargantuan is revealed as their assailant, he suddenly stops moving at all. He's frozen in place, stricken with terror, and can't seem to find the strength or sensibility to turn tail and run. The grip he has upon his small, inconsequential blade tightens instinctually as a rush of adrenaline surges through his whole body. It's time to fight or flee, and the only thing that causes him to reconsider the latter option is Ian's fairly confident response. He's fought it and is still alive. Maybe...maybe there's hope? Then talk turns to sacrifices, names, and rituals. Cassimir turns his attention to Mirk and Volcica. "How can I help?" he inquires suddenly; the terror seems to have lifted from him long enough to speak and try to offer something...anything.

Ian touches Mirk's shoulder. "We don't need to sunder it. We just need to slow it down enough that it can be killed. If you've got something like that up your sleeve, I'll make sure you have whatever you need." That sense of stillness about him only seems to grow, a serenity that goes from profound to unnatural, pure focus. Like a cacophony fading into a single, pure note.

"We ain't got time for names," Eirene says, looking from Volcica to Mirk, "we gotta get that thing somehow pinned down so we can shoot the ever-living-fuck out of it with the ballistae. That's the only way to do this without magic, which we don't have." She looks around the rubble and the ruins and tries to see where they might be able to try to keep it "Unless we can find a way to bind 'em to the ground so we can shoot 'em. Maybe we can kite the damn thing into some rubble so it'll stay put."

"Without the names of thirteen souls sacrificed to create that...abomination, I have nothing," Mirk says, shaking his head at Ian. "Normal soldiers sometimes managed to fence them in, but the cost was always terrible. Firing ropes from siege weaponry...If we have ballistae, we could attach ropes. Try to use them that way, even if we can't get an accurate shot..." He's grasping at straws now, and it shows, but he's trying, at least. He's standing firmer than he had been in those first moments.

Back on her feet, Khanne looks as if her thoughts are trying to catch up to the world around her. Seeing that gargantuan really threw her off guard. "Sure, go to Bastion they said, celebrate the Seraph, they said... have a drink, they said... They said nothing about this!" Her hand flings out towards the terrorizing monster before she closes her eyes, taking a deep breath and calming herself. "Has to be the names it was made with though... the people trapped inside. I don't know if there's time..." Her hands are fluttering, needing something to do. Khanne is often a woman with a plan, she goes into things with an idea of what is about to take place and how she will face it. She is /unprepared/ for this. "I'm not a fighter, except when I have to be. I can shoot some arrows at it... they might hit, sometimes..." She looks downright apologetic about it, then nods, agreeing with Mirk's words. Glancing between him then Volcica, her shoulders lift. "We could try working with the elements? The Spirits?" She doesn't seem 100% sure about that, given how the gargantuans are made.

"I'm never listening to Aella ever again,"Rosa tells Khanne. Sorta in agreement. She looks around the group, telling them,"I can uh...sneak off. Shoot it with arrows, annoy him. I'm told I'm good at that,"the Ravenseye mentions. Rosalind isn't exactly sure what to do at the moment, she's used to only a couple things..And prepared for something of that size wasn't it.

All throughout the city of Bastion, the skies are full of swarming locusts. Oddly, the swarm seems to be mostly centered around the castle of Grayhold.

Rosalind checks composure at normal. Rosalind fails.

With the screams and the smoke and the other delightful chaos to distract the gargantuan, it doesn't seem to have noticed them yet. The longer they watch it, the more it becomes apparent that the destruction isn't random. Something appears to be perched on its shoulder, but it is cast in shadow and no details able to be seen. People are still scream. There are sounds of children crying. The gargantuan lumbers over toward the docks, scoops a ship out of the water with its bare hands, and throws the thing toward the city with a roar that almost sounds like glee.

From the direction of the harbor, a full sized boat soars through the air, dropping debris and providing a view of the hull as it soars overhead clear across the city and lands somewhere in the noble district of the city.

Khanne wields Bloom's Fall, a rubicund bow.

Rosalind suddenly stiffens, her eyes not as bright as they once were. There is nothing soft about her usual kind features, nope. There's sheer anger on her face and she runs directly at the gargantuan. Her red hair flies behind her as she leaps over bodies and whatever else is in her way. She has a purpose and one purpose only. Tunnel vision it is. "I will end you,"Rosa cries out, running, her bow getting ready.

Ian closes his eyes for a moment. "Alright. I need one person with a bow and a deathwish. Better shot is better. I need a lot of you to shelve your deathwishes and get to the ballitae, because you are going to have to be fast." He points at the figure perched on the gargantuan. "I need someone to shoot at that person and then run. Prince Aindre, please don't make me explain to the Queen why you're dead. Get to the ballista."

Eirene answers Ian, "Looks like you got your person with a deathwish," as Rosa takes off like a shot towards the monster. "I ain't got a way to hit that thing short of chopping at its ankles, so when it's distracted, let's fuckin' run for the ballistae." She says this to the others. She stares at the gargantuan and the veiled 'driver' as if considering something but she shakes it off. "Good way to go fuckin' mad," she says, mostly to herself.

Aindre watches as the gargantuan moves over to scoop up a whole SHIP and HURL it into another part of the city. "By the Gods..", he says, probably not even loud enough for anyone to hear him. That his attention is so squarely on the beast though means it's hard to miss the something that's perched on that massive shoulder however. As Ian's calling out a plan, he turns to tell the man. "As soon as we start laying into it, it's not going to ignore the ballistae.", followed by a heartbeat's worth of a pause and then, "What I'm saying is, you're on round one. Don't /you/ make me explain to my cousin why /you're/ dead. I'll get them firing. Don't overstay your welcome if you're wearing down in the dance." He turns to Eirene, "It's distracted right now! For the time being. Let's go." Then he calls out to anyone else looking to man a ballistae, "This way!", and moves on at a hustle.

Romulius has no hesitation in deferring to the Sword of Stormward's better judgment - Ian was the prince's patron prior to his climb in station for a reason, and it's not as though the former Blackshore lacks experience in siege weaponry. There's an effort, even if it's nominal, to bring Cassimir along with him if an opportunity presents itself to make for the ballistae. After all, he's killed a great many massive creatures in his life, whaling, even if none were vaguely humanoid shaped. "Lord Ian - do not give me a reason to need to make any explanations to Zoey." Nobody, it seems, wants to explain *anything* to *anybody*.

Cassimir sheathes his dagger; he's not going to need it for this fight, nor for what he's about to do. And then, he prepares to run for it with Eirene and others who have agreed to make the mad dash to the ballistae. His eyes shut, and when they've opened, he's focused. "Romulius," he mutters to the Prince flanking him, though he does not say a thing. It's a wordless communique, expression that rarely transforms his face. Good luck. Be safe. Take care of the others if anything ill should befall them.

Ian draws the alaricite blade from within his cane. "Mangata, if you're listening, I hope this is what you had in mind," he says, jamming the cane part of his cane in the ground where he'll be able to find it later, assuming he's in any state to find anything later. "Because this is what I'm doing."

"Looks like Rosalind is already on it," Mirk mutters at Ian's orders. No titles. Yes, he is under that much stress. "I'll remain here with the shamans and try to keep the civilians organized. I'm no use in a fight." He draws his bow and strings it, though he doesn't fire yet. "Citizens, rally. Do not attempt to approach the harbor until you have our signal," he shouts at the surviving civilians, holding up his weapon to draw their attention. "Anyone with spears or other weapons, to the front." He remains beside Khanne and Volcica, standing as guard even as he attempts to attend to the mundane matters of leadership.

Mirk checks command and leadership at daunting. Mirk is successful.

From the direction of the southern streets of Bastion, an unholy shockwave of tremors emits from the ground. Then a massive centipede, taller than many of the buildings peeks its head up as it tosses several human beings into the sky and screeches before descending again.

Volcica looks to Mirk and Khanne, and then to the carnage. "I think we can get the names. I haven't done the ritual, Elder Mirk. Will you guide us while we find what we need?" She looks for a pile of rubble, somewhere there are corpses and maybe a little shelter. Maybe. She sits, pulling a little bag of bones and a carving knife from her pack. They're all placed within reach. "Recently deceased, I call you. I offer my aide as a deathspeaker, in return for your help against the threat that killed you. We need thirteen names to break this gargantuan, thirteen sacrifices. We need those that yet live to survive, to land their shots and strikes. We need your help, while you linger. When it is safe, we will see you to the Flame, and to the Queen. Help us, and you will be avenged." Volcica speaks, first in Arvani and then in a strange whispet that doesn't translate for the living.

Increased screaming erupts in the direction of the western gate, as those who have managed to get out are suddenly attempting to get back /in/. Above the screams, wolf howls are suddenly heard, horrible and wrong to the ears.

Volcica checks mana and occult at daunting. Volcica fails.

Khanne spent some time talking to Volcica back and forth on what options there might be. At onbe point, she looked up to see Rosalind running towards the gargantuan. "Rosa!" She bites her lip. "I did the ritual... it was...." She shakes her head and murmurs. "Not easy." When the plan is decided, Khanne takes a breath and steals herself. She closes her eyes and backs up Volcica. "If you can hear me, those lingering here, your souls recently rendered, before you see the Queen. Can you help us get revenge? Will you help us?"

Khanne checks mana and occult at daunting. Khanne is successful.

Rosalind checks dexterity and archery at easy. Rosalind is successful.

Eirene checks dexterity and athletics at normal. Eirene marginally fails.

Romulius checks dexterity and athletics at normal. Critical Success! Romulius is spectacularly successful.

Aindre checks dexterity and athletics at normal. Aindre is successful.

Cassimir checks dexterity and athletics at normal. Cassimir marginally fails.

Rosalind is busy attacking at gargantuan, claws out. THey needed a distraction, so hey---Not that she realizes she's a distraction. Rosa's face is red as she starts attacking, all arms and legs. Kicking, teeth barred. Hopping back, making sure she has a decent enough distance between herself and her opponent, Rosa nocks her arrow. Everything about her demenaor is tunneled and one tracked. Taking a breath, the Ravenseye releases her arrow, watching it fly.

Ian checks dexterity and medium wpn at daunting. Ian is successful.

Rosalind checks dexterity and dodge at daunting. Rosalind fails.

Ian checks dexterity and dodge at daunting. Ian is successful.

As the giant centipede errupts from the ground, the gargantuan is momentarily distracted. It reaches out in that direction, but whatever is perched on its shoulder hisses and its hand slowly lowers. It returns to stomping toward a warehouse to begin methodically pounding it over and over in effort to flatten it. It also flattens many of the locusts that have wandered over this way from the castle area. Mirk manages to successfully keep people from running about and getting in the way, though they are obviously in a state of utter panic. Rosalind has already launched herself at the gargantuan and manages to literally -bite its ankle-. At first, it isn't even sure HOW to react. Then, she steps back, tries to use her bow, and it breaks in her hands as she is too enraged to actually fire the thing. Back to ankle biting it is. While it is distracted and starting to kick at Rosalind, Ian manages to stab it in the calf with his sword, making the beast howl in rage and pain. It kicks out at them in fury. Rosalind is kicked to a different pier, which doesn't seem to faze her at all and she keeps coming at the beast. Ian manages to narrowly roll out of the way.

Aindre, Eirene, Romulius, and Cassimir run toward the ballistae at the other end of the docks which are covered in locust carcasses. Eirene and Cassimir start to slip, but Romulius runs up behind them, grabs them by the arms and drags them with him to the ballistae.

Volcica and Khanne appear to be attempting to rally the dead. As Volcica speaks, the air crackles with energy momentarily. Then, the locusts that remain start to fly toward her. Covering her. -Biting- her. Khanne manages to, somehow, get them off her, but Volcica is left bloodied in their wake.

Ian lashes out with a powerful, two handed slash, swift and well-targeted, across and down, while he steps sideways and drops into a roll, then comes up ready to push the attack. He can hear the running, the locusts, the sound of Rosalind growling, but his focus is on his target. On keeping his target from paying attention to the ballistae. If that takes another attack, so be it.

Better late than never, Jamie arrives from another part of the city, still clad in his finely polished Knight of Solace garb... which will do absolutely nothing against the gigantic being that is literally hurling ships in the harbor. He takes a minute to take stock (actually, to get over his awe at seeing this), and then spies the group heading for the ballista. At a dead run he sets out, knowing full-well how to operate and fire one of those machines of war.

Rosalind feels herself FLYING through the air. FLYING! She growls as she hurries back to attack, in every way she can. Rosa has NO idea what all is going around her. None. She just knows she wants to take down the giant in front of her. And she tries, over and over. Bow? What bow?

Eirene's boots hold no purchase on the ground as she nearly skids on bugs. Everywhere, locusts. She grabs at a scarf around her neck and uses it to cover her mouth but then she IS slipping with her next step. Romulius is there, arm looping through hers and hauling her onto more secure planks of the dock. A sharp nod of thanks is given and then she's right back to booking it. There it is, the ballistae. "If only we had a fuckin' platinum lance," she murmurs, glancing over her shoulder at Ian and Rosa fighting the monster. "What's that guiding it," she inquires, catching her breath and turning to try to better see it. "WHO is that guiding it," is the better question.

Aindre hustles as hard as he can even though he's taking a wide berth around the rampaging gargantuan, wide enough to stay out of collateral damage range should it come to that. "We have to hammer that thing down before it can find a lucky opening!". He must not mean with his actual hammer, because he stows that thing and instead he starts working one of the ballistae that've been prepared in the defense of the harbor. He adjusts as well as he can, this just in time to see Rosalind go flying and Ian lunging in for his attack and stark fear crosses his features at the sight of someone just being hurled to the next pier over. "I don't know, but if we can hit it we should.", the Grayson prince calls over to Eirene before letting fly a lance out of the weapon he's made it to.

Cassimir arrives to the ballistae with special thanks to the herculean Romulius who has to practically /drag/ him to the destination. A grateful look is shared with him, and then he sets himself to the task of assisting with loading a ballista so that someone with far greater knowledge of weaponry of this type can actually operate it. Someone like...Jamie Greenmarch, who arrives just in time. When the others inquire after the person guiding the gargantuan, Cassimir twists around to peer up at the creature's passenger, shrouded in shadow and mystery. He squints hard in an attempt to identify it, them, somehow.

Romulius Thrax is a great many things, but perhaps more than anything he is an oft-stifling bastion of protectiveness. It's exactly this fact that has him gathering up Cassimir - a close friend, ostensibly - and the Lady-General Eirene in his rush towards the ballistae. After all, there's a literal monster present, and all hands to the siege weapons are ones that can potentially land a killing blow. He mercifully doesn't see Rosalind literally thrown aside, but Eirene's call to attention for the figure on the creature's shoulder draws cerulean in that direction. It's far too small, relative to the garguantuan, to make out clearly, but every indication is that it holds some sort of sway over it. You can hardly aim a ballista at so insignificant a target, but ultimately they've pushed for the ballistaes for a reason.

"There's something on its shoulder," Jamie calls as he joins the group at the ballistae. The big Greenmarcher isn't putting himself into the aiming position, but he /is/ cranking, winding, and loading the bolts, the big man positioning himself behind the winding crank and putting his feet in the stirrups before his corded arms move the crank as quickly as he can. "Need help loading!" He glances up at the beast towering above them, trying to make out the thing on its shoulder even as he winds the torsion cables as quickly as he can.

Volcica flinches as the locusts swarm, but she does her best to sit still, and calm. She does her best to reinforce her will, voice and power. "We fight so more don't fall, so more don't end up chained. Your death does not have to be in vain. Help us, and go to the Queen with heads held high. We need thirteen names. We need shots to fire true. We need our fellow mortals to survive." A litany of ways to help. "I will tell your loved ones of your fate. I will find your heirlooms and pass them on. I will carry your name until the day I die." The locusts can bite. Volcica will continue. "We fight the followers of Legion, of Orichalcum, of the Horned God. Those that have been wronged by them, killed by them, kinslayed by them, I ask you to help us, and I will help you. I swear it in my heart, my bones, my soul."

Mirk watches the battle, seeing signs of terrible events from elsewhere in the city, and murmurs a quiet prayer to the spirits. Then he turns his attention towards the others, shouting out in surprise and fear as Volcica is covered with the locusts. Rallying himself, as much as he rallied the others, once she is protected. He shouts another reminder to the civilians, urging them to remain where they are and avoid becoming targets, but he seems content with where they are. "Lady Volcica, be careful. I believe those locusts may be targeting anyone that attempts to use magic. Countering his real threats...If only we had some wind, it would be harder for them to fly freely..." He pauses for a moment, seeming struck by an idea. He begins whispering quietly, the words mostly indistinct, but those few that are clear make it seem he's speaking with...the wind? The skies? Asking them for their aid, his eyes fixed on the swarms flying above them. It would seem that he's made them his next priority, as he awaits his fellow shamans' efforts.

Eirene's a seasoned veteran of some serious campaigns. This isn't the first time she's had to oversee the loading of a siege weapon. So she knows her way around the cranks and levers. She swings the bearings around to aim at the monstrosity and then slams the lance in place, wheeling it back with a grunt at the tension. "Knock that fuckin' rider off," she shouts. She sheathes Dawnstrike and pulls back on the lever to let a bolt fly.

Cassimir continues to help load the ballistae for those who are adept at firing them.

With her eyes closed, Khanne continues to focus on calling to the dead, but the sound of... something in the air causes her to open them, perhaps redirecting her focus from what she was attempting to do, looking towards Volcica, covered in locusts. "Vola!" She starts trying to swat at the locusts and, well, she's not sure what happens, exactly, but the bastards seem to buzz off nonetheless, leaving Volcica still focused... bloody, but focused. Khanne bites her lip and murmurs something about there being a salve for that later. Normally so much more focused and steady, the shaman seems a bit more scattered tonight. Hearing Mirk's words, she looks up to him. "Yes!" She tries to find her center once more, to be of help to Volcica and Mirk.

Mirk checks mana and occult at daunting. Mirk fails.

Cassimir checks perception at hard. Cassimir is successful.

Romulius checks dexterity and huge wpn at hard. Romulius is successful.

Eirene checks dexterity and huge wpn at hard. Eirene fails.

Rosalind checks dexterity and brawl at easy. Rosalind is successful.

Jamie checks dexterity and huge wpn at hard. Jamie fails.

Ian checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Ian is successful.

Ian checks dexterity and dodge at daunting. Ian fails.

Aindre checks dexterity and huge wpn at hard. Aindre fails.

Rosalind checks dexterity and dodge at daunting. Rosalind marginally fails.

Volcica checks mana and occult at daunting. Volcica is successful.

Khanne checks mana and occult at daunting. Khanne is successful.

Rosalind's rage is a thing of wonder. It even sets the gargantuan that she is attacking off just a bit as it kicks and flails at her. The distraction that the berserking woman provides means that Ian can get a clear strike one more on its leg, drawing a healthy amount of blood from the creature. It cries out in pain and flails around a little. Rosalind is knocking off her feet in the clamor. Unfortunately, Ian is crushed under the foot of the gargantuan.

At the ballistae, Romulius, Eirene, Jamie, and Aindre all load and fire, but only Romulius's bolt manages to hit the gargantuan. Square in its massive chest. The creature wails out in pain and begins to rock from side to side, careening into buildings as it sprays blood over the docks and remaining building and rubble. Vines seem to sprout from the creatures shoulder and whoever had been perched up there uses them to move safely for the ground and the creature drops.

Ian checks 'permanent wound save' at hard. Ian marginally fails.

Ian checks 'unconsciousness save' at daunting. Ian fails.

Ian is incapacitated and falls unconscious.

From the direction of the docks, thunderous sounds of destruction are heard again along with roars of what sounds very much like pain, loud enough to shake the remaining buildings of the city.

Ian executes another two-handed slash, going for tendons behind the knee this time; it's pretty clear that he's willing to sacrifice everything, now, if it means making himself into enough of a threat to force the gargantuan's attention away from the ballistae as they start to fire. Including, as it turns out, himself. This time, the power of his cut doesn't put him in a position to get out of the way in time, and he pays the price for that. The sound that his body makes when crushed is, thankfully, probably drowned out by everything else. But dead or passed out, he's not moving.

Ian checks 'unconsciousness save' at daunting. Ian is successful.

Ian wakes up.

The isle that Blackshore has called home since *before* the Reckoning has long pitted themselves against the worst horrors of the fathoms. While control of the barony might have been lost, once, but its scions have kept up the tradition of felling creatures too large to comprehend since the black blood of the Great Beast first spilled upon their shores. Fitting, then, that their Sword carries on the legacy even after departing the family to join the royal house of Thrax, and Romulius regards his mark with the sort of focus that can only be found in predators. The Sword of Stormward might fall, but New Hope's is single-minded in purpose - fell this monstrosity.

Rosalind is defintely going to feel bad about Ian when this all said and down. When she settles. If she settles. She's too hyper focused right now though, and she's all arms, legs, and teeth. Whatever she needs to fight, she's using it. When it stumbles, it simply forces her to go harder. "Just.Die!"she calls out viciously! When something else knocks it over and it's all dying. Rosa continues to kick and berate the damn thing..

Cassimir shouts so that everyone within earshot can hear his perceptions of the individual who had been perched upon the gargantuan's shoulder. "That...person...it's a woman with bright red hair. Can't discern much else from here!" After sharing, he continues to load up the ballistae for yet another round. When Ian is crushed under the foot of the reeling, bleeding giant, Cassimir pauses to cast his eyes toward the scene. He waits, and waits, and after several beats, it becomes clear that Ian is down for the count - though temporarily or permanently, it is hard to discern.

Eirene isn't the strongest of women, nor has she ever really been part of a firing crew. Directed them? Yes. Launched a ballista? No. So her shot goes careening wide into the damaged rubble of the city. She watches the shot of Romulius' strike true and she lets out a whoop, but then notices what happened to the Kennex. "FUCKING ABYSS, IAN! You better fucking hope your THICK AS ALARICITE SKULL full of stupid hasn't been crushed becaues I will crack it in half myself if you're dead!" She shouts at the others, "Cover me, I'm going after Ian," before she starts to bolt towards him and Rosa. "It's the same person as from the attack on the Whispers," she says to Cassimir. "Someone get her!"

Jamie pulls the lever to fire the ballistae hard, but watches his bolt sail clear as the creature writhes and shakes, the first bolt lodging deep in its chest. He looks up just in time to see Ian get felled by the thing... and whatever was on its shoulder, wreathed in vines that he remembered so well from the Whisper House in Arx, and heads down the nearest staircase for it, pulling his bastard sword from his back. "Something dropped off its shoulder - looked like it might be a mage. I saw something like that at the Whisper House." He takes off towards it as quickly as he can.

Cassimir understands the moment Eirene declares the woman's identity, drops everything, and obeys. He takes off after her, along with Ian.

Aindre can't help but look a little like the ballista he's working with the help of Jaime is a bit unwieldy, because ballistae are definitely unwieldy to begin with. He pushes through the awkward size of the weapon and adjusts it as best he can and slams the release to let fly the heavy lance that's been loaded into it, watching as it soars high and misses entirely and having his attention in that direction gives him the best view of Ian and how he's crushed beneath the foot of the gargantuan. Unbidden he screams out, "No!", and tenses up entirely like he's prepared to bolt away from his post and go in to drag the wounded or dying man away from the danger. He's no physician, however. "Eirene!", he shouts, but of course she's on it. People are already moving to intercept whatever it is that's dropped from the shoulder of the monstrosity, so Aindre lobs another huge projectile at it where it's down and bleeding just to make sure it isn't getting back up again.

While finding her balance once more, and trying to refocus back on the matter at hand, Khanne tries to see the world through different eyes, instead of closing them. She begins to reach out to the dead, but then, she feels the terror in the air. Fear. Fear is everywhere, causing her to wrap her arms about herself. Mirk stumbles, seeming to falter in his attempts, and it is to him she goes. "It's okay," she says, resting a hand on her cousin's shoulder, though she is looking to the sky, the air around them. "It's okay..." She nods, breathes deep, and says, "you do not have to come." She seems to be comforting both Mirk and something else, but she sounds almost sympathetic.

Ian is unconscious, and that's probably for the better, because in the fine tradition of Harald before him, he has broken his everything trying to keep something way more powerful than him from attacking his friends. But either way, he's not doing anything this round except maybe bleeding.

Mirk continues whispering to the wind, hopeful, a smile beginning to touch his face before it all slips out of his hands. It's replaced with pain, his expression tight with grief, his shoulders slumped. He sways on his feet and nearly drops, before Khanne steadies him with a hand on his shoulder. He draws a deep breath and lets it out slowly, closing his eyes, and then straightens to his full height once more. There's a gaze towards where the figure was on the gargantuan's shoulder, torn for a moment, before he turns towards those gathered closer to him. He raises a hand and shouts, "Now," to the civilians, lowering his hand to point in the direction of the harbor. A signal that it's safe for them to run for the harbor. "Evacuate now."

Quieter, to his fellow shamans, "If only I was in a position to go after that mage..." He shakes his head slowly. "But I'm not sure I have the strength, after that. Right now, we have a duty to these people."

Volcica's hands are busy, carving names and symbols into little pieces of bone she has. Tokens, charms-- but then Eirene is screaming about the woman, and the gargantuan is almost dead. Volcica drops her work, rises, and throws her spear at the Su'Tavi. She's not the best fighter, but.. "Thank you for your strength. You will be honoured, laid to rest." She channels everything she has into that one throw. Praying to strike true.

Aindre checks dexterity and huge wpn at hard. Aindre is successful.

Aindre loads up another bolt and manages to sink another into the gargantuan, finishing the beast off while it was still in its death throes. The figure that had dropped from its shoulder screams out shrilly into the night, "NOOO! MY BABY!" She rises into the air, her hood falling back to reveal blood red hair and glowing green runes carved into her delicate, elven features. Red vines sprout from her hands, snapping out and winding around those that try to approach her as she screams again, "You will pay for this! You will ALL pay for this!" She throws those that she has captured away from her and then, disappears. The vines turn into centipedes in her wake.

From the harbor, a shrill, piercing, unearthly scream is heard, "NOOO! MY BABY!"

Howls go up again from the west, but they're moving away quickly now. The screaming from that direction is...much diminished, but still so very, very present.

With the gargantuan felled definitively, Romulius is free to continue his route towards his former patron in Ian Kennex. Suffice it to say that whatever illusions of invincibility he might have held for the Sword of Stormward have shattered, alaricite greatsword in hand even if the threat seems to be handled with the gargantuan's death knell. He is not a medic, or anything approaching one, but he intends to find *some* way to be of use.

"No!" Jamie screams out as the mage disappears, trying to dodge the red vines, and maybe he does duck one or two, but the magic catches up to him in a moment and the big Greenmarcher's advance towards the mage is stopped in an instant, and then he's thrown back towards the rest of the group, landing with a thud. In an instant he's rolling to his feet and slashing out at any of the centipedes that are transforming from the red vines, putting himself between them and Ian.

Seeing as how Cassimir was one of the few individuals who ran after the red-headed elf, he's put himself in immediate danger, though he does not necessarily know precisely who she is or why he's hunting her. Her vine whips manage to wrap many times around his torso, lift him, and toss him away in no specific direction. It's a good thing he's wearing armor, as the crash back to solid ground hurts /now/...can't imagine what it would be completely unprotected.

Mirk studies the woman until she disappears, drawing his bow and nocking an arrow. He doesn't have a chance to fire, but he'll remember her face if he ever sees her again. He whispers to Khanne, "She killed Cirroch." Then he shouts out, "We can't cut a swarm. Evacuate. Get the wounded and reach the harbor." He gets moving, himself, beckoning for Volcica and Khanne to follow. At the very least to close the distance to the others.

Eirene would be cheering at Aindre's shot or chasing down the redheaded elf but she's too busy trying to make sure her friend isn't dead. She jumps over a pile of rubble and dodges around a fallen beam in her haste to get to Ian. She kneels beside him and leans over close to hear if there's the sound of breath coming from him - labored or simply breathing at all. The bleeding, that she can try to stop but there has to be some breath still in order for her to be able to do anything at all.

Still not focused on anything, Rosalind KNOWS the gargantuan is dead. Really. Maybe. What IS certain is she'll be attacking anything that stands in her way.

Aindre manages to look relieved for a heartbeat as the ten-pound lance sinks home into the bleeding gargantuan and finishes it off but he can't stop to soak in it for more than a heartbeat with all the chaos still going on around the city and the crises happening with Ian. He abandons the ballista he'd been working to crunch across the swarms of centipedes in a bid to make for Eirene and Ian both. "Can he be moved?", he asks of the physician, "If we can get him onto a ship it might be the safer bet." He stops and looks up at the rest of Bastion, at the city of his birth crumbling and wrought with destruction, "..I don't think we'll be using the facilities here and if they even stand at all they'll be flooded with the wounded." Another heartbeat later and, "We need to get as many people as we can on the fleet we brought up. We need to get them out of here."

Rosalind checks willpower at daunting. Rosalind fails.

Turning, her eyes frenzied, Rosalind starts slowly inching toward those that are closest to her. Like a predator and it's pray. Who she finds? Poor Eirene and Romulius, though chances are--she doesn't even realize. And off she goes with a low growl coming deep from her throat. Rosa is off to attack, that tunnel vision back and focused on her next--victim?

Aindre checks dexterity and brawl at hard. Critical Success! Aindre is spectacularly successful.

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

Jamie checks command and leadership at hard. Jamie fails.

Cassimir checks command and leadership at hard. Cassimir fails.

Volcica follows along with Mirk, distracted by whatever she's hearing. Names, names, names. She does dip to retrieve her spear, before falling back in with the halfshavs.

"Who is she?" Khanne asks to Mirk before she starts helping direct people as she herself goes with Mirk and Volcica that way as well. Should any centipedes come her way, she will do her best to stomp on them mightily and continue on.

Aindre looks up from his concerned hovering over Ian and Eirene both just in time to see a raging Redrain with death in her eyes coming for.. well, someone. Someone here is in danger! Just in case it's someone he likes and not some sort of enemy hiding behind them all, the Grayson prince drops lower and brings his center of gravity into her, grabbing her around the waist and dragging her away from the wounded and the people tending to the wounded, "Woah there, Lady Weohstan! The monsters are dead! They're dead!", he shouts at her, just dragging her backwards and in the direction of the river for a cool off if need be.

Ian is breathing, barely, but he is in bad shape. Many things broken and Eirene knows exactly what internal bleeding looks like. There is not much she can do here, but she does know how to move him to try not to make things much worse at least. As Rosalind turns her rage to her allies, Aindre manages to effectively stop her and drag her off, holding her tight enough to both prevent escape and prevent getting his face clawed off. Almost as if he knows a thing or two about how to handle angry people a little too drunk on rage. With the gargantuan dead, there is now a safe-sih path to the boats. Many are too terrified to listen, but Mirk manages to calm the survivors enough that they start to carefully make their way over the rubble of the docks to the boats.

Amid the chaos, as Rosalind turns towards Eirene and Romulius and Aindre tackles her wholesale, Jamie is trying to gather some survivors into a small group - but their shellshocked faces just stare at the big man, slack-jawed and unmoved, as they stare at the devastation wrought on the city of Bastion. Those who can't, or won't, listen, Jamie tries to direct more forcibly, taking a couple by the hand and starting to push them gently in the direction of the docks. "If you're able to walk, gather those who can't and start moving towards the ships!" He bends down and picks up an older man, sheathing his sword as he does so, and tries to lead his family towards safety... and they don't budge until they hear Mirk's voice over the din of flames and crumbling masonry. Jamie does his best to pick up those who are too wounded, and lead them towards the survivors that Mirk is gathering.

Abruptly, all the locusts have flown off, most buzzing off into the sky. Just as sudden as their arrival, they are gone, save for entirely too many bug corpses from swatted bugs lingering anywhere and everywhere.

"He's alive," Eirene shouts out to the others, a note of relief in her tone. It's quickly replaced by anger as she adds, "The dumb fucker's got internal bleeding listening to the sound of it, but I don't think he's punctured a lung 'cause he's not coughing a ton of red shut up. We need a stretcher or something, ain't safe to move him much." She looks up just as Aindre tackle-grabs Rosa and hauls her away. "What the -everliving- fuck is her deal," she asks, narrowing her eyes a little. But it's brief because her patient has her full attention once more. "If we can't get a stretcher we can just pick up him up by the coat and carrying him carefully to the ships." Her eyes drift upward as she no longer has to swat the bugs away from the patient. "That's... good?" She doesn't sound hopeful.

Rosalind is just about ready to attack, legs bent when she's---"Lemme go!"she shrieks. She's grabbed from Aindre, who is holding her pretty tightly. Rosa twists and turns, kicks and flails, but the man isn't releasing her. She's completely stuck.

Mirk continues shouting orders to the survivors, ushering people towards the ships, except for one moment where he stops to stare at the sky with a frown. He shakes his head, before saying to the others, "We should be on those ships, too. We cleared a path, and we can always return to assess the harms done here in Bastion. We have wounded, after all." He looks to Rosalind and Ian significantly. "How bad was it?"

Cassimir slowly scrambles to his feet and attempts to take stock of Ian's condition. Obviously, he's being tended to by people who got there first, but if he can try to secure a safe evacuation route, he'll do that.

"Where's her rage release lever??" Prince Aindre calls out, holding onto Rosalind as best as he can - which truth be told seems to be pretty good - and as he's trying not to take an elbow or a reverse headbutt he pulls a face of gross realization and says mostly to himself, "Gods, she's probably got gargantuan in her mouth..". For the most part he seems to have it under control, though he can't help but take some time to look over at Bastion again and the destruction that's there with some sadness in his eyes, allowing the smallest moment for himself and his grief while it seems as if people have things almost under control here.

Rosalind will be held until she calms herself down or knocked out. The corpse of the gargantuan briefly hisses and then, suddenly, turns into a mountain of dead bugs. More survivors start to drag themselves out of the city and toward the boats.

Eirene murmurs, "I'm sorry Aindre." She looks up from Ian at the prince and seems wounded emotionally for a change. "I... wish we could have done some good. Fuck," she says, sounding deflated. "I thought we could have made a difference." Her eyes close and she collects herself a moment. "Let's get him to a ship, then I can see about setting up triage for the wounded and getting as many civvies to evac as possible."

After seeing a few people to relative safety, Khanne finally notices that Aindre has secured Rosalind and seems to be hauling her away. Khanne winces a bit as she sees the woman kicking poor Aindre. She seems to overhear Eirene and gives a serious nod, but adds, "but we did. We helped these people."