Opening Shots

The City Gates

It's night time, and things are settling for the night except for the crowds who frequent the taverns. There's a distant rumbling, akin to thunder.

By now, Alba and Talen have been making relatively frequent forays into the plains; minor hunting expeditions, sometimes overnight, sometimes not. At the moment, the masked woman carries a brace of rabite slung over one shoulder, gutted and skinned and tucked into a bag of netting. The hides, already treated, left to the male to carry, that he get first pick of the ones he likes best before the rest go to market. As the rumbling picks up, her ears swivel toward the horizon, eyes narrowing behind the mask. "...It does not smell like rain," she mutters, already somewhat wary from this simple hint of strangeness.

Talen follows along only a step behind Alba, carying the hides neatly bundled together. His own ears are angled roughly in the same direction, with occasional twists to different sound sources. "No, it does not." He scents the breeze, searching. "Unless it is magic, or something large hitting the earth, there is only one thing I know of that makes that sort of rumble. Cannon. I hope to be mistaken." Indeed, it doesn't smell like rain at all. There's still the rumbling on the horizon, accompanied by a high-pitched shriek on the still wind that sensitive ears can hear. The faint scent of hot metal wafts along the air, along with the unmistakeable scent of gunpowder and oil.

It's the shriek, that galvanizes Alba into motion. Having served many and many a year upon the crew of a sky-pirate ship, the masked Viera knows well the sort of thing that could make that sound. Her cloak flares, her free arm looping out to push Talen along the road, spurring him to match her pace as she pelts toward the city. "WAR COMES, SHAMAN! HURRY!"

Talen's ears go completely flat against his head at the coming noises, and does not need much encouragement to run. The male, for once, easily keeps pace with the female. "So soon? So quickly. How we have squandered our time!"

The shriek comes closer, the sound of an attack-class airship. The ugly frame blots out the stars overhead as it soars in, the scent of hot metal, gunpowder, and oil stronger as it begins to slow, cargo doors opening.

Few sapient creatures, faster than a Viera down the road, doubly so when spurred by fear. The initial shove, it seems, is all Alba needs trusting in the male's legs to carry him the rest of the way. Directly down the road to the main gates they pelt, and once in sight of the guards Alba pushes her mask up, eyes rimmed in white. "WAR COMES FROM THE SKIES! CLOSE THE GATES, WAR COMES!!"

Talen pelts along with Alba, the summoner quiet while she yells the alarm. "Air-ship just down the road, opening cargo doors... it's an attack-class airship.", he says quietly in contrast to the female.

There's a pair of them on second glance, the first one opening its cargo doors while the second one races ahead to its secondary target. Out the cargo doors comes what look to be large barrels, fuses lit. Except the barrels are not wood, but of metal. They collide with the ground, shattering the peace of the night, sending plumes of smoke upwards, destroying farmland while shrapnel flies fast and furious from the impact craters.

[RP] Staffer Rebecca says, "A rumbling is felt throughout Emberstrand at the outer edges and pushes inward, shaking homes and buildings. An alarm is raised from the watch towers of the city, the cries of alarm turn to panic as word reaches the inner city. An airship has arrived, dropping exploding metal barrels from their cargo decks while a second one races forward, heading for the central part of the city, near the promenade."

Meanwhile, at the Wildfire Inn:

Marduke hears the alarm going off, and is dropping his tea to the table where it spills. Glances to the othrs, "Goata go!" Grabbing his staff he is out the door in a instant.

Groat ohs and nods to Celeste, "Sorry, my name is Groat, I am a priest of Bahamut, over at Bahamut's Temple. A pleasure to have met you." His ears perk up as Penny explains her schedule. "After sunset. May I have your permission to visit then..." His ears SHOOT straight up at the sudden THUMPS and explosions near by. "Hnnng... so many bangs... so painful. Are we under attack?"

Alistair lightly grins at both Marduke and Groat, waggling his fingers a moment at the latter before he answers, "Oh, the Summoner is quite right. Simply a matter of nimble fingers, some subterfuge. This city has Magicians, I take it? The rabbit from a hat sort, I mean." Though before they can answer, he adresses Penny next, watching her scan the card and responding to her as well, "Ah, as the name implies, I detect. I solve mysteries, crimes, situations of that ilk. Then I consult my clients or the local lawbringers of the situation." The man shrugging then... Before his brow goes up at that sudden rumble, his gaze instantly slipping towards the bazaar, visible from below the inn's awning as it is, "... It seems, dear Emberstrandians, the game is afoot." And with that, he quickly pushes himself up, and walks out from under the awning to look up at the sky itself.

The mouse warrior is just in the process of taking another swig from her rum, when abruptly there are explosions going off, and the ground shaking, and all manner of hell breaking loose. She pauses for a moment, before cursing loudly, "Ifrit's flamin' balls, they's here!" She rockets out of her chair, knocking it over behind her, and slamming the rum down so hard the bottle cracks across the bottom. She takes up her shield, strapping it to her arm, and then her spear as well; she fairly turns to run for the door. "Come on!" she shouts, "We's all needed!"

Penny blushes slightly at Groat's blatant flattery, clearing her throat and taking a sip of her cider before nodding, "Of course, you're more than welcome to visit the Cathedral any time; it's open to visitors even in the dark of night." The sound of distant explosions causes her ears to perk, followed by the sounding alarm, the mouse frowning and looking after Alistair as the detective steps out to the street to look to the sky, "Dunno about games, but *something* is surely going on... I should probably get back to the Cathedral; they tell us to return immediately in emergencies. And if this really *is* the first steps of invasion, then there's going to be refugees that need defending."

Back at the City Walls:

[RP] Staffer Rebecca says, "A rumbling is felt throughout Emberstrand at the outer edges and pushes inward, shaking homes and buildings. An alarm is raised from the watch towers of the city, the cries of alarm turn to panic as word reaches the inner city. An airship has arrived, dropping exploding metal barrels from their cargo decks while a second one races forward, heading for the central part of the city, near the promenade."

Pushing Talen ahead of her as Alba pours on more speed, the Viera scrape through the city gates, just in time for them to close behind the pair. Without pause to thank the guards for allowing them through, Alba sprints onward toward the High Road, the rooftop dash beloved of thieves and messengers alike. "Talen, where may we go that we may be assured the bombs will not destroy us?"

Talen blinks and finds the nearest corner, where he begins to climb. "I know not, Alba, it depends on how powerful the bombs are. But the fastest way, in a few moments, will be the rooftops. The streets are going to be clogged. If you want my best guess... we need to get to the temples, and now."

The airship continues, the shrapnel peppering the outside walls. One manages to find itself close, the explosion billowing upwards, sending shrapnel skyward and into some of the town's guard. A fine red mist splatters the wall behind them as they tumble backward, falling still.

"Then to the Temple we go," Alba says with no small amount of resignation, spurring the male to run the roofs as fast as he can.

Talen actually wimpers as he's spurred along, instinct guiding his movement as much as his thinking brain. "What of your ship? Your captain? Will they be alright?" He runs along towards the Temple district.

Guards run to the gates, hoping to reinforce while others race up the stairs to the cannons and ballista. Archers and gunners move to their platforms, shuffled from their slumbers and meals, some half dressed, and begin firing at will. They are met with in turn with fire, lightning, and ice shots raining down at an unusually fast pace.

The Wildfire Inn:

[RP] Staffer Rebecca says, "The bombing run of the first ship continues, the second ship somewhat out of sight for the moment. Guards mount the walls in the city's defense, returning fire with cannons and ballista. They are met in turn with rapidly fired shots enchanted with fire, ice, and lightning, cutting through an otherwise unprepared defense."

Penny nods, getting up from her stool as well. Or, rather, slipping off of it. She looks up at Groat, expression serious, her soldier's training showing, "I can give you armed escort to the Temple district, if you like. We're both headed that way anyway."

Groat's fear is very much plain to see upon his face and he nods slowly, moving to stand at your side. "Y.. yes please." The Mithra reaches out to gently grasp your hand.

Penny smiles, "Don't worry, Groat, protecting people is what I'm trained for." She leads the way outside, adding, "Though, it's times like this I wish my armor was comfortable enough for casual wear. It looks good, really, but it's not made for relaxing in, you know?"

Groat laughs nervously and nods, "I can understand. Metal armor is heavy."

The Promenade

In the countryside, bombs hammer the farmland, the gates raked with gunfire and magic, as the rolling wave of battle that had threatened for months upon months, finally breaks. The Promenade, largely built only with housing along one side, and little in the way of shops to speak of, is only slightly cluttered; families preferring to dive into their homes, the occasional Guardsman or adventurer hurrying toward the Gates, and a few overeager children yet to be collected crowding the river-side rails, to get a look at the airships on the attack. War has come to Emberstrand, and only for a very few is it anything but a serious concern.

Alarm Claxtons sound as the Dauntless sheds it's mooring lines and casts off it's boarding ramp. The engines of the large airship thrum to life as Nitro shouts into the intercom on the bridge "Alright you Deck-apes! Whatever that ship is up to it stops now! Hoist the colors and Battle Stations!" Men and women rush over the decks as the gunports along the sides open and canon barrels begin to emerge. The red and black flag of the Incursio Usra Machina rising along poles on either side of the ship and atop the bridge tower as the ship begins to lift off.

At the sound of the alarms throughout the city, the Liberalis Estate guards are on alert as well. Their Lord and Master limps out, cane in hand as he looks to the skies along with them. "Sounds like a night raid," he responds calmly. He's calculating what's happening, the strategist's mind whirring into motion. "Half of you, go assist at the wall. If they're Archadian, the city has possibly lost several dozen already," Agrin orders.

Alistair having been at the inn, meeting new people, introducing himself, was quick to react to the sound of war... The man forced to make a quick decision as the sound of battle rages at the main gate, yet the perhaps even more ominous noice of war ships heading for a deeper part of the city catches his attention as well... And he eventually decides to pursue the latter, swiftly making his way through the bazaar, its surrounding streets, and heading for the city's promenade... Finally coming to a halt, slightly out of breath, next to some of those children at the railing, his gaze cast up at the sky, searching.

From the Bazaar, a mouse warrior charges up the street, shield and spear in hand and flaboyant naval jacket flying behind her as she runs. Steel arms and breastplate gleam, as does the look in her eye. "ARMS!" Celeste shouts, "TO ARMS!" She dashes along the streets, racing to catch up to where the attacking airship is doing its damage. "FOLLOW ME!" Will anyone follow? She doesn't appear to be looking behind her to check. She gazes up in between making sure she isn't right about to plough into anything; the lion emblem on her shield flashes, reflecting the light of explosions in the distance. Nitro's airship is noted, and she starts heading that way; if the Archadians aren't coming down, well, may as well go up.

Archimedes is not the first to arrive on the scene, nor the last. Each incident has seen him a little more prepared for spontaneous violence. He's not a soldier, but he's quick to usher civilians into shelter--not a medic, but he can do some quick patchwork. He continues such a fashion until Celeste passes by, raising the call. It's a no brainer. He takes stock of his rifle and dashes after the warrior mouse.

The City Gates:

Marduke arrives from the city's Main Gates to the west. Marduke has arrived. Mordecai arrives from the city's Main Gates to the west. Mordecai has arrived. Jenna arrives from the city's Main Gates to the west. Jenna has arrived.

The airship that's bombarding the farmland outside the city walls has withdrawn briefly, only to rush forward, allowing parabolic arc to take the exploding barrels closer to the city walls. One collides with the wall, sending a shower of dark red debris upwards, sharp rock fragments and shrapnel pulverizing the archers and gunners atop that section of the wall. The stench of war is upon the field, gunpowder, hot metal, oil, and now blood and ichor join the motley mix.

Alba, unlike most who'd be found near the City walls, is not in fact looking for a piece of the action; indeed, with mask pushed up and shaggy fur cloak flaring to either side of her, she seems to have no difficulty whatsoever in fleeing deeper into Emberstrand, taking the Highroad across the rooftops of the SLums, keeping pace with Talen as well as she possibly can.

Being alternately pushed and cajoled by the female Viera, Talen leads the way to the Temple district, running across the rooftops of the city, CRINGING at each distant or nearby explosion.

Deep in the slums, one woman is emerging from what may or may not be her home, but at least is a tall building crowded in amongst many others of its like; Jenna Blackthorne, former Forsaken, emerges onto the rooftop at the sound of the bombardments. She gazes up, watching explosions go off and lightning and fire flashing about. She gazes at the scene for a long moment, and slowly shakes her head. "...Bugger," she curses.

Marduke is walking up the steps to the top of the wall. His voice is a low chanting tone that matches the rhythm of his steps. "Blood has been spilled, innocent and guilty alike. Wanton destruction painful and pointless." Marduke's eyes scanning the new battlefield as he reaches the top and sighs. "So be it. I call forth the favor of the Mist." He plants his staff down into the stones and the single ring of bells chiming. "For that which is missing, but never lost." He claps his hands together as he starts to gather energy. Four orbs form around him and starting to circle, each one containing a hazy mist in the center. "Always found, come forth Dragon of the Mist." Holding out a hand as a trail of mist follows after it, and flows down his arm circles around his from. Once it reaches his feet it circles around the ground picking up speed and suddenly taking the form of the Mist Dragon wrapped around the summoner. She looks towards the attacking ship and lets out a roar. "So she can carry one, maybe two. Who wants a lift?"

Mordecai often enjoys going out into the wilderness surrounding the city... Taking one of his long distance rifles for some private target shooting, a batch of his handloaded ammunition at hand to test different bullet weights, powder charges, etc... But sadly, that time of what he considers leisurely activity comes to quite a sudden end, as he's forced to tear his eye from the scope he was peering through, and look in the direction of battle... A grim expressing besetting him right after as he notes the flashes and rumbles in the distance- right where Emberstrand would be, and the experienced former Archadian mercenary, who easily recognizes the sound of his nation's weaponry, instantly packing up that rifle then... Slinging it across his back and snatching up his pack as he starts to eat ground, breaking into a run towards the drama in progress.

The arrival of the Mist Dragon doesn't seem to give pause to the airship continuing its repeated bombing run. It appears the last of the barrels are dropped from the belly of the airship before the rapid fire desk cannons return to attack, firing at the walls. The wood and iron of the gates to the city splinters, smoke rising from the impacts as more cannons light up, enchanted with the elements.

Only once, does Alba look back at the gates, but no more; the moment the Mist Dragon makes an appearance, she's putting on just that extra bit of speed, leaping from rooftop to rooftop as she and Talen pelt toward the Temple DIstrict, and hopefully shelter.

Talen never looks back, every time he even thinks to do so, another explosion, or the crackle of lightning spurs him on to faster speeds.

The Temple District:

With the attack going on, the Cathedral is in Defense Mode, with the Cathedral Guard on full alert. And that includes Penny, who is now in her armor. The massive main doors are tightly closed and barred, but a man-door is still open, and refugees aplenty are filing in to take refuge from the fighting a few blocks away, though, thankfully, no injured yet. Priests and healers from not just the Cathedral, but other smaller nearby temples as well, are present, as well as clergy from larger temples who weren't near their own houses of worship, including the wayward lay-priest of Bahamut, Groat.

Groat sits down inside the Cathedral of Alexander, too scared now to leave any time soon. He pulls his knees up under his robes, and leans his chin upon them, purring loudly to himself.

Another who filters in is Lily, who has, somehow, acquired a sword between wherever she got distracted to and here. She immediately steps over to Groat, seeing him seated down there, and crouches there to hug him with her free arm, holding the sword in one hand and defensively rumbling. Like, say, a mithra guarding what belongs to her. In the cathedral, she keeps her hood and mask down, so her pale white features are immediately visible.

Penny moves from near the inside of the man-door, where she's been giving some lower-ranked Cathedral guards instructions (not that she's that high-ranked herself), and joins the two Mithra, having seen Lily filter in. Nodding to Lily, she smiles, "Glad you made it to Sanctuary. We didn't get introduced at the tavern; I'm Penny." Then, to Groat, "You holdin' up? I can have someone bring you a drink, maybe a little to eat, if you like."

Groat is happy to be comforted, first by Lily and her rumble, and then the offer of food and drink. He takes a deep breath and shakes his head, "No, I shouldn't take food, you will need to feed so many people after this. Water I will take, though, please. Just.. show me where and I'll fetch it myself." He looks to Lily, and smiles. "Thank you. I feel better in your presence. I did not ask before, do you have family in the city? You should go if you can, to them."

The woman is startled by the question about her family. She had been single-mindedly holding Groat until that. Lily shakes her head, her ears drooping. "No, no family," she tells the other mithra. And then she squeezes him closer, resting a cheek on his shoulder. She seems just as tense and afraid as Groat is, actually, she just has a sharp object with her, too. She smiles over at Penny. "Lily," she introduces herself.

Penny nods, "A pleasure, Lily, though the circumstances are harsh. Time will tell how much is needed to aid the affected after the fight is settled. Water, though..." She points off to where water is being provided, off to one side of the Cathedral's great hall, "It's over there."

Groat turns and gives Lily a hug, squeezing gently. "Thank you, for coming and for protecting me. I'll go get some water, and see if there is help needed inside. You should stay here, you are armed and bad people may try to get inside."

The female mithra nods dumbly, and stands up, tail lashing, eyes fixated on the main doorway. Her weapon is kept firmly gripped in one hand, the metal held in a way that suggests it's very lightweight. She glances aside at Penny... "He still owes me a week," she tells Penny, to explain her behavior... which is very typical of a female mithra, honestly, so she's just making an excuse.

Penny watches Groat head off to get himself some water, leaning a little on her poleaxe, when Lily's unexpected explanation makes the mouse double-take slightly, not understanding the pale mithra's statement at first, "Wha? A week of what?"

The doors all but burst open, as a pair of Viera pelt inside to escape the now-distant sounds of explosions and mayhem raking the outer walls. Dragging the male into the largest open space she can find, the female, mask pushed up and body draped in a shaggy fur cloak, finally collapses, only then releasing hold of the male's hand.

"He has to help me, with whatever I ask," Lily explains, shrugging at Penny, "It's not important right now," she bites out, frustrated at the line of questioning. She doesn't seem like a terribly patient sort. And then the two viera arrive, and Lily looks at them in complete befuddlement. The familiarity of the scenario jars her. She steps over to check on them, especially the female viera, intensely worried about these two. Viera mirror Mithra in a lot of ways, and Lily hasn't missed that.

Talen blinks and peers, looking around the somewhat familiar space of the main room in the Cathedral of Alexander. His eyes wide with the recent superhuman effort of simply running for one's life, his breathing harsh and ragged. Concern crosses his face as the female slips to the ground, the male barely able to keep her from thumping her head. "W... water." he croaks. "And a healer please... I don't know if she is wounded or ... *hack*... or not." Exhaustion soon claims him also, as he slowly sinks to the ground, taking a defensive posture over Alba.

Penny ahs at the clarification, then blinks as Lily concludes with the frustrated tone, shrugging and nodding, "Um... Ok, probably so. An-" she's cut off as two viera burst through the man-door, a few other refugees scattering, and the abrupt arrival startling a couple other guards closer to the entrance. She follows Lily to the viera, while the call for water is answered by a couple acolytes who bring waterskins filled with cool, refreshing water from the Cathedral's deep-wells. Penny motions for more assistance to help the Viera further in, and out of the way of potential incoming foot-traffic, offering her own arm in the process to both viera for either to take, "Let's get you two somewhere more comfortable."

The Promenade:

What comes screaming out of the sky, even as fire and magic continue to batter the countryside, could first be mistaken for some great and terrible Fiend; firelight glinting off a metallic carapace, relatively dim fires blazing at its back, it takes a moment to pick out the details, but what turns out to be a small transport craft slews about, its belly barely clearing the top of the Promenade housing as its back hatch begins to open.

Nitro checks the instruments on the bridge panel as the engines finally get up to speed, he's been refitting the ship for weeks preparing for this and it's time to see if the work paid off. As the transport comes into view the Dauntless rises to meet it, turning and moving to pass along side. "All gunners, fire at will once we're in range! Riflemen to the main deck, target any exposed crew! Let's turn this thing into scrap! Ahahahahahahahaaaa!"

More of the guards from the Liberalis Estate go running for the gate at their master's bidding. Agrin watches as people come rushing toward the Promenade. "Take shelter!" he calls out to the people hanging out by the river rail. "Let them into the gates. We have to get them inside and under cover!" he shouts to his guards. The strategist's mind continues to whirr as the sound of the small craft flicks in and out of hearing, lost in the sounds of the bombardment outside the walls.

Alistair takes one look at the transport ship, and the charging Dauntless, before he turns towards the nearby children without hesitation... Remaining quite calm, somehow, as he starts urging them away from the railing, speaking gently, "Come along now, children, I'm afraid things are about to get a tad hairy..." And pointing them towards the nearby estate, with its master barking orders, even as he glances across his shoulder at the progress of that ship... And his hand starts slipping towards the ivory grip of his revolver.

Celeste keeps charging forwards at breakneck pace, heading for Nitro's airship... until the landing craft comes screaming into view. Oh yes; Celeste knows well enough what that's all about. The mouse changes course, gesturing for whoever's following her to do the same. One person so far? Well, that's good; two stalwart folk against a horde of Archadians should make for a good story, right? Either more will come or they won't; it doesn't change her course of action. She switches her grip on her double-bladed spear, lancing the weapon out in front of her and panting softly as she runs, heading straight for where the landing craft is coming down. "WE BREAK 'EM HERE!" she shouts. "FER EM'ERSTRAND!"

Oh, yes, this will end well. The Burmecian is, frankly, crap with a blade. Unless he's making them. Archimedes swings his rifle out to the ready, prepared to shoot over the heads of whoever come down first. Give them something to pause about, and cover his companion's charge. "For Emberstrand!" He echoes. "Give'm hell!"

Ainsley has arrived.

The City Gates:

Mordecai has remained fit for his age, and as such it doesn't take the salty old dog terribly long to reach a position where he can catch full sight of that attacking vessel... The man suddenly dropping right to his stomach, the ship in the air perhaps some hundreds of yards away, and starting to slither, lowcrawl then towards some of the hardy scrub growing on these plains... His rifle slipping from his back before he start to jam his body into the sparse cover the foliage provides- admittedly mostly intending it to be camouflage- and then bunkers down... That slender weapon's wooden stock jammed into his shoulder, the rest of it steadied on his elbows, finding his spotweld, pressing rifle directly on bone, and his eye slipping towards the scope... Making some quick mental calculations, compensating for upwards angle, the arc and drop the bullet will take, as he sweeps the rifle's recticle across the attacking ship, his breath low and steady as he ever so calmly searches for humanoid figures along the deck's railings...

Bugger. *Bugger*. And bugger again. The word, in all its glorious permutations and pronounciations, echos through Jenna's mind, occasionally escaping her lips as she starts running along the rooftops towards the walls. Certainly, this is not going to end well; but once a Forsaken, always a Forsaken, even if you somehow manage to desert, and Jenna doesn't appear to be one to shrink from this particular fight. "Bugger," she reiterates, as she transfers from rooftop, to the edge of the slums, climbing her way up to where the walls can be accessed; usually not a smart thing to attempt, but with the guard rather occupied, who's to notice? "Bugger," she spits once more, as she draws her pistol and picks a position reasonably out of the way, so she can be present once any close combat actually starts. "And bugger once more," she adds, for good measure.

The Promenade:

The transport swerves to one side as the Dauntless rises to battle, but too late to prevent the deploying of its cargo; half a dozen figures, each the size of a Galka, covered from head to foot in carapace-like metallic armor, its seams pulsing with a light similar to that seen in Mist engines, though the pulse is reminiscent of a heartbeat. Without ropes, they simply drop to earth in the middle of the street, hefting hammer and shield as they make for the Liberalis Estate. Up above, light turrets rake the Dauntless, the ship clearly not fited out for a sustained air-to-air engagement.

Nitro can't help but grin as the ship's plating rings with the sound of the transport's light guns. Those... things it dropped are a concern, but first things first. "All guns FIRE, Full Broadside!" The captain's demented cackle is drowned out by the sound of the warship's armaments as the shriek of Magitech guns are combined with the thundering of the black-powder canon as the Dauntless seeks to turn the archadian ship into a burning heap.

"Is he fucking crazy?" Agrin snarls uncharacteristically for him. The sight of the larger airship opening fire above the city. "Get them inside, now!" he orders his guards, hobbling out to help. "He should be out defending the wall," he mutters under his breath. He sees the coming figures, their metal carapaces outlined by the fires of the wall, and the Mist pulsing in time with heartbeats. A look of confusion comes to his face, completely unaware of what it could possibly be.

Alistair takes a good look at those armored figures, watching them emergy from that sinister looking vessel... And then he can't help but glance at his finely made, well balanced, but ultimately slightly impotent in this case, revolver as he holds it firmly in hand... And then he actually just shrugs, a flick of amusement crossing his pale features, before he starts moving sideways, towards Agrin and his estate, even as that Burmecian made sixgun comes up and he starts to place- what he hopes to be- well aimed shots...

Celeste skids to a halt, tufted tail going out for balance as the six figures slam into the ground, and begin their advance against the Liberalis Estate. Is the irony of the fact that she's about to defend Agrin's house, that being the same man she's verbally clashed with on more than one occasion, lost to Celeste? ...Yes, it would appear that it is, as she's paying no attention to that situation whatsoever. "War golems," she snarls, as she changes course, and moves as swiftly as she may to interpose herself between them and their target, or at least get there to slow them up. "Welcome ter Em'erstrand," she drawls as she gets close to them, hefting her shield and hunching forwards as she advances smartly against them. "A'ight, boys, le's dance. Who wants ter be first?" She spins her spear in her hands as she approaches, and emerges from behind her shield long enough to thrust forwards, lancing her weapon out and then up, aiming for the nearest construct's head, right under the chin.

"Seriously?" Archimedes gives pause when he sees the... well, what are presumed to be constructs drop down. "What a waste. This whole attack is such folly..." He grits his teeth and follows after Celeste. While she might take the more direct intercession, the Burmecian is more inclined to try to flank them. Not a vet, but he's got a steady gun-arm and starts sighting out what might be 'weak ponits'... joints, lines, and the like, and taking a shot whenever an opportunity is presented, each reported with a loud crack.

A scholar scrambles onto the scene of a great battle and gasps in surprise at what she sees... a crowd of golems dropping from the sky and marching upon one of the estates. She clicks her tongue, and takes note of Celeste and Archimedes, as well as faces she doesn't recognize... and is that the noble man...!? Ainsley immediately performs a [Scan] on the golems, to try and determine what their weaknesses may be, for whatever that is worth, but tries not to be in immediate line of sight while she does this. She doesn't want to draw the fight over to herself, since she's squishy and easily harmed.

The Temple District:

Alba shakes her head, slipping a foot out for balance, and slowly, shakily, climbing to her own feet. "It is well," she pants, lungs burning from the effort recently made, fingers digging into Talen's sleeve. "Water, only... and show us, where we may lie and recover."

Lily reaches out to touch at Alba's arm, but carefully, to make sure that she can stand. Bad reactions can come fast. She doesn't actually grab, just make sure she's fine. And then she sheathes her weapon, and scurries off to go get them both some water.

Talen stays kneeling upon the ground, providing a solid foundation for Alba to use to stand. He doesn't say anything more at this point, having taken on the thousand yard stare.

Penny nods to Alba, and as Lily dashes off, she doesn't have to go far, the acolytes with the waterskins meeting the mithra half-way, handing both containers to her. Penny, meanwhile, gestures for Alba and Talen to follow her, "This way, there are a couple unclaimed bedrolls just over here." She smiles a bit, adding to Talen, "Glad you didn't get caught up in matters outside; a completely different game, compared to chasing after some coins, eh?"

"It was a near thing," Alba says, hooking an arm around Talen's waist, to guide the dazed younger male toward the open bedrolls. "From the hunt, we come, and almost did not make the closing of the gates. We do not stop, until we come here."

Talen allows himself to be lifted and, though he walks with shakey legs, guided to the bedrolls. He even accepts the water, slurping noisily and greedily at it, without shame at all. "Hnn. We used the rooftops... people were just ... turning into paste and fine mist... steps behind us, around us... explosions."

Penny grimaces and clucks her tongue at Talen's description of what he saw, "The age-old tools of modern war... Bombs are nasty business. Indiscriminate. It's not proper warfare." She sighs and leans on her poleaxe, looking in the direction of the Cathedral's massive, sealed main doors, "There'll definitely be wounded, if they're using those in the city. Lots of people displaced, too. The Cathedral is safe, though. May look pretty, but it can weather a whole lot, and it'll take more than a few explosions to breach her." He turns back to the two viera, "You're safe here. Is there anything you need?"

"What my shaman may wish for," Alba says, lowering Talen upon the bedroll, curling up around his waist behind him... and only then does she take her waterskin with a nod of thanks, taking small, almost birdlike sips. "For myself, only that word is sent to the High Priestess, of the Mog; Her husband's mad Viera is here, and unharmed."

The City Gates:

Marduke grimaces at the attack. "Ruthless, by the spirits these people need to be stopped." Shaking his head, "Guards, do what you need to. Going to try to distract them." Glancing along the stone and smiling, "Oh I hope she doesn't kill me. Come Mist. Lets go." The dragon suddenly unwrapping from around Marduke, and then grabbing him with one claw to lift him up and flying over towards Jenna, "Hey Jenna, brace yourself, were visiting the ship, and the flight is going to be rough!" It is the only warning Jenna gets as the Dragon does a fly by and takes to the air towards the airship! Bee lining to keep from being a easy target, it is going to be a two person invasion! Marduke clearly hoping the guards will give some cover fire.

Raziel has arrived.

There's an officer at the rail of the airship, calling out orders to the deckhands as they continue to fire with cannons. The ship lurches as one of the city defender cannons finally wakes and makes connection with the side. The guards of the wall cheer as they begin to rally, ballista firing. The officer is pinned to the far bulkhead by the bolt, a bloody scream erupting from the deck. More rapid cannon fire returns.

"Bugg--AUGH!!" Jenna's cursing is cut off as, with only the sparest bit of warning, she's yanked straight off ehr feet and up into the air. Somehow she manages to keep hold of her revolver, while her other hand clutches at the dragon's talons. "Marduke!" she calls out after a moment spent screaming, "You're crazy!" She kicks her legs in the air, eyes gone wide as saucers; thankfully however, a ride courtesy of the mist dragon is not a first time experience. "...Hope yer got a plan for what to do after we get up on deck," she adds.

Marduke is not flying in style. Being held by the tight claws of a dragon dodging and trying not to get shot down is not in this summoner's book of bright ideas. He grimaces as a few come close to hitting, but the dragon is good at flying. When the ballista shoot hits the enemy ship and taking out the gunnery sergeant the Mist Dragon doesn't waste a moment of the opportunity. Breaking from the dodging and doing a drive the dragon picks up speed cutting a straight line. Breaking at the last moment to come up on the ship, and drop both its passengers onto the deck. Dropping in front of them it lets out a roar of challenge to any who might attack, and giving the two who were less then gracefully dropped regain their bearings. "Plan, keep em busy while the city defenses get worked up, then we bail. Attack anything that moves." Offering a grin over to Jenna.

That crosshair continues to sweep across the railing, calloused fingertip meanwhile curling to rest ever so gently against the feather light, competition grade trigger... And the man placing the recticle just above one of those distant humanoid figures then... Compensating for that bullet drop, and his aim shifting along with the ship's movements, before he lets out his breath ever so slowly... And lets his finger caress that trigger. The rifle bucking into his shoulder, the specially handloaded bullet making its way through the twenty five inch barrel... And spinning at nearly three thousand feet per second to hopefully hit his victim's center mass.

Once Raziel has his students safe deep within the mage guild the man has taken to the skies himself to join the fight. A quick overview of the city on a brief pass leads him towards the attack at the main entrance. While the city cannons begin to fire he soars overhead while his gold wings start to shine with fiery motes of energy which begin to run up his wings, to his shoulders and then back down his arms.. From the high flying position the aegyl begins to fall while his attention turns from the intricacies of flight to the more detailed nuances of spell casting. The spell launches though, a large ball of fire aimed towards the deck of the ship (Fira), on the opposite side from where Marduke and Jenna have just landed, and his wings snap back out again as he starts to fly upwards once more.

Indeed, hopefully they do have a plan. More figures come to the railing, personal arms brought to bear on top of firing the cannons. The bullet comes screaming in, missing the center mass as the ship lurches from another wall cannon hit. However, the bullet still finds a mark, hitting a gunner's mate in the temple. The contents of his brain pan shower his compatriots in crimson and gray, clinging to their Archadian military uniforms. There's a stutter in the cannons firing as another person moves to take his place. The ship starts to draw back as the helmsman turns the wheel hard to port to avoid the incoming Fira, but it hits, the hull starting to smolder and flame beneath.

Mordecai doesn't really take the time to see what or who he might have hit... He simply starts shooting. The man instantly throwing the bolt, locking another high-grain rifle bullet snugly into the chamber, and shifting that recticle to find another human-shaped target, and flicking his finger across that hair trigger... And starting to repeat this action, over and over, as long as the rifle's internal magazine lasts... And not stopping even as it runs out of his own handloaded shells- a thumb flick of a level on the side of the weapon switching it instantly to its inherent, mist-powered ammunition supply... His aim shifted again then to compensate for its changed ballistic properties.

Plan? Marduke has never beent he best at planning, and far worse in the heat of the moment. Yet something strikes him, "The Helm, we take out the helm." Getting to his feet and picking up his staff, words of power starting to chant again. The Mist Dragon gathering up its breath, and spewing out a freezing haze of air across the deck. Careful to avoid the section that is one fire, do not want to put it out accidently. "Lets move, I cannot keep her out much longer and need her to get us down." Turning to start towards the helm, his staff held defensivly to smack at anybody who might get in his way.

Jenna tucks in and lands in a crouch on the deck where she's deposited. She glances about, looking around past the dragon in front of her as she stands, drawing her sword with her free hand. "A'ight," she replies to Marduke, "To work then. Kill them all, let none walk from here alive." She flashes a bloodthirsty grin, as her Forsaken doctrine kicks in. She turns, and starts stepping around the mist dragon's side; her revoler is raised, and she sights down the barrel. A loud report announces her firing; and then again, and again, no matter what condition her targets might be in, be they fighting men or no, she fires, looking for headshots and heartshots, but taking whatever she can get.

Raziel's eyes flit quickly to the Mist Dragon and he watches as it begins to freeze parts of the deck.. Changing tactics he dives in lower and gets a little closer as he makes a spell along the lines of the cannons and he once again begins to cast, but this time rather than the more powerful spells he weakens one further, allowing it to spread out over a few of the cannons while water coalesces in the air and then shoots towards them, intent on ruining any gunpowder that he can reach (Spell Burst + Water).

The frozen breath of the dragon catches the crew off guard, causing the helmsman to throw the wheel again. The brevet-Captain orders the ship to withdraw, the helmsman reaching down to drop a lever, causing the ship to rise in the air. The cargo doors are cranked shut, the airship having spent its ammunition. At the rail, another pair fall from the far off bullets, one catching it in the shoulder, another through the heart. On the deck, one can hear the one who has been shot dead center, "Tell m' husband..." The female gunner's mate falls. Water falls upon the decks, catching into the gunpowder barrels. It appears they are being repelled.

Mordecai only stops his guerilla sniper fire once that ship starts rising... The angle eventually becoming too great for the man to lay down effective fire, and simply watching it go, noting it being attacked by some familiar looking figures... Keeping his position inside that shrub meanwhile, not about to give that vessel a target of opportunity.

Marduke follows after Jenna, "We need to cripple the ship somehow." Glancing up to see Raziel and offering a nod. He nearly falls over as the ship lurches upwards to starts its retreat. "Jenna time to bail." The summoners eyes glancing across the deck for anything, and nodding to himself. Moving over he climbs up onto the dragons back, this time he is going to be riding instead of being carried. The dragon will take off once Jenna is aboard. Rushing along the deck and offering another freezing breath into one of the engines attempting to harm the ship further. The dragon falling in the air at first from this attack, then spreading its wings to break itself and start gliding very close to the ground.

As the ship begins it's retreat the mage pulls back for a moment his wings start to glow with the impulse to cast yet another spell, but dim as he keeps his position and waits until they are well and truly retreating before he starts to fly down, intent upon joining the others who assisted in the repelling of the attacking ship. As he does a quick glance is shot to the gunners on the walls and a fist is raised in recognition of their assistance before Raziel lands and looks back over his shoulder to the ship once again.

Jenna isn't quite done yet. The Burmecian pulls back the hammer on her pistol, and puts a round into the female gunner's head for good measure, and then another is fired at a crewman still on his feet; as her gun goes empty, she advances smartly, flashing her sword in a wide arc aimed fro some poor fellow's neck. Regardless of the outcome, it does become apparent that enough is enough. "Right," she calls back, as she retreats once more to the mist dragon, holstering her pistol and clutching her sword between her teeth as she climbs up on the dragon's back along with Marduke, and she holds on, ready to go.

It's a bloody mess on the deck of the airship, but the damage below has been done. One airship has destroyed so much farmland and damaged the walls of Emberstrand. The helmsman continues to steer the ship back to the northeast, putting on speed as much as one engine can given the ice coating the second engine.

The Promenade:

Metal slivers belch from the side of the transport, the smaller airship slewing wildly up and to one side to escape the lethal fire erupting from the Dauntless. The ship claws for altitude, seeking to evade its attacker long enough to survive until it can reclaim its cargo.

On the ground, the armored figures react with very un-construct-like surprise, if only for a moment, at the sight of the lunatic with the spear interposing herself between them and the Estate. The surprise is short-lived, however, and a heavy black shield sweeps aside the spearpoint. As bullets *spang* off the squad's armor, the reaction is curious, if effective; the formation closes up, shields rising to form a phalanx in miniature. Whatever the squad is here for, it seems, it's not to wage war on the streets.

The Dauntless turns and climbs in response, 4 canon barrels protruding from the bow between the defensive shields since the ship can't maneuver for another broadside. The long-guns meant for long-range engagement but they work just as well at closer distances as they belch fire and smoke, Nitro pressing the attack and not wanting to give the transport enough time to recover.

It's time for Agrin to show what years of schooling have given him with all his knowledge. He's been too unpracticed all these years, but the motions and the words still ring true in his head. Time magic, runes underneath his expensive clothing light up, trailing around his arms, to his torso, and down his legs as he brings forth the will to Slow his attackers. Unbeknownst to him, a younger, blonder, female version of himself runs from the confines of the Estate behind him to help get the remaining bystanders within the confines of the walls. Agrin's attention is on the attackers, not his daughter, obviously. The magic rushes out to attack at the assault group.

Alistair continues shooting at that phalanx, despite its obvious ineffectiveness... His path meanwhile bringing up right towards Agrin, the man glancing aside briefly to watch the gent power up his magic... And grinning then, speaking up in high-class Archadian accent, "Quite a thing, isn't it, old chap? I'd almost wager, judging by your obvious stature, and the rather specialized, elite nature of these juggernauts, that they might be here for you. Just an observation." He states almost pleasantly, even as he accompanies that magic with further impotent gunfire.

The mouse warrior's arm is rattled by the furious impact of spear against shield, and she jumps back, raising her shield to ward off a counter-attack... which doesn't come. Briefly perplexed, she eyes the six large beings as they form up into a defensive phalanx. "Y'kiddin'?" she drawls, as she hefts her spear. It would appear that Celeste has little interest in wasting time; she lunges forwards, purposefully ramming her spear against the nearest attacker's shield, then again, hitting low with the intent of forcing him (him?) to keep his shield positioned to take care of the attacks; before abruptly switching her grip, and sweeping her spear around to bring it up and over, and ram the perpendicular cross-blade down on the creature from above.

Archimedes draws back his rifle, gives it a quick check and studies the golem-like phalanx that has hunkered down. The bullets don't seem to be helping too much, even to pin them in. "Odd. But an invasion is still an invasion..." Lacking further information and much in the way of effect from his rifle, he secures it again and searches for higher ground. Carts, low hanging structures, up and up to a better vantage point, provided it's not too exposed to further bombing. The firearm is readied again, anticipating further movement.

A grimace at what Ainsley takes note of... She tries to scramble around the battle, and reach the party as they try to deal with the 'golems' that are attacking. She runs as fast as her little feet can carry her, tail swishing behind her. If the phalanx is closed up, they won't be concerned with her showing up, as long as she doesn't stumble within range of their weapons. "They're not golems...!" she calls to the party, wheezing. "Those are suits of armor, and they're all full of Mist! I think it's Magitech, very advanced prefolly Magitech!"

As the threat is identified, one of the rear-guard combatants' head whips around, glowing beetle-like eyes staring in Ainsley's direction. In the same instant, a hammer interposes itself between the lead soldier and Celeste's spear, and just as weapon strikes weapon, magic settles around the cluster, completely fouling the parry, and ending in one of the armored figures losing a weapon completely. As if in a dream, the disarmed soldier slowly drops his free hand to his side, and the heavy pistol holstered at the armor's hip.

No time to waste, as it were. Agrin sees his spell settle around one of the soldiers, forcing him to take another breath and begin the next round of casting. He doesn't spare a word for Alistairas his hands move through the motions for a Protection spell, eyes looking to Celeste in the front, valiantly attempting to stop the marching armor. The same pattern of runes move along his body, lighting up as he attempts once again to focus his will. The girl behind him, however, places a hand on Alistair's shoulder. "Please, inside, sir." She looks deathly pale, shaking with trepidation. Alistair glances over at the girl gripping his shoulder... And offers her a faint smile even as he answers, "I'm not sure retreating inside your home will do anyone much good, dear girl... They seem quite intent on the place." And looking back over to Agrin then, as he adds next towards him, "I would suggest running, my man. Putting distance and this fair city's many armed citizens between you might be your best bet. Do you expect these louts to wade through the entire metropolis?" And he shakes his head then, even as he spares a glance to those directly engaging the phalanx.

Celeste gets a brief look of satisfaction as her strike knocks the hammer out of the construct's hand; of course, then it is reaching for a pistol, but that hardly seems to concern her. She dashes forwards, closing what little distance there was and ramming her shield full against the lead warrior's metal bulwark. As metal clangs against metal, she lances her spear forwards, seeking the space between one guard and another, or perhaps under, seeking to connect her blade with her opponent's legs. As she withdraws her weapon, she steps back, and swings it high overhead once more; she rams the crossblade downwards, seeking this time not to injure, but merely to hook it around behind the top of the construct's shield; she lets her own hang by the strap around her arm as she releases it for the moment, holding her spear with both hands as she pulls, letting out a loud bellow of effort as she puts her considerable strength into the attempt to yank loose one of the shields.

[RP] Staffer Rebecca says, "The first airship bombarding the walls has been driven off by the city guard and by intrepid citizens of Emberstrand, but the damage is done. Dead and dying lay at the city's walls and farmland has been destroyed."

The Temple District:

Lily widens her eyes and pins back her ears at how Talen describes the situation, startled by the mental image of people being turned to paste in the street. She steps aside, finding somewhere to sit. "Lily," she introduces to the two Viera. "I met your shaman before," she adds, speaking to Alba and gesturing to Talen.

Talen lets out a low sigh, and sniffles just a little as he is lowered into the bedroll. "I have everything I need right now.", he mumbles, an arm clinging to the one around his waist. "I will face the day tomorrow and see what it brings then. Even if hell comes through those doors... I will not stir." His eyes open just a crack, "Ah... the Mithra. I am glad you have survived, but I am sad that you will learn of what an orphanage really does."

Penny nods, though not getting right away who Alba is referring to as 'shaman', "High Priestess of Mog? I'll send your message, and assume Mog's High Priestess will know who you're referring to." It's Lily gesture to Talen when referring, again, to 'shaman' what makes it click, motioning to Talen herself, "He's...?" She shifts subjects to introduction, after that, nodding to Alba, "And I'm Penny, one of the Cathedral Guards. I know Talen as well, we went of a journey together a short while back."

Alba curls more tightly around Talen, eyes narrowing as they dart from Penny to Lily and back again, only settling once Talen speaks to Lily with familiarity. "...Alba," she says after a moment. "Of the airship Doodlebug." To most who've spent much time Dockside, the name would be familiar... in a sort of 'knives are catharsis' sort of way.

"You are the knife rabbit, that drunk people are afraid of and yet talk of openly," Lily notes, recognizing the name, waggling a finger at Alba. She curls up where she's sitting, then, and watches them, tail curling around for her to play with the red ribbon and the silent bell. She looks at Talen worriedly. "I cannot fight bombs," she says, hushedly, "I wish I had someone to stab for this."

Talen hmms and nods, "Penny and I did get into a bad spot together, with ... who else? Raziel? Thaylorn?" The Viera yawns, and presses back against Alba, as if to burrow under her. "I'm... going to sleep now. Sorry."

Penny, evidently, doesn't recognize the name, but with how little time she spends at the dock, that wouldn't surprise anyone, so Alba gets a polite smile, and a casual touch of two gauntleted fingers to the edge of her helm's visor, "A pleasure to make your acquaintance, despite the grave circumstances, Alba." She ah's a bit at Lily's description of Alba, blinking a little, and looking altogether unsure of how much of that she truly believes. But someone, another guard, calls for Penny, and she raises a hand in acknowledgement, looking to Alba and Lily, noticing that Talen has already drifted off, "I have to go see to something. If either of you need anything, just ask anyone, even a guard, and we'll get what you need for you."

The City Gates:

Mordecai finally emerges as he watches the ship retreat... Wiggling his way back out of that scrub, and slinging that rifle across his shoulder as he pushes to his feet... His expression grim, pale eyes cold, as he begins to move then... Walking right for the damaged main gate, watching as the city wall smolders from that recent attack, a sight he has seen many times before in his long life as an Archadian mercenary- busting cities used to be his job.

Marduke glances to Jenna, "I suppose, thinking back on that. It was rather crazy wasn't it?" Glancing back to the ship, "They still were successful in their mission." The dragon coming to a stop at the gates and landing. Fading away as the time is spent. Marduke shakes his head slowly and sighs, "Umm please do not kill me now." A sheepish smile offered to Jenna, before he turns grim looking over the wreckage of the gate. "Needless and wonton destruction, their method of operation. Destroy the people before you conqure them." Glancing back to Mordecai, "Force them to have to rely on their new masters to survive. Reminds me of their methods four hundred years ago."

Raziel lowers his eyes and then he looks back at the city again. As the dragon lands and the sniper emerges from the brush and heads back to the city the mage exhales a breath. Rather than walk the distance he takes to wing and lands instead not all that far from Marduke while catching part of what he's stating. "Testing our defenses as well," the man adds before nodding off, "but despite the damage they were repelled. Sadly we need to se to more repairs now. Excuse me."

The Promenade:

Archimedes may be a bit out of the way, but he's not out of the fight. As the clash with the mist-armor continues, he sets his sights on them again. Given a little peace and quiet to himself, he ejects the current ammunition and reloads a bit of his own. Crude, improvised bullets just capable of delivering a quick spell, no more effective than casting it naturally. It does have a little surprise, though, when he fires off a shot into the middle of the armors. He doesn't need to be precision, just keep it away from Celeste--and deliver a burst of arcane fire amidst them. [Fire] "Let's see how you do with that..."

"They're all people inside armor! We need one of those suits, it has to be studied!" Ainsley calls to them, hoping they catch what she's saying. She squeaks as she takes note of the one who had turned to look at her, and tries to turn a fire spell on that one's face immediately, while backing away from the melee.

Main force, sadly, seems to be what these soldiers have been primed for; even against the warrior's considerable strength, the shield barely budges, and the inattention is more than enough to allow the one who drew its pistol to level it on its squad-mate's shoulder, angled down toward Agrin, and pull the trigger. At the rear of the group, both soldiers stagger as twin Fire magics impact against face and chest; good against most known ammunition, not so much against magics, it would seem.

The fired bullet makes a beeline for Agrin just as the Protect spell launches to encircle Celeste. The bullet crashes into Agrin's good leg, toppling him in a scream of pain, the cane dropped as he crumples to the ground. Bone fragments and blood litter the cobblestones as it appears his good knee has been shot through. His daughter, Masha, moves forward, anger gleaming in her features as her father's been injured. She looks as though she'll try to fight them with her bare hands if need be.

Alistair watches with a quirk of his brow as the older man goes down next to him... An ever so brief glance given to the blood splattering the lower half of his own person, before he instantly moves forward, slipping his hands below Agrin's arms from the back, and starting to drag him off like that, away from the advancing troops... Leaving a trail of blood along the street as he goes, but barely seeming to lose his calm as he does so... And shouting towards those still actively fighting meanwhile, "Keep our guests busy a tad longer, if you please!"

Celeste's muscles strain, and she grits her teeth, snarling with the effort. How is this possible? She would have pulled an adamantoise in half by now. Finally, she gives up with that tactic, just as the protect spell is enveloping her with its serene, defensive field. "Masha!" she shouts, after a brief glance over her shoulder at the scream, "Getcher pops outta here!" She tugs a moment longer with her weapon hooked over the shield, before she angles her spear, and rames it forwards, aiming for the large construct's face. She pulls her weapon back, and deftly slings her shield across her back; using both hands to grip her spear, she winds up, issuing a fierce battle-yell as she swings the blade high over head, bringing it crashing down once again over the top. [Heavy Blow]

Archimedes knows an effect when he sees one. There's little more in his arsenal, so he calmly loads another arcane catalyst and shifts through the group. Until the scene changes, he's quite intent in keeping them under [Fire]. Carefully watching the body language of the allies below. It gives him just a little bit of tunnel vision, though.

The spell works! Ainsley laughs triumphantly at the sight, and immediately prepares for another spell, aiming for the stagger in the ranks to try and split their formation apart. Just another [Fire] spell! "Get the hell out of Emberstrand!" she cries at them, knowing they're people in there.

Fire, fire, and rage, but while three separate armored soldiers stagger closer inward under the tripartite assault, the formation doesn't break... except in one place. On one side from Masha, a shield whips open, and an armored hand snakes out to grab hold of the nobleman's daughter, locking a crushing grip around the girl's upper arm. "Objective," that soldier calls, his voice muffled and distorted... and six shields dip inward, hands slapping against chest panels, resulting in a slow, building whine, as the glowing seams fade from white to red. A moment's further struggle, and as though signaled, the soldier's formation breaks into a scatter.

But overhead, the Dauntless' unceasing cannonfire is joined by an even louder sound; that of Mist Engines failing so catastrophically, as to take off the back third of an entire airship. Using the sudden destruction of their ride home as a distration, the soldiers dart away, moving with a speed only possible by magic.

Agrin struggles to get the hands dragging him off him as he sees his daughter run ahead to fight and is snatched by the armored soldiers. He tries in depseration to go through the motions of a Thunder spell, but the pain of his leg is too much. The spell falls apart as the runes tattoed into his body fluctuate and eventually putter out of their power. His adopted city attacked, his own knee shot out, and now his daughter taken from him. His eyes squint in pain, vision blurred at the edges. It all makes sense in his pain-riddled mind. "Motherfucking Daschel," he curses under his breath.

Alistair is given pause as several things happen at once... The girl being snagged, the ship loudly exploding, and the armored soldiers escaping with unnatural speed... The man's pale eyes flicking to each event, taking it all in... Before he somewhat unceremoniously lets go of the struggling Agrin, arching his brow at the man's cursing... And after a moment of thought stating to no one in particular, "Seems I misread the situation... Their intent." And putting on a ponderous, almost distracted expression, not seeming to bother to go after the fleeing troopers.

Celeste has no such distraction as Alistair. This is not going at all the way the Mouse had envisioned it; seemingly indestructible warriors, kidnappings... but with their ship destroyed, how can they possibly hope to escape the city? "FIGHT ME!" she roars, as she sets into a run, chasing after the one that's snagged Masha, "FIGHT ME! COWARDS! LEAVE 'ER 'LONE AN' FIGHT DAMN Y'ALL!" She unships her shield and lets it clatter noisily to the ground behind her, freeing her up to move more fleet of foot as she charges, trying to hook her spear around the construct's ankles to trip it up. "HOLD ON MASHA!"

Archimedes snaps into action, following in pursuit as long as the higher ground will let him, before having to shift to the streets below--if at all. There's little fanfare or cry to his own pursuit, but no less desparate. He leaves his rifle where he was prone, leaving him far less burdened for pursuit. Even letting them get away with this one, it's just unacceptable.

Ainsley ends up flailing in a panic as they all run off, one of them running too close by where she's standing... and then stares around and frowns at the sight of no downed magitech soldiers. She lets out a heavy sigh, and looks up at the sky, where the ship, well, will shortly no longer be aloft. She frowns, and approaches the injured noble hurriedly. "I can provide some healing magic," she tells the others.

The ship itself, after a short, dramatic circular slew, splashes down on the far side of the Giza River, allowing the Dauntless to return to its berth, triumphant. Neither Celeste nor Archimedes, however, are so fortunate; the Haste-enhanced speed of the soldier, coupled with a judicious blast from the vent on the lower end of the armor's bulky backpack, propels the soldier into the skies, toward the rooftops and the Gate beyond.

And thus does the first true blow land under the Lion Banner; farmlands destroyed, gate-guardsman decimated, and one young woman, taken from the home of a noble in exile. Whatever may happen, history will long remember; 29th Blackfrost, 900 Old Valendian -- The day war began anew in Ivalice.

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