Snippet #1470664

Jurial Plains

"Time's up." With a small flash of light each legionnaire was whisked away by virtue of their enchanted suits. One by one in rapid succession those who had taken the time to activate the rune of translocation upon their breast was teleported to the designated meeting place of the Legion. Wrath and Sid were the first to go. Then those closest to their position. Faera was gone before the harpy, who had managed to avoid her counter attack gouged out her eyes. It would have been a futile gesture anyway. Kisikoni was kicked hard in the ribs by yet another Child arriving on the scene who had stumbled upon the deep human before his rune activated. By the grace of sheer luck, Talae was gone before the fire ball that Kisikoni had so narrowly avoided exploded where she had been standing only seconds prior.

All those within the defensive circle on the forest edge vanished summarily. When the magic permeated the air Ferka's eyes widened and the orc cried out in dismay. Thanaros realized the cause of her concern and looked to their brother, who was still on the ground prone in the center of their circle...his rune still red. He pushed his psionic augmentation to it's limits and boosted his natural speed to reach Junte. His hand was a hair's bredth away when he was wrenched away from the field by the magic that had saved the legion, and condemned his brother.

---

"Oh fuck it." Pel muttered a prayer to her patron angel for a boon of speed and charged from concealment directly at the three Children guarding her target objective. With her newfound alacrity the pretty young halfling dashed below and hopped over the drawn weapons of cursing Children. She made a great leap, stomping on the face of a particularly angry elf and landed on Mercy's abdomen. As the energies of the spell worked to bring Pel away from that place, the halfling shot up two middle fingers. "Peace!"

Then Pel, and the nightmarian she had anchored herself to, were gone. Zakair roared into the rain and reduced the nearest of his subordinates to cinders in his rage. When he moved to survey the field of battle, he stared down at a blue-haired elf girl with her throat cut. Zakair's eyes softened and he stroked her cheek. Without looking away, he called to the arcanites who were floating down from the sky. "Heal Mikana...heal my daughter."

---

Jurial Plains, North-Ridge

The legionnaires found themselves sprawled out on the floor within a large stone basin. It's interior was inlaid with runes that glowed faintly in time with those on their armor before both guttered out. Wrath stood slowly, shaking off the disorienting sickness that accompanied teleportation spells and moved to meet the thirty black-plated knights guarding the portal. "Liu-Wen, Wrath, captain of the Fortieth legion. We were ambushed. Given incorrect or outdated intel. Forced to retreat. Are there any other legions in the camp?"

A knight of the Legion stepped forward, removing her helm. A human with blonde hair that spilled out over her armor. She stared at the captain for a long while before answering. "Your identity is confirmed. No sir, thre are no other legions present, so the luxury portions of the camp are open to you until a higher ranking officer arrives." Creasing her brow, she hastily added. "General Derenthi was here earlier. He had need of the healers stationed here, so your troops will have to wait until tommorow when the new clerics arrive for aid. Captain Mercy, please, feel free to make use of the commander's tent in the center of camp. Drinks have been prepared for your arrival."

Wrath's lips tightened to a thin line. It was obvious he was angry. Very angry. Yet, the man simply smoothed out his ruffled hair and nodded. "Thank you."

Sid, having regained her footing, helped Wrath in helping the other members of their battered troop to their temporary quarters. Outside of the portal building, a camp of fourty or so tents of varying sizes was arrayed before them. It was raining here too. Wrath lead them to the center of a ring of good sized tents and made the troops stand in the rain while he took stock. Sid bowed her head in silence, Iriana, Quinn, Beelzes and Achiru followed suit. Thanaros simply looked into the gray sky with a grim expression, as Ferka wailed in sorrow.

"Private Eyegouger. Scout O'uneiran. Recruit Veldrin. Killed in action. We will remember. Private First-Class Junte Hellstriker. Missing in action. We will remember." Wrath lowered his eyes for a moment of silence, then snapped to attention. "Those with heavy wounds, report to sargeant Mellikot. I can deal with light wounds. If you are simply bruised or tired get to a tent and get some rest..."

Achiru and Quinn were immediately dismissed, as the harpies had surprisingly few burns for those who had done battle with srocerers. They retreated to a tent together talking about the battle in low tones. Ferka and Thanaros were similarly sent away without healing, having only suffered minor cuts and bruises. Thanaros looked completely drained and walked away to sit down cross-legged in the rain watching the healing as his sister disappeared into a dark tent. Beelzes had suffered a deep cut in her side, but if the deep human was troubled by it, she gave no indication. Pel administered holy rejuvinative magicks to her and Hokunn...she layed the elf in a tent out of the rain and bandaged the damage on his stomach she could not heal. It was unclear of whether the elf would survive the night. The same could be said for Laila, as her burns were severe.

With a sigh Pel slapped a hand on Caine's burnt wrist and poured healing magic into it. "Don't let them grab you dolt! Didn't they teach you anything in boot camp?" The wounded flesh shifted from puffy and red to a pale, slightly bloated scar. "The swelling will go down in a couple days." As Caine would get up to leave, Sid patted his leg and whispered a word of encouragement. Kisikoni was next for healing. Four broken ribs and a fractured skull. No concussion though..."Stop squirmin' ya skinny little..." Pel got a look at his face and paused mid-sentence. "Hunk of man...erm. Yeah..." several prayers set the bones back in place and mended Kisikoni's bones. "Just don't move around too much until tommorow...uh..." Before he could get up to go to a tent though, the buxom halfling squeezed Kisikoni's hand. "Although, if you stop by my tent I could be inclined to go against that advice..." with that in the air she let the deep human go. Pel sagged slightly, wiping the streaking makeup from her heart-shaped face and shuffling to her tent for some rest.

"Neira...go on. Duran...you should have enough magic to heal what petty damage you've suffered. Gilleas, just some bruises. Good to go." Wrath inspected each soldier in turn and dismissed them almost immediately depending on their state. As Faera walked up he smiled faintly. "I'm glad you aren't dead, mageling. Unscathed as well." his eyes met those of the darkling's drake familiar. "It seems even you got your claws bloody..so to speak. You may go sit down in the tent on you six' and wait for your sister." As Talae was called up to sit in front of him, the last to be healed, his smiled waned only slightly. A palm was gently placed against the rent flesh in Talae's side. The same hand that had been all but dead a short while ago, was now fully colored and moving. "Talk to Sid or Caine tommorow. Learn to use heavier weapons...it's a little too obvious that you are new to warfare tactics." Before any response could be raised Wrath spoke a children's rhyme and white magic pulled the darkling's flesh back together, leaving only a thin gray scar. "And I am sorry for the way I looked at you earlier."

Without any explanation the captain arose, stretched and went off to his own tent. He did not even glance at the bed as he shed his sodden clothing. Donning a thin cloth vestment and cotton pants, Wrath sat at a desk provided by the Legion and began his report. There was a fair bit he wished to relay, and even more he wanted relayed back.

---

Back at the battlefield, all was silent. The Children had moved on and only the steady rain provided a break in the rhythym of the forest. A body stirred, pushing itself up from the muck with a groan. Yanis moved to rub his throbbing head and yowled in pain when his forehead bumped the stump that was his wrist. That's right...lost that thing. Ow...

The halfling legionnaire used his remaining hand to pick up a nearby shortsword and slung it in his belt. He turned towards the forest. Gotta reach the tower...have to warn the Legion. Yaris was wlking unsteadily towards his destination soon after. A pair of orcs were hot on his trail, not that he would know anything of that.