Snippet #1508476

This was it. There had been victories before this, but...this one was so much more. This was a win that meant something more than another day of pay, rations and survival. It meant that the Legion of Ashes, the Paragon, was one step closer to ending this blight upon Norr. Dragonkind was one the path to extinction. Wrath smiled at the skewed salutes and bleary eyes of his unit. "Mekillot, tend to those of us who can't walk," he raised an eyebrow and sized up the group, "That appears to be around half of us."

Pel hopped up with even the slightest of complaints, a prayer to her patron angel already at her lips. The halfling approached Alistair and released a pulse of divine radiance. She winced as the sound of bones resetting themselves filled the air for a few seconds. "Sorry. Forgot to tell ya that was going to hurt like seven mothers...don't try flying for at least two days." next to be healed were Turha and Gurgen, who nodded gratefully as their weariness receded. Last, was Kisikoni. Pel padded over to crouch before the deep human, lips upturned in a half-smile. "Maybe I should've just healed you, ya lightweight. Can't stand after a bit of live-leather-luvvins?" still smiling, the cleric pressed her forehead to Kisikoni's and allowed a portion of her energizing aura to flow into him. Just before parting however, her bright eyes met his. "Next time you keep a gal waiting though, don't expect any better than sub-par battlefield healing."

With the cleric looking paler for her efforts and the group more or less mobile, it was time to move. Wrath was standing on the edge of the wall overlooking the interior of their captured city. He had his hand near his ear, the former of which held a stone with a rune inlaid with emerald. "Yes. Good. Make sure the smithy and the schools are held in check as well. I don't want any townsfolk, young or old thinking that they can cavort around under our noses. No way to make more weapons, none of the rebellious youth getting funny ideas." he was about to put the stone away when a thought occured to him. "Oh, yes, scavenge the corpses. From what you've said we haven't sustained any permanent losses but I still want our supplies fresh. I don't want to be here longer than is nece...hm? A scout? You caught him, correct? Good. I want you and Wrynne on the interrogation. Good work. Over."

The rune grew dim and Wrath looked to the sky, which was alive with the wingbeats of griffons, giant bats, tamed drakes and every other manner of winged mount. On the ground, within Scalescrossing his soldiers shouted out commands and herded the townspeople into their homes. A smile was growing on his sharp features, and Wrath turned to the Black Guard. "Excellent work. You are all free to go, it looks like we may be here for a little while."

---

Dusk

As the sun set on Scalescrossing, nobody could say that it was not officially under Legion control. The newly occupied city was alight even in the evening hours, the growing army of over three-thousand having taken up residence in almost all free space. Tents flooded the streets and parks, and temporary domiciles were set up within the tower and all fourteen inns. Even two or three ale-houses. Wrath was in simpler civillian clothing and walking down the cluttered main street of Scalescrossing. He saw the faces of his soldier light up as he passed by, and comments of his bravery. Of course. What kind of general attacked with the vanguard? It was not unheard of to be in the front lines, but to fight alongside the group most likely to perish? The notion bordered on lunacy.

Those faces that disappeared within the darkness of windows up high did not escape the young general's notice. Citizens, holed up in their homes cast loathesome looks down upon the legionnaires when they suspected the army was not looking. Wrath scowled. He had been in occupied settlements before...there was bound to be trouble. Especially if they missed any Children in their sweep of the city. Wrath sighed deeply and glanced around.

Without realizing it, he had stumbled upon one of the last uncrowded spots in Scalescrossing. He stood in the middle of a small recreational park, with a small pond and a single bench under an awning to sit on. Wrath shrugged and sat down. Under the growing moonlight the water appeared more silver than anything...beautiful. Even as the first drops of rain begain to distort the calm surface of the pond, he thought so.

---

"Oie say we get shome mo' brewsh! Wadd'ya say me hearties?!" Sid, standing on top of the bar alongside an equally smashed Iriana guffawed at her gods-awful pirate accent. When the sound of rain patting against the roof began Iriana cocked her head and grinned, bursting out in an uncontrollable fit of giggling. The legionnaire manning the bar couldn't help but join in and sent out a fresh round of ale for the entirety of those present. The Lion's Mane Taphouse was buzzing with the conversation, song and curses of around a hundred or so legionnaires. Each and every injured soldier had been tended to hours earlier, not a man, woman or nightmarian in the house with bandages.

Thanaros, sitting at a window-adjacent booth smirked at the display and growled at the fifth soldier who had tried to take a seat opposite to him. He was waiting for someone. Gurgen and Turha, both rather inebriated had their arms wrapped around Liliana and were professing their love for the elf. "N-No, I'm tha one who gave th...the ok, for the fire! Think of it! We could have kids! A-And, I'll give em all lil' flamey-*hic*-paint-jobs! Yesh, thas'"

"A shtoopid oidea!" Turha interjected, punctuating the last word with a squeeze of Liliana's backside. Despite his composure as the more level-headed of the twins, as a drunk, Turha's brain-to-hands filter was non-existant. The handsome human flashed a brilliant smile and danced away, bowing before the elven lass. "I shall give you the moon, the sun and the stars, my dear. Nay, the entirety of Norr itself, not for your love of my creations, but for the flower of love I feel can bloom between us if you allow it." Gurgen, still hanging off of Liliana, was stunned. Not by the words themselves, but with the coherance his brother had managed to muster in their booze-induced haze.

Near the center of the mass, Qinn was situated at a small, squat table and surrounded by roughly twenty other female harpies. At her side was Achiru, leaning back on his chair rather uncomfortably as the females eyed him like a freshly served steak. Across from Qinn the eleventh challenger of the night sat down, and the two harpies locked their right hands, pressing their elbows to the table. "Ready...set...go!" in moments Qinn slammed her opponent's arm against the table and crowed for the next challenger. Nobody was getting her mate today. Elsewhere in the bar, a smaller flock of females were searching for Alistair. unclaimed prey was easier, if not more satisfying, than the former choice.

At the stage, a band had just finished setting up and began playing a magically-amplified tune to carry over the general din of the taphouse. It was a raunchy tune about a tattooed whore who did nothing but drug herself silly and sing songs day and night. At this, most of the females in the room squealed in drunken delight.

Sid and Iriana began helping up any woman who wanted to hop onto the bar, and Pel even managed to drag the sulking Ferka up. They began dancing in unison, a jaunt that most girls--despite their parent's disapproval--learned at one point in their teenage lives. Alot of grinding, hip-shaking and leaning over for some cleavage-filled fanservice. Beelzes screamed and grabbed at Faera. "Come on, we need to dance! Spellcasters have to represent, you know?"

Below the sultry line of women, in the clamour of cheering and singing legionnaires, Mikana smiled awkwardly and looked downward blushing furiously. She had never even heard of this song, much less anything with that kind of...message...

"There once was a girl scan-ti-ly garbed, with ink in'er skin afar.
She danced and sucked and fucked said men, the girl, her name was Star!
Piles of white, weeds that burned, it was all good with this lass,
For the more ya showed, the more she blowed, and shook that tight 'lil ass!

At this, all the women on top of the bar jumped in a 180 and bent over smacked their rumps, drawing a fresh round of cheers from the crowd.