[center][h2] [color=a36209]Walgrave - Scandinavia[/color] [/h2][/center] [hr] Walgrave cackled madly as he watched his spell send a group of the wolves flying back into a tornado that had been conjured behind them, their fur burning and shriveling under the intense heat. He grimaced a moment latter as the explosion of flame died down revealing the true extent of the damage he had done. While he had spread fire among the wolves just as planed, the direct explosive impact had done far less then what he envisioned. Truly these were monsters that were not to be trifled with... Before him the battle was raging at a fever pitch, volleys of spells being unleashed while ahead of them Rider and the savage looking spearman alongside a demented demonic butler whirled about in a terrific melee. Rider was making excellent account of himself he was somewhat surprised to see, inflicting terrible injury on the wolves around him, while remaining unscathed despite their focused efforts on him. Between them all the land was being turned into hell, and the former seemingly unstoppable advance of these giant hounds was stalling. Grunting in satisfaction Walgrave turned as the Enforcer Reynard suddenly shouted, alerting him to the dire straights that one of the summoned minions of the Casters was in. He gathered up his prana once more, quietly chanting his Aria, he focused on the wolf which the Enforcer had shot in the leg, sending a quick series of streaming flames towards the beasts eyes and long ears. His magical circuits were still warm from the previous invocation, the new flames were nothing like the former fireball he had unleashed, meant to distract rather than destroy. [hr] [h2][center][color=fff200]Sinfjotli - Scandinavia[/color][/center][/h2] [hr] Sinfjotli laughed as he tore his spear from the heart of the beast before him, and then quickly sprung back as slavering jaws snapped shut just where his head had been an instant before. [color=fff200][i]You should have chosen answer me dog![/i][/color] He snarled in the tongue of wolves, before darting forward to thrust his spear into the throat of the monster that had targeted him. Blood spurted from the wound he had made, and he twisted the spearhead as he withdrew it, ensuring a slow painful death. For any ordinary beast that had received such a wound at least. Without even looking that strange hyper awareness of battle was coming upon him, and he could feel the tide of the conflict swirling around him, and around the intrepid Rider especially. They had halted the wolves advance at least, though the monsters were still very dangerous. Sparring an instant he glanced over Siegfried, watching as the turned this way and that dodging around the giant hounds as they attempt to gang up on him. When for an instant his back was exposed to him Sinfjotli twitched, tempted to try something, even if he knew the window of opportunity had been far to small to succeed, and that no credit could come to him from cutting down the noble hero in such a way. Pulling himself away from the view he turned, charging in to aid the harried Rider who was about to be rushed by a pack of the brutes. Shouting as he ran headlong into the pack he thrust again and again, seeking to disrupt their attack rather than kill them, he targeted legs and paws and the soft belly's of the monsters. Moving at full speed now with the agility of a god he raged all about him, unafrade of any counterattack, jabbing remorselessly with his bitter weapon at every target than presented itself, all while laughing and taunting the wolves in their own language. [hr] [center][h2] [color=00aeef]Pavel Dumitru - Babylonia[/color] [/h2][/center] [hr] Pavel gave one last withering look back at the staircase which his faithful hound had fled down and then turned back to the walls to face the oncoming horde. Before him a battle was raging of titanic proportions. The Heroic Spirits were in full swing, hammering the attacking forces with the strength of gods. Against the oncoming horde however even their great strength seemed to be a drop in the ocean. Though he felt that it probably would not make much difference against such a force, Pavel grimaced and started chanting his Aria, moveing his hands in slow patterns before him. Blue fire began to gutter from his hands. Along the ground in the shadow of the City Walls, in sudden swirls of blue flame sprung from the arid earth, and rows of Babylonian footmen suddenly sprung into being. They marched forward determinedly, rushing forward to menace the skeletal beasts and various monsters. They moved in a wedge, following slowly after the Servants who had rushed forward to meet the distant golem that had appeared on the Horizon, and locking their shields to fill the gap that they had created. He just hoped that the archers on the walls would have the sense to pepper the gap with arrows when the beasts rushed in the butcher his non existent phalanx.