[color=olive][h2]Richard Montag - Babylonia[/h2][/color]

[color=olive]"Hmm, a shame."[/color] The dapper magus said with a disappointed shake of his hand, his hands patting his trouser legs to brush off the lingering dirt. He settled with his back to the wall and arms folded, casually observing the lumbering golem the others had charged towards. [color=olive]"If it has no flesh or breath, I'm not going to be of much help without preparation beforehand. Like Master like Servant..."[/color]


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[color=C71585][h2]Tamamo No Mae - Scandinavia[/h2][/color]
 
These were certainly persistent beasts, Tamamo would concede that much, but it was a fruitless endeavor if they thought they still had any chance of harming them. Even with their full might, the wolves had only injured a replaceable familiar, and that power only decreased with every dead or crippled beast.

[color=C71585]"Oh no, you won't lay a flea bitten paw on my Master~!"[/color] The Vulpine witch cried out and leapt in front of Seyrun, her reflector bared and ready to rebuke the hellish hounds if they thought to slip past the front line. 


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[color=gold][h2]Margarita Reynard - Scandinavia[/h2][/color]

The flow of battle seemed to be overwhelmingly in their favor, despite the auditory injury inflicted on the town's guards. Even Margarita found herself missing a few shots at the outset of the howl but was quick to correct herself when they divided once more. A flamboyant declaration came from the sultry Caster with an obsession for public display's of affection, and Margarita found herself inching behind the fox as well. Odds were better then not that Tamamo wouldn't take a step out of place to save someone who wasn't her dear Master.

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[@Beloss][@KoL][@PKMNB0Y][@VitaVitaAR]