[center][h3]Brewing Storm[/h3]
[@krayzikk][@sho minazuki][@herecomesthesnow][@kaithas][@plank Sinatra][@suku][@narayank][/center]

While the Manticore repositioned, the radio came alive.  The voice of Goodwitch, not much less composed than normal but still a notable departure from her usual tone, declared, “I’m on my way.  I’ll strike from above and open it up.  Be careful; if we can force it to retreat, we can buy enough time to get the survivors out.”  Having kept abreast of the teams’ chatter, Goodwitch knew that in a very short time the survivors from the basement, the second floor, and the hunters Jack, Cian, Lucas, Lauren, and Sangue would be exiting the building.  At least, she hoped as much, and saw no reason why they wouldn't.  A Manticore was a monstrous threat, one that she knew her students could fight but almost certainly not beat.  No amount of bravado on their part would suddenly give them the power to take down a beast never before encountered or properly prepared against.  Next time, Goodwitch vowed, she would demand that mission control send in recon to discover problems like this first.  Now that the students were out of the frying pan and into the fire, though, Beacon’s combat instructor would not allow a single life to be lost.

Above the confrontation on the roof, the airship flew into position.  In midair it span, a door opening up, and the wind whipped Goodwitch’s pale blonde hair as she walked down the ramp.  Through narrowed eyes she watched two students stand before it, and picked up snippets of Benjamin’s taunts.  Did he think to enrage the beast?  Could one goad a merciless killing machine, tempered by age and reinforced by battles past?  Manticores were no garden-variety Grimm.  A plume of fire appeared as Benjamin plugged its eyes with dust, provoking an irritated snarl.  By the time he swapped in lightning dust for a second volley, however, the beast moved its left foreleg into position to block the yellow bolts.  For all of its experience, it couldn’t have known that the puny beings before it wielded ranged attacks.  Benjamin’s search for bunched muscles turned up an abundance; the monstrous Grimm moved forward, putting more of its body onto the roof, and slammed down at him with its upheld left paw.

It did not stop at this, however.  When one enormous foreleg fell, the other rose, and in a frenzy it beat the roof of the distillery like a humungous drum.  Its huge crushing limbs and deadly claws hammered down again and again, in various positions and with nightmarish speed.  The roof and walls began to buckle readily, crumpled as if they were plastic.  Snapping her riding crop, Goodwitch hoped that both Benjamin and Amaranth could escape this catastrophic attack rush.  She flourished her weapon, sending a deluge of purple magic spears to pepper the creature from above.  They lodged in its scalp and back, hurting it a little more, perhaps, than splinters might hurt a human, but for the moment at least the Manticore would not halt its frenzied assault.  Goodwitch frowned and prepared to cast a more decisive spell.

[center][i]-meanwhile-[/i][/center]

As near-panicked as they were from the terrifying noises and vibrations filling the building, the survivors managed to succinctly convey what they could do to help with remarkable composure.  Of course, not a single one thought that standing around talking about skills would be a better option than just grabbing the girl and getting the hell out of dodge, but they seemed committed to the idea that Jack knew best how to handle the situation.  Lucas, Cian, and Jack were informed that the group could take a detour through the underground garage and ride the lift straight up to the distillery’s loading area outside the front.  One of the survivors revealed himself to be the technician who usually ran the transportation routines, and that as long as the facility had power he could unlock the system and get everyone up.

With this information relayed, the group of survivors almost instantly began moving in the indicated direction, only to freeze and wait for the hunters’ say-so.  Nobody had told them who would be best suited to carrying Priscilla, either.  At the very least, the attention paid to her by Lucas and Cian ensured that she would be able to be transporting without too serious a risk of further injury.