Indrau took his place near the head of the column. The single night inside of the keep on a proper bed did wonders for his mood but the week since had quickly eroded it. Constantly being on edge and anticipating an attack didn't help either. Today was no different. Every copse of trees or roadside hill was a potential hiding place for an ambush.

Mostly, however, has was simply bored and ill tempered. There was little within a months ride of Aimlenn that he'd no seen. If he'd been able to keep up the pace perhaps he might have volunteered to scout ahead but his leg had worsened since leaving the fortress at Nev. So Indrau rode in abject silence, a healthy gap between him and anyone else.




Salz had managed to blend into the mass of civilians, as much as a ten foot half giant could at any rate. Somewhere she had found a damaged tent(or three) that had been made into a cloak to cover her armor and weapons. Now she walked near the center of the pack in the shadow of one of the wagons with a kid on each shoulder and a third on her hip. Her presence had certainly helped keep things moving, it was easy to fix a broken axle or get a stuck wagon moving again with someone who could simply lift it along for the journey.

The sheer variety of terrain they had come across was astounding to the desert dweller. All she had known before were the coastal deserts of her homeland and the forests around the Indrau estate.

She didn't like this. She didn't like this at all. The terrain was unfavourable and they were hamstrung by escorting a group of civilians at the behest of some lord or other that, in all honesty, should have raised their own troops to do such a thing. Treating the knights as a glorified delivery service was plainly arrogant and there was no other way to put it.

Lilianna's attempts to hide her status were, to put it simply, non-existent. There was no mark, no identification that would signal that she was a knight or one of the knights--and who would be surprised by some minor noble accompanying the peasantry? Of course she had a sword; to do so was both fashionable and incredibly stupid to not do.

It was a done deal already. Both Sunfield sisters did not even attempt to overturn the plan or change it. Indeed, with so many people involved, little could be done about that. 'Nero's' stomach churned in disgust to see the common folk used in that way, huddled in a caravan, but the powergames between the nations could mean that any wrong step would scalate in friction between factions. Still, things could be done. Among the folk, there was a Reonite priest who was eager to help the knight's whims. And both 'Sult' and herself had concocted a plan to help them even further.

Both were undercover as acolytes of Reon. For 'Sult', it wasn't difficult to look the part, given she had training as priestess, but the eagerness of the priests' daughter had been tricky to deal with. Well, nothing she could have handled on her own, after all, the girl who wanted to play knight was her own reason for existing. She had swung a couple of times, and gave her a couple of tips.

'Nero' for the most part, was taciturn, posing nearby the captain worried for her safety, under the acolyte garbs of Reon. She looked somber, and eyed every crevice in the road searching for ambush signs. No one in the knights seemed to like the situation.

Meanwhile, 'Sult' was slightly more relaxed, if only because watching a certain half-giant knight carting several children around. She couldn't help herself and made her voice be apparent. "You know, you do remind me of a certain someone in the Black Ravens." she directed to Salz.

What was Mariah doing these days, she wondered.

A small voice trills up from behind 'Sult', “Black ravens are ugly. It should be pink!” it said (more yelled really) before a sudden thump landed against 'Sult's buttocks, demanding attention. A platinum haired child had planted her arms firmly around 'Sult's hips, her chin resting on the small of the older woman's back as she stared up. “Hi miss Knight!” Gwyndoline chirps in greeting, voice nearly cracking with eagerness. “Daddy said I could play er...walk with you if I didn't bother anything, can I? Pleassseeee” She begs, bouncing slightly up and down as best she could without relinquishing her grip on the woman. A few carts forward, a blonde man leans out from a carriage, interrupting the doubtlessly thrilling conversation Gill and the elderly grouch who drove them, throwing her an apologetic look of defeat. A choir of greetings echo off of Salz as the children greeted their friend from their positions on 'the mountain lady'.

More rocks began to peek through the sod as they moved, heading towards yet another crack in the rock, the last two hundred meter barrier before the caravan hit smooth road to Nev. Gill resignedly sighed as the Priest peeked out from behind Gambl, waving back into the crowd. Conversation wasn't going anywhere anyway. He shifted in his saddle, moving a pauldron. The air felt strangely thin to him and his arm was bedeviled by some strange vague numbness for the past hour. He'd chalked it up to riding too long.

“Any signs of trouble?” A soft male voice asks from the carriage, Margold peeking out once again, raising his voice slightly so Belwiss or the captain (not too far from them), would hear. “...aside from whatever my daughter might be causing...” He adds with an embarrassed laugh. The man seemed preternaturally young to be a father in Gill's mind, but good breeding could explain that away. Or divine favor. With clergy it was sort of hard to tell.

“Not since the last hour you asked...” Gill mumbles to himself, adjusting the pauldron again. The man seemed to be a perpetual worrier, and one long since accustomed to his previously sedentary lifestyle (if the slight punch he was starting to show spoke true.) Despite his prayers to Mayon, he doubted this would even be the last time such an inquiry would be made by the man.

She adjusted her shoulders to better compensate for the now squirming children and tilted her head at 'Sult'. Salz looked down at her for a minute in thought. It took a few seconds to recall what had meen mentioned about the Sunfield family.

"Oh? Indrau hadn't gone into any detail regarding your sisters knights in his letters. I'd like to hear about them."

She walked another couple of paces, one for every two of the other knights. Then something else came to mind.

"Ah! And of course I'd love to hear more about you. Indrau wrote a great many letters but they seemed to be a little bit... critical."

@AtomicNut

Fanilly didn't like this at all.

The civilians were far too easy of a target, it was so... so dangerous having them here. She half-wondered if the nobility who had arranged this would come under fire for such a careless, thoughtless decision. This wasn't the only matter that drifted through her mind, however. It didn't take the tactical training she had received leading up to her position as Knight-Captain for the girl to understand that this location was a prime spot for an ambush. While she was certain her knights could destroy a barbaric cult, the matters that concerned her instead fell upon their ability to protect the peasants while doing so. If even one died it was a terrible failure. It was the life of a defenseless innocent that had been taken by black-hearted murderers, and it would have been on her watch. Could she protect these people? She had to, but in this situation...

She had to.

Astride her white mare, Fanilly gripped the reigns, her thoughts plaguing her. She wasn't a Saint, like the resplendent light that had founded this order. The girl was painfully aware of that fact, that she could not simply do impossible things to keep these people safe. But she couldn't bare the thought of one of them dying. Each of these civilians' lives were just as valuable as the lives of anyone else who had not forfeited such value with evil deeds. So she couldn't allow a single one to die.

But Fanilly's faith in her ability to do so had worn so very thin.

Under expectations, what a disappointment... Klaus shook her head under the staggering amount of victories she gained from the ring. She was hoping for some heavyweights to appear amongst the flock, that would ensure the villagers some value in the battlefield. They won't survive... She gave a piercing look at those villagers as she walked away for the night's rest.

Klaus felt like she is sending those peasants to the execution grounds, rather than a normal escort trip. The place Dragonback gave her a very bad feeling about this place. Positioning herself on the left flank, she tightened the knots along her armour. An ambush here, and they die ~ She kept her guard up upon passing by this place.

As the caravan descended deeper into the canyon, the air grew stale and strangely cold. Grass gave way to alabaster stone, rough and unhewn by decades of rain wash. For those of magical inclination, a odd ache was passing through their temples, perhaps the onset of a migraine from the many days traveled. Indrau, near the front, the hooves of his steed clacking against the shale in a mock metronome of his pace, could feel Silence gain a faint heaviness, imperceptible to anyone but its master.

Gill fiddled with his armor once more, unable to find even the slightest reprieve from the numbness in his arm now. He wondered, idly, if this was another side effect from his experiment with Soulscale. A sudden twang echo'd through the canyon, breaking the line of though the young man had as a hideous base note of spun steel reverberated from off the stone walls. Numbness blossoms in his other shoulder now, dimly drawing his attention to the arrow now poking through the plates, emerald fletching swaying softly in the breeze. “Oh.” He manages, recognition far off in his voice, catching the sight of nine other members of the order who were not as lucky. Emerald clad arrows rising from their shields, horses, or (in one mans case it seemed) visor in salute of their far off masters.

The normal din of conversation is silenced for a moment and it occurs to him, with almost dumb after thought, as he slides backwards from his horse that he should probably raise the alarm to the attack. However, the arrow protests this action, numbness now bursting into red hot pain as his vision fills with white. The momentary silence is broken as he slams into the dirt, filling the air with the renching sound of metal clashing with meat.

In an instant, a volley of arrows had struck their convoy. Fanilly felt her concerns had, of course, come to fruition. She had hated coming here, hated coming here and placing these civilians in such terrible danger. And now... now had some of the men that had volunteered to help them died in the opening volley? Had she failed to suggest a better option? Had she-

No, no she had to think now. She couldn't let her thoughts get to her!

"Shield wall! Form a shield wall!" cried Fanilly, raising her sword as she did, "Do not let them loose arrows upon the civilians or the injured! Archers, form up and aim into their lines!"

She hoped this would work. She hoped they would be fast enough. For the sake of the civilians, for the sake of everyone here, they had to respond quickly. A cult of barbaric madmen would not be as well-trained as her knights, nor as Ithillin's archers, that much she felt sure of. If they could break the ambush then they could eliminate the forces that had been brought here, as well as keep the civilians safe. Ultimately, however, if they could not destroy the ambush, as long as they could ensure no-one else died at least the girl knight would feel as if they had fulfilled their duty. The safety of the defenseless came above all else.

Klaus raised her shield as soon as she heard the sharp twang of an drawn bow. She flinched as one of the arrows of the volleys hit her kiteshield with a loud clang. Arrows fired from such heights sure pack a punch ~ Her eye twitched under the sight of a tiny dent on that shield. And like she expects, there are already casualities among their side. "My condolences, please haunt that sham of a giant instead, and let me sleep peacefully~" She muttered with her usual word of sarcasm, petting on her horse Alexander, bracing herself.

We sure did our jobs properly didn't we? Klaus eyes darkened at the thoughts of those incompetent nobles sitting in the safety of their castle. With one grasp of the rein, she sent her horse charging uphill towards the direction of the enemy archers, sending herself as a detachment from the main force. She held her shield tight against the direction of those cowardy archers. Halfway the charge, she made an abrupt turn to the side, then her horse went galloping around the area between the barbarians and the main force without touching her enemies. Her shield, is of course at all times, facing her enemies.

This act of detachment is not to charge at the archers blindly, as she knew that there would probably be stronger units in the back lines reinforcing them; But to threaten the position of those archers, and to have the arrows fired towards her rather than the main force & the innocent noncombatants. She ensured herself that she is in a distance far enough to have time to react to any countercharges. And with less difference between elevation, the shield & armour would last longer...

Most knights, riding unarmoured and a prime target due to being on horseback, would generally come to resemble a pincushion after receiving a volley of arrows. Lilianna was comparatively fortunate in that there was hardly an overwhelming number of archers, enough that only one arrow was headed for her. Still, unarmoured, this constituted a Very Bad Thing. Until she drew her sword.

Nobody, nobody, who made it into the knights was going to be allowed to go around without a single scrap of protection unless they could prove they earned it. To one who the only martial combat that came naturally was to flow with the blade, there were only two options against something that would normally be absorbed or blocked: dodge or deflect. Being on horseback ruled out the former; in a flash of steel, the incoming danger was sliced down its centre, harmlessly going to either side.

"I told that upstart this would happen," she grumbled, preparing to leap from horseback at a second's notice. In a shieldwall her abilities were useless--she had to wait for an opportunity to close, whichever side took it.

"Hmmm..." 'Sult' stood in a pensive mood, only to shift upon the clingy brat literally murdering her buttocks as she carelessly shoved herself in the conversation. A lively individual. At least this one wasn't a half giant. To 'Sult's' credit though, she kept a smiling face through the entire ordeal. "Just don't be naughty." she conceded. There was no easy way out of this situation was she?

She eyed at the half giantess. "Well, the Ravens... eh, they've come from well, a lot of places. There's a couple of woodsman who have an adoptive half-sister half-giantess... who's a frill and pink maniac. She means well, but she... isn't the most brilliant mind of all times. You're much better off not resembling her in that particular regard. And there's the current captain who's...well, someone not worth mentioning." She briefly described, as she watched the girl-tick keep digging into her back.

"Oh, Indrau... He's a little grumpy. You know, veterans. Just take his letters with a pinch of salt. He's probably venting. We're quite the diverse bunch." 'Sult answered'.

And then arrows rained. The fake priestess wasted no time in shoving the little girl into cover and shielding her with her body, as she glared everywhere in an effort to see the attackers. It was much more worrysome the eerie sensation that she had felt. Some kind of magic? She thought as she did her best to avoid the commoners panicking and take cover. She regretted not having her shield at hand right now, but she was undercover for a reason.

Meanwhile, 'Nero' clicked her tongue, upon noticing roughly the same. Her eyes peered into the volley of arrows, as she hastily moved to avoid being hit. She eyed the civilians, and then her gaze met with that of her sister. "Sult! Quickly, let's do the new chant!" She hollered.

Sult clicked her tongue. Truely, the chant was in the books, and they had never attempted before. It was also a wide area. They needed to coordinate perfectly. "...Reon...Alright.!" She added as both started to gather their power.

"Let thy light of justice shine upon those weak and maimed. Let thy grace dispell the miasma of corruption. In thy name, we implore, shine upon us the ligh of PURIFICATION!" Both said in unison. If they had done their homework correctly, a light would bathe the battlefield, hopefully dispelling the murky feeling that they had been beset with.

The hopelessly paranoid knight was in motion before the first flight of arrows had reached the formation. His bad leg was already slipped from the stirrup and he, somewhat less skillfully than he might have hoped, rolled from the saddle to land on the ground in a half crouch. He drew his blade and cast about with his eyes. Some feeling or premonition had set his nerves on edge.

The strange weight in his sword, was it a trick of his mind and the tiresome days on the road or something else.

A heartbeat later his horse screamed in pain and bolted, leaving him open. Indrau swore and made for the safety of his fellow knights.




"I'm sure he does a lot of venting, lest he explode."

Suddenly they were under attack. Salz pivoted on the spot, thrusting her burden of children between herself and the wagon. Such a large target couldn't possible come through a volley unscathed however. As a couple bounced harmlessly off of her armour a single one pierced the chain over her shoulder. With a vicious snarl she snapped the shaft near the head between two fingers and reached up into the wagon for her spear, her own height worth of oak as large around as a mans wrist and topped with a slender leaf shaped head as long as her hand.

"Get under the wagon and stay there."

Now she pulled off the heavy canvas cover and used it to cover at least one side of the wagon. Spear in hand she stood over the Sunfield twins.

The air around the caravan shimmers with divine light for a moment, a feeling of ease and protection falling over those within the spells effect. A woop echoes from high in the canyon, shrill and far to guttural to be human. High in the canyon, an outcropping of stones let loose another volley, and the roses summarily return fire, though few find their home in targets as they fought against gravity.

Twenty some men and women, clad in ramshackle armor, seem to ooze out from between the canyon walls. The singular woop evolves into a chorus of hollers,the clanging of weapons on stone, and the ding of arrows as volleys bounce against the shieldwall. The ease that the light had brought moments before is quickly swallowed and the light dies, the feeling of dread returning, though now pressing itself into the back of ones skull (as though it was offended you even tried to rid yourself of it in the first place).

The ambushers slide along the canyon walls towards the shield wall, advancing on the caravan from above with unnatural grace. A few stop, either to join their voices in the disturbing chorus or to shout incoherent challenges at their prey or to swat away stray shots from the roses archers. A few arrows strike true, but it seems to only amuse the assailants.

Indrau and the men nearest him are the first to make contact, the ambushers sliding (or in a few cases, haphazardly tumbling without a care) down the canyon wall to meet them. Some brush past them, rushing to make passing jabs at the shield wall. A dark haired man rushes Indrau, intent on bringing his spear head down on the elderly lion.

"And there they are ~" Klaus gazed at the cavalry charge as she veered her horse away, with the intention of baiting them into an unfavourable position. They aren't targetting her, sadly for Klaus. With her shield facing against the arrow volleys, she looked to see the cavalry charging to the shield wall below. Now that Klaus is being untouched, she was left with a good height advantage against the enemy cavalry.

"And there, is the safest place in the battlefield." Without hesitation, Klaus sent her horse charging down at the horsemen who were engaging Indrau's men, thrusting her sword towards the first one she made contact with. A downhill cavalry charge with a full thrusting stab... Nothing short of Reon's armor or an armour made of Angrogon shards would withstand such impact~ She smirked, and at the same time, she eyed at the enemies she'd engaged from the back carefully, her role is to ease the attack and buy time on the shield wall by making 'light skirmishes', the moment they have their full attention on her, she will have to back off due to her numerical disadvantage.

Maybe fifty at the most. What sort of overconfident idiots were they? Even if they stayed put and harassed from afar, there simply weren't enough enemies to take on the Knights... regardless of seeming so high on adrenaline that arrows weren't slowing them down. Sword readied, the fencer stood behind the wall of shields, prepared to cripple any that made it past--the lack of armour was strongly in her favour. So what did it matter if you could ignore pain a bit? You would still fall over and be stabbed to death when the tendons in your ankles were severed.

Damn this leg. Hearing the whooping war cry, he turned to place his back to the shield wall he had been unable to reach in time. For a heartbeat he stood firm in the face of the attacks until confronted by an attacker intent upon him.

Indrau raised his sword to guard and then stepped further in with his good leg, closing the distance and deflecting the blow with one of his vambraces before striking out and severing one of the mans hands at the wrist.




Salz let out a bellowing war cry and charged into the approaching enemies swinging a spear a third again her own height. The bronze sheathed haft was swung like a quarterstaff, knocking men to the ground and breaking limbs.

She let out another bellow and picked up a fallen, human scaled spear. With a couple of steps and a grunt of effort she threw and pinned an unlucky attacker to the canyon wall.

What was with these madmen? They ignored arrows piercing their bodies? Were they so filled with adrenaline that even the impact of an arrow was ignored? Surely those who were struck by such a thing would likely die, given their armor seemed completely ineffective at defending them... Regardless of what the case was, Fanilly lowered herself against her horse. She had no shield. As Captain of the Iron Roses, her next duty was to kill or drive the attackers, prevent them from hurting anyone else.. Shouting to the archers for them to keep firing, to take out as many of the enemies as they could, Fanilly swiftly sprang from her white mare.

She feared she would only kill the poor horse if she attempted to charge her into battle. She was not a mounted combatant, her training had been in fighting on-foot. Indeed, moments after Fanilly left her mare, she was charged by a crazed man with an arrow protruding from one limp arm. Didn't they feel pain?! He swung his sword at her, and she swiftly locked the blade into her parrying dagger and thrust her sword through his chest, burying it to the hilt in his body and then drawing it out just as swiftly. With a gurgle he collapsed. At the very least, she knew what would stop them...

Almost immediately another man was upon her, forcing her to back up and avoid the swing of his heavy axe. The head buried itself in the ground and almost as swiftly as he had approached, the blonde girl stepped inwards and put her sword clear through his heart. Her armor's alloy allowed her to move swiftly, almost completely unencumbered, and these cultists simply were not as swift on their feet. However, they were relentless, it seemed as if nothing would stop them but death.

@noodles
There is a sharp cry from the front lines as Klaus' sword pierces through one of the bandits chest. She look at Klaus for a moment, her confusion mirrored on the faces of the two other men flanking her. She drops like a dead weight, sinking to the ground as men, in chaotic unison, swing wildly at the girl.

@Raineh Daze
The shieldwall seems to hold, albiet barely. What these men lack in precision in their swings, they seem to make up for in unrivaled fervor. A pair of large woman bare down on the shield wall eyes bloodshot with maddness, towing with them equally immense mauls. They slam into a lone knight on the shieldwall, the sound of bone and steel crumpling ringing staccato in the chorus of guttural woops. The duo rush through, leaving the gap to be further expanded by their companions as they rush the small silver haired woman, heedless of the waiting blade.

@TheFake
Indrau
The man recoils, hissing loudly through his teeth as his now severed hand flops to the ground, glaring daggers at Indrau. He takes a few experimental swipes at the elderly man testing his guard, seemingly only minor inconvenienced by his sudden asymmetry. The man wheels suddenly, the pummel of the spear slamming into the side of the elderly lion's knee, the man quickly jerking back to prepare for a finishing stab.

Salz
The spear strikes true, stapling the crazed man to the canyon wall. He screams obscenities about the spears mother and her relationship with live stock. That said, he was doing moderately better than the men currently with in arms reach of the giant, caught in a semi-permanent limbo of being thrown to the ground by the spear and raising again, only freed by a merciful albiet occasional, stab from knights passerby. There is the twang of steel once more as arrows whiz by the giant woman, the archers evidentally deciding her to be a fine target.

All power and no finesse, combined with suicidal recklessness? Were this a duel, it would be criminal to not call it off after inflicting a minor scratch to bruise her opponent's ego. Yet a duel was not the same as a battlefield and no such mercy could be spared for her foes. The first to get in range found their clumsy attempt at a strike going wide and her legs collapsing beneath; Lilianna's first strikes had severed tendons and left her ultimately harmless for other knights in the back lines to finish off at their leisure.

The second fighter could be considered to have a better time of it--if only because Lilianna wasn't ready with an incapacitating blow handy and staying to pick a target within range of massive hammers would be a one-way trip to the morgue. Of course, simply bleeding an opponent dry through dashing in to inflict minor cut after minor cut should eventually wear the enemy down... but even simple adrenaline meant that her injuries seemed to do nothing.

The fencer simply went for a more economical approach, using footwork to draw the heedless enemy back into the ranks--and letting numerous blows from behind deal with the matter. Honestly, attacking the Knights without a numerical advantage?

---

Walking for days without rest was a good way to travel, faster even than by horse and certainly faster than a group that needed to bring supplies for the journey along with them. It gave all the time in the world to hunt down cultists as they rested, to follow any caught out but nevertheless taking the wise idea to run--and to find out that there were others here, doing the same thing even before the Iron Roses had been drafted into the plans of nobility. At least it would mean a swift conclusion to the hunt, once the last remnants were defeated.

So it was that those looking up might notice a figure moving behind the archers, caked in shining red and dry brown. Syrupy liquid slithered down from a raised sword--and all raising one question: where had all the blood come from? An answer that came with a wordless roar, the massive sword swinging down through a defenceless cultist like paper, the paladin stepping forward into the spray before they had even fallen and smashing her shield against another to send her tumbling down into the canyon below.

The ambushers, themselves, had been caught from behind and were now doomed to be ground to dust below whilst those unprepared for a sudden melee got to be lambs to the slaughter.