[color=f7941d][b]ASTER NOLS[/b][/color] - Harrow's Keep[hr]
[color=f7941d]“Back. Back off, [i]now![/i]”[/color]

Cordoning off the Keep on both the North and South entrances had been a near impossible task. Thank the Goddess she remembered to take along her House crest, and that there were sensible people willing to take her advice and NOT jump into the hole of destruction. A few of the burlier ones sent to the other side and form a barrier had been enough. 

Her luck held out and the stolen town was returned.

Not without its own flavor of terror though. Aster wasn’t fortunate enough to be looking away this time, she and Keater both getting blasted away from the crater. 

[color=f7941d]“[i]Stongeing…![/i]”[/color] she gasped.

Bright spots seared into the darkness of her vision. She felt the ground blindly, then rubbed at her useless eyes as she heard the unmistakable sound of… buildings. Human cries and crashing debris. Some of it was around her but most was in the direction of the former crater. She felt herself shake in relief.

[color=f7941d]“Keater, baby,”[/color] she called hoarsely, [color=f7941d]“Get yer ass up, c’mon.”[/color]

People were streaming into the town and there was no point in even trying to stop them now, not in this state with the world still blurred and fuzzy. She needed to be there too. The reins snapped and Keater burst forward. He’d avoid what needed to be avoided. Human cries and crashing debris. Corpses. Ruins. The ambient scent of fruit and grilled meat was near gone, murky with the cloying stench of something she had only a cursory relationship with. It reminded her of the pit behind the abattoir. 

By the tomes, she needed to puke. What the hell was this?

Keater slowed to a stop for her to catch her breath. On the ground, disaster. The skies were the same, save for a single distinctive form. A stark white wyvern. Aelious. By the tomes, he’d made it. He had his own destination by the looks of it, and as much as Aster needed a familiar face right now, they weren’t going to be speaking anytime soon.

She lifted a fist and shouted a piercing [color=f7941d]“Cooee!”[/color]

A traditional cry originating in the deep South, used by old travelers to attract attention from sometimes kilometres away in good locations. There was no guarantee that he’d recognize it, or even hear it, but it felt right to offer something in the moment. Before she headed into the heart of the chaos.

Most of the tower guards were dead or incapacitated, those still able to operate persuaded with a flash of her crest as she rode Keater right into the Great Hall. There was a heaviness in there. Only a few individuals, functioning ones anyway, remained. A white-haired young man. Aureolin. A blonde child. Older than Carrey. Ruel Immolis.

On the floor, a large man in an infamous set of armor, wading in a pool of his own blood. Aster turned away quickly. No, nonono, stop. Just focus on her job. Just one thing. The continent-wide implications of that blood were too much of a distraction.

[color=f7941d]“I’m sorry,”[/color] she murmured to the surviving lords, unsure of what she was apologizing for. [color=f7941d]“Keater, watch 'em.”[/color]

He responded with a snort of the nostrils and turned his incredulous gaze to the boy. Aster set off to the easiest place to climb, shouting Esmerelda’s name as loudly as she could.