[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/Qvm9ihS.png[/img][/center]

It was a regular old party now, wasn't it? A party of the hella violent, generally murderous, and sorta overwhelming part. With the strength of his sheer brawn, the lizardman continued to mow through groups of soldiers at once, flinging them around like a petulant child with a house of dolls. Serafaye looked to be encouraged by this as well, utilizing her even [i]more[/i] impossible strength to flatout toss them at each other like bowling balls. Gratuitious violence all around, truly. The spellblade gave a backwards glance at Locke and Arte, an uncertain smile budding over her features. The developments that have passed...hm.

Better to stop thinking about this!

Deciding rather arbitrarily that this is the Final Battle For Their Freedom, Cecilia looked out through Locke's smoke towards the archers still positioned on the wall. If they had been more spread out, that woulda sucked, but considering the position her allies were holding, there wouldn't have been line-of-sight if they hadn't clumped up a bit. Vani made her plenty of projectiles, Yinha summoned something brilliantly horrifying, and Kaze did what he did best, holding the frontline so that Cecilia could retrieve the spearheads that he had shattered off the hafts. She calculated for distance, set the timing in her head, and, planting her spear into the ground, filled her new projectiles with her magic. Lightning crackled over their surfaces and they numbed her fingers as she grabbed them by the tips of the blade.

[color=FFE4E1]"Maybe I should get a bow some time..."[/color] Cecilia murmured.

But maybe she had been solo adventuring so long that she forgot spellblades were more or less expected to fill any role necessary in a composition?

Sighting the archers in the distance, the bladethrower drew her arm back and began to hurl magically-charged projectiles at those misfortunate soldiers, more forcing them to take cover or reposition rather than actually kill or maim them. Each spearhead that missed would curve back, flying into her outstretched palm as Cecilia set a steady rhythm, practically juggling five spearheads into the Imperials on the top of the wall.

[color=FFE4E1]"Locke, when we break out, shift your smoke up onto the wall!"[/color]