[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/ay3GBDR.png[/img][/center]
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[center][h2]Tales of Heroes - The Weasel and The Kitten[/h2]
Battlefield at the foot of Mount Errant[/center]
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[center][sup]INTERACTING: Queen Eleanor [@Force and Fury] Maerec [@Dao Ma], Caelum [@RezonanceV], Camille [@Pirouette], Arsene [@Th3King0fChaos], Hildr [@jasbraq], Robért Bobignon [@Suicharte][/sup]
[sup]EVENT: Fields of Fire || LOCATION: Fields around Mount Errant[/sup][/center][hr][hr]

[center][youtube]https://youtu.be/dxVIXOdlCBU[/youtube][/center]

[color=#BBA14F]“Aller, prends-ça! (C’mon, take that!)”[/color]

Many wondered what Percival de Perpignan could truly do. Some speculated him to be the strongest man in Parrence, others called him out as a farce. Today he would display the extent of his skill. The Gehenna-class Monsigneus dragon had been left massively disoriented by a pinpoint essence strike from the noble pretty-boy, allowing for others like Maerec to gain ground in subduing the beast and offering a head start to the team, [color=#BBA14F]“Ne me décevez pas! (Don’t disappoint me!)”[/color] he called out to his troops, many of which died by the dozens, with only the more remarkable mages pulling through.

Percy’s long, blonde hair blew in the searing hot winds ushered in by the fiery breath of the dragon. It engulfed so much and killed so many. The slippery nature of the Stink Knight had saved him from the worst with little more than scrapes on his armour, and he even caved in to help Arsene in a time of need. The act of goodness to his fellow man had the universe give him the protection of his sister when the slime that had gotten him through the worst had run dry from the flames, [color=#BBA14F]“You did not need to do that, Eleanor!”[/color] he complains with an indignant look to his charcoal-stained face. The fight wasn’t over - Far from it, and their best troops were starting to fall.

It looked bad. The Queen’s defence was beginning to falter and mere men could hardly keep up with a force of nature. Even Percy in his delusions of grandeur began to admit to himself that this was potentially even beyond him. As things were getting worse, observant Thunder mages could begin to feel growing electrical tension in the air. Something was coming. Up above! A glimmer of golden light sparked above the thrashing Tyrannus and descended down upon it just as Maerec had been kicked off again. With a thunderous roar, it looked as though the very heavens had sent a yellow bolt of lightning as punishment to the Gehenna specifically. The creature was temporarily on the ground with electricity running through it, but the scales had clearly softened most of the impact.

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

A short, armoured Knight emerged from the intense smoke brought by the skyborn strike riding a comically large horse for their size that was also stacked with mail and armour. They bore a big shield on their left arm, and a spear on the other, the latter of which they would peer toward with a mere incline of their heavy helm, [color=98A4B1]“Big and resilient.”[/color] they remarked in a metallic and deep voice, although not deep enough to make the sex behind the veil evident. The spear had been slightly bent and chipped from the strike which kept Sasha fixated for a moment whilst the beast rose back up and continued its onslaught.

Despite its growing aggression, its wounds were getting to it with Maerec de Solennes gaining significant ground on the beast. But as it stood, if they didn’t finish this quickly, the Parrench army was as good as dead even with the small reinforcements. Sasha intervened to save the one known as Caelum, hurling their spear toward the ground by the decommissioned paladin, prompting magnetic and blood magics to merge together and form a barrier to save him. Only a little more. Without a spear, Sasha could only help through Essence. And with just that, it would be enough to pacify the beast after a final, decisive strike from Hildr the Red to the dragon’s maw, giving a brief window of vulnerability for the squad to finish this.

What came after was the realisation of many that they had lost an obscene amount of manpower to stop this thing. There had to be a way to make up for it. The decision to tame the beast was made, with Maerec at the forefront. The survivors helped the best they could, with Camille, Sasha and Eleanor performing the final push to finally tame the beast, and Percy keeping a considerable chemical hold on it. The Gehenna was as tamed as a wild beast could be with Maerec as the one it recognised as the dominant human worthy of its respect. Still, that didn’t prevent Percy from indulging.

[color=#BBA14F]“Haha! A worthy steed for a dragon slayer such as Percival Perpignan!”[/color] Percy exclaimed as he hovered to the back of the beast with no resistance coming from it. After all, he had asserted himself very early on as a threat. Hildr had also earned particular recognition with her ballsy strike at the climax of the battle. The others, well, they had spoils to veer their attention toward. Sasha, without any hesitation or tact, immediately power walked in very loud metallic clangs toward one of the three eggs found in the dragon’s lair. They pocketed one, stared back at the group of men and women that had survived, and just returned among the group as if everything was normal. The same disconnect from others was noticeable when they just pulled the strange rod among the piles of treasure via magnetism before any sort of fair distribution could be made. It resonated well with their manas. They were going to keep it.

[color=98A4B1]“Where is Asier?”[/color] the Kitten Knight, having the initial goal to find the King at Chamonix but got side-tracked by the dragon, addressed the question toward the most important person in the room: Eleanor. No introductions. No formalities. Just a loud, demanding voice. [color=#BBA14F]“How dare you, Tourrare!”[/color] Percival waved his rightfully acquired Scales of Dami to the horse rider whom he recognised the sigil of, [color=#BBA14F]“You are speaking to a Queen. Show proper respect, child.”[/color]

[color=98A4B1]“Okay.”[/color] Sasha made a stiff turn toward Percy before they replied, and then turned back to Eleanor with the same, stiff awkwardness, [color=98A4B1]“Where is Asier, Miss Queen?”[/color]

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[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/lW4Q3DF.png[/img][/center]
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[center][h2]For the King - Thunderous Roar[/h2][/center]
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[center][sup]INTERACTING: Ulfhild [@Salsa Verde], Sweyn [@Force and Fury], Rolfe Bobignon [@Suicharte], Arcel[/sup]
[sup]EVENT: Fields of Fire || LOCATION: The Plains near Chamonix[/sup][/center][hr][hr]

The Rearguard intercepts Hrothgar’s scouts, spearheaded by Ulfhild the Resilient, with Arnaud stepping up as the immovable wall of King Arcel. The clash is fierce, many of the executioner’s men die to repulse Ulfhild’s own. Ultimately, the seasoned ranger could barely even scratch the hulking man that is Arnaud. Slowly but sure, he gains the upper hand with indiscriminate and unrestrained force. Eventually, Ulfhild is brought to a knee and stares up at her inevitable fate. The axe is just above her with the shadow of Ahn-Eshiran herself cast upon her. But before the finishing blow could be dealt and Eleanor’s mistake rectified, a surge of lightning descends upon both as a form of divine intervention. A heavenly strike that came simultaneous to the one that befell the dragon many miles away.

Ulfhild is still hurt with a deep, bleeding wound on her chest, but it is neither fatal nor enough to subdue her. She is hanging by a string. And Sweyn Thunderspear entered the battle with Arnaud left to defend against the monster on his own. [color=fff79a]"I would say you had best retreat, big man,"[/color] warns the eminent sorcerer, [color=fff79a]"but it would do you no good. This is where your story ends."[/color]

Arnaud snarls at the thunder wizard that interrupted his coup de grace. He doesn't move from his spot and stares down the much more powerful man straight in the eyes, [color=7F4C20]"Le bras droit de Hrothgar arrive. (The Right hand of Hrothgar arrives.)"[/color] he bellowed  as he stomped the pommel of his weapon onto the ground, causing the thick, red ichor on his axe's blade to drip down faster, [color=7F4C20]"I have taken two of your elites already. Your words mean nothing, Thunderspear! You cannot stop me."[/color]

With malicious essence magic, Ulfhild is kept from healing for the time being and the two powerful men are left to clash one on one. Sweyn, with his immense power and speed, accomplishes what Ulfhild could not during the entire fight: Heavily wound Arnaud. And with a single arcane spear to the shoulder. Still, the Aheri doesn’t falter, but it allows for the ranger to recover without any hindrance. 

[color=fff79a]"If you run now, to your pretty little king, I may let you live,"[/color] Sweyn taunted, rising from the ground, arms crossed. The Aheri does not listen, and instead seeks to bury both of them with a powerful earthquake. An attack that both of them easily avoid, as Arnaud feels himself tired after the fiery impalement. [color=fff79a]"If you will not accept my mercy,"[/color] Sweyn roars, [color=fff79a]"then you will die for your pride!"[/color] Eyes blazing with magical energies, he picks up the massive figure of Arnaud like a child's plaything and makes a squeezing gesture. Armour begins to crumple. Bones begin to snap. The agony is unbearable. A breath of fresh air entered her lungs. The pain was gone for the most part, still a bit delirious from the bludgeon. Thunderspear had bought her enough time to regain her composure and once again enter the fray. Seeing the Parrench soldier being squeezed like fresh citrus, bought her some joy. She unsheathed her sword and ran towards Arnaud hoping to deliver the finishing blow in the art of a skewer.

Ulfhild's strike is swift and sure. She dodges the roguish Rolfe Bobignon that had come to Arnaud’s rescue who emerges from the shadows and slices down towards Arnaud. By all rights, he should die. Then, her blade is yanked from her hand with incredible force and driven into the muddy ground a handful of yards away. Sweyn casts about immediately for another intruder, as does she, but none is to be found. It is as if the gods themselves have spared this man after having appeared to have condemned him.

He is ready to die. His duty is fulfilled. The Thunderspear is kept at bay, hopefully long enough for Parrench to regain an upper hand. But as the end was nigh, an inexplicable intervention stops this unceremonious conclusion. Arnaud chuckles at this turn of events. It wasn't the Gods that intervened. Or perhaps it was a God. Battered and weakened, he is on one knee and still facing down his enemies, [color=7F4C20]"You will lose this war, Thunderspear. With or without me, Arcel will be victorious."[/color] he states with his strong accent, before ripping off the remainder of his armour and clothing on his torso, [color=7F4C20]"Show me what you've got, little man."[/color] Rolfe de Bobignon rushes over to Arnaud after witnessing the miracle, and attempts to bind his broken bones back together. [b]"Hold on, Ser! Je suis avec vous!"[/b]

Rolfe is severely burned by Ulfhild’s lava strike from below, nearly knocking him out. Arnaud roars in fury. Steam erupts from his being as he stares down the vastly more powerful side. There is little chance of him surviving, but upon seeing Bobignon being pushed to near death already for simply saving him, the Aheri removes all his restraints, [color=7F4C20]"Now I fight as the Zuyr Aheri, Arun!"[/color] he growled, his axe tossed aside like it was disposable trash. No armour, no weapon, just his bare hands and incredible speed. He goes to finish what he started with Ulfhild, attempting to seize her with his bare hands.

[center][youtube]https://youtu.be/anhtPK_DCko[/youtube][/center]

Rolfe relegates himself to distracting Sweyn, while Arun goes to finish the job. With no armour and no weapon, he uses his hands to slash and smash through everything sent his way while taking any beating needed. Eventually, he does seize the battered woman and smashes her to the ground, readying her for a proper execution. There is no avoiding fate this time, and Ulfhild’s growingly notorious resilience could only go so far. As Arnaud readies his fist to obliterate the ranger’s chest and finish her, Sweyn comes to the rescue once more. His unfathomably massive power on full display.

The moment that he sees Arnaud pummel Ulfhild, Sweyn does not speak. He acts. Prizing her roughly from the giant's grasp, he sets her down on the round before bringing his hands together in front of himself. Seizing the man's arms and legs separately, the Thunderspear hoists him up into the air with naught but a gesture. Considerable strength: that is what the executioner fights his own execution with. It was this man who killed Olaf. It will be the old druid's former pupil who avenges him. Arnaud may be strong, but he is a bucket compared to an ocean when weighed against Sweyn. The sorcerer separates his hands and then it is Arnaud himself who separates. Ligaments and tendons rip and give way. Flesh pulls apart. Eyes bulge and blood gushes. 

There is no smile on Sweyn's face, only a grim sort of satisfaction. The Aeresvaktr protect their own. His eyes bore into his victim as he stands there unflinching. Unflinching.... unmoving.

In fact, nothing is moving. The world goes still. Nobody and nothing budges.

For a moment, the only thing that moves it Sweyn's eyes. They narrow and he begins to strain. Another massive power starts to pull against his. Slowly, slowly, and then a little bit faster, the gaps between the five separate pieces of the king's executioner pull themselves back together. The figures in the background reset to earlier positions. Sweyn lets go and Arnaud, wounded but very much in one piece, collapses to the ground. The Eskandr's face looks panicked and he wastes no time lashing out with a colossal thunderbolt the very moment that swirling tear in the fabric of reality opens beside him. His target is none other than Arcel, King of the Parrench.

For all of the power in the bolt, it is absorbed and dissipated effortlessly by Arcel. [color=00aeef]"I will give you one chance: accept my mercy and leave this field to us now, or you will die here, Sweyn Thunderspear, butcher of Relouse."[/color]

Again, he was about to die, and this time in a fashion befitting an executioner and not a warrior. Arnaud was ready to let go, his body barely resisting the unfathomably powerful grip Sweyn had on him. As tough as he was, he screamed in pain from the tearing, but he kept an adamant glare on Sweyn.

Then, it all was undone. Somewhat. Arnaud was in terrible shape, but could still move with his whole body. His heart was killing him, very much tachycardic, but that wasn't going to stop this man, especially after being saved by his lord. Wordlessly, he stood by his king.

[color=00aeef]"Arnaud, good and faithful ally, you have more than done your duty,"[/color] said the king. [color=00aeef]"But you are of no use to me dead or crippled. Take Sir Rolfe are join our army, posthaste. II trust a man of your caliber can still move. Alert them to this Eskandr trickery and send riders ahead to the city!"[/color]

Arnaud flinches, but then nods, [color=7F4C20]"A vos ordres, votre majesté. (As you command, your Majesty.)"[/color] he wasted no time and Force-hopped to his destination with Bobignon carried along. His heart was about ready to let go, but he was going to at least complete this final order.

[color=fff79a]"Ulfhild!"[/color] called Sweyn. [color=fff79a]"Go join the Nashorn! I will hold this.... demon off for as long as I can. Bring our troops up. Send riders around to our King's force and we shall have him caught between us!"[/color]

[color=00aeef]"My turn,"[/color] growled Arcel.

There was a blip: a moment when reality wavered. Nobody was quite certain what happened during it, but the two men stood there, locked in some sort of duel that nobody else could see, as other battles were fought and other people ran to prepare for something that this small action today was merely the harbinger of.