[center][h3][color=C0392B]Rudolf Shilage[/color][/h3][/center]

[color=c0392b]"Thanks, Goug. Stay safe, Goug.”[/color]

Freshly-set rime crunched beneath Rudolf's sabatons as he set off after Izayoi in short order, a blur of black and red against the pale, sinking cold of what might have been the golden hour, a few dozen leagues north. While it was a welcome change of pace that Kayliss's word was reliable enough to see them ushered through the border without undue hassle, he didn't have it in himself to be terribly surprised that their good fortune was limited to just this one stroke— his personal situation notwithstanding, they just never seemed to stray too far from trouble for very long. The nature of the beast, one could reason.

His eyes cast themselves onto the field, past the fleeing townsfolk and into the waves of blightbeasts ahead. The local militia had done a good enough job in staving the assault off that the noncombatants seemed to have gotten good distance between themselves and danger, but sure enough, his soldier's eye could see the seams beginning to fray in their ranks. They were spread too thin, even with most of the enemy ingress funneled down to the eastern and southern gates, and their discipline was wavering. One or two more surges would be all it took for them to melt to a rout. He could see it, he realized— He could see where he would tug at those threads to let them unravel. If he kept them split between these two fronts, they'd shake themselves apart as their attention kept needing to oscillate, their stress mounting against the harrowing numbers.

[color=ff8c00][i]"I see the apple doesn't fall too far from the tree."[/i][/color]

He slammed the visor of his greathelm down and drew the bone-hilted knife from his belt, clicking his tongue as he slashed through the throat of a stray corrupted elk that had slipped through the gaps. Drawing up to the melee proper, only a few dozen strides away, he twisted his trunk to look over his shoulder and hollered, catching the eyes of the two natives most pointedly.

[color=c0392b]"The two of us can hold the eastern gateway! Eliane, Esben, can you rally the bulk of them south!? They'll listen to you a lot sooner than us!"[/color]

Amazingly, he almost found himself wishing for harsher conditions— if the landscape or rooftops had heavy enough snowfall to leave them with large drifts, they could likely have shored up some quick and dirty canalization by way of their magic on hand— chiefly, his gravity materia could have played a fair role in bringing those mounds of snow and ice down into the pathways the Skaeller Militia were trying to keep filled with something sharp.

Even if it wouldn't have cut things off, it would have helped to funnel those numbers down into something the pikemen at the eastern road could manage much more readily. If only.

His free hand reached into a pouch, and palmed the lone materia within. In lieu of using heavy snow as a barrier, he'd have to resort to an old standby—

The nearest blightbeasts to the eastern pikemen's lines stopped dead, as a field of purple sparks danced around their newly-leaden feet, suddenly themselves cutting off those surging behind them— and leaving them easy pickings for Izayoi. Rudolf stalked forward, drawing alongside the militiamen in this brief reprieve.

[color=c0392b]"My friend and I can handle this flank— There's a Commander of the Household Guard just behind us. Please follow her instructions."[/color]

In time with his clipped, hard-edged command, he drew the cursed blade from his back, all six feet of it— with that moment bought and new direction given, all that was left to do now was take up as much of this space as possible until the bests broke themselves against the wall. Few tools served this better than greatswords of this ilk, with their wide arcs of destruction— and in needing to bring this thing up to that standard...

He stepped forth—

[i][color=c0392b]Up and at 'em.[/color][sup]1[/sup] 

And here I was thinking you'd save up a little, after our big come-to-Etro moment. But don't let me stop you, gift birds don't get looked in the beak where we're from.[/i]

— And a familiar pillar of black fire wreathed his blade, as his feet dug into the frost before he leapt into a lunging, full-bodied swing, a pouncing sabertooth set to rip through as many of the corrupted beasts as it could.

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[*][sub]1. I can hear the subconscious thoughts too, you know. That part where you think you're telling me to "quit brooding" is convincing me I should let the next cardiac arrest, major organ failure, or whole tendon separation ride— beat whatever shame you've been convinced to lose back into you.[/sub]
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