Talren Cathos's Story

It had taken the better part of a day for Talren and Jon to reach Academia Celestia, but from there they had been able to access a portal to transport them up to the Patronus temple that Talren called home for the time being. The portal had brought them into the large circular portal chamber at the top of the temple, from which Talren had led Jon down into the main Vestibule.

The large central area of the temple was spacious and brightly lit by numerous tall windows. The room had an almost regal atmosphere, with towering pillars and artfully carved bas reliefs dominating it alongside statues of heroes come and gone. Overhead an indoor balcony ran the length of either side of the hall to overlook those within the vestibule. Numerous people were crossing between parts of the temple, and a few armoured Knights of Le'thorien patrolled the halls.

Talren spread his arms out all-encompassingly, glancing over his shoulder at Jon as they emerged out onto one of the balconies from the stairs that led to the portal chamber. "Well, here we are. Bloody excessive, if you ask me."

Jon had remarkably shaped up, having been drunker than any viking or skunk the night before. The temple was huge, when the elf had said it was a place he resting, he had thought it'd been a smaller place. "It's definitely larger than I thought." The satyr replied, putting his hands on the railing of the balcony and staring out at the expanse in-front of them.

"I don't think I'd go home if this was where I lived, it isn't a tavern, but it's damn close." A temple? Yeah right, it'd be a temple of beer if you gave the satyr enough gold and permission. "Who are the knights? What's the temple worship? Do I need to talk to someone to stay here? I mean, well." Jon grinned and turned to face Talren.

"I don't see ya owning this particular temple, Talren."

"You think not?" Talren remarked with a smirk, "You'd have to be a Light-blinded fool to not see that the pair of us both stick out like sore thumbs here. Damned proper and heroic these bloody bastards are, make us normal folk look bad."

The elf folded his arms. "The knights? They're the Knights of Le'thorien, serve some forest spirit lady or something bloody stupid like that. The day you catch me swearing myself to some bloody spirit or god or anything of the sort is the day the sky itself falls on all our heads. I'm not honestly sure what the temple's meant to worship, I get the impression it's more to commemorate the people rather than the gods."

He gestured at the statues below, "They're all one fool hero or another that got themselves killed doing something glorious, heroic and undoubtedly bloody stupid. And I'm fairly certain anyone who wants can stay so long as there's room in the dormitories, which there'd better bloody be now those damned Aschen have gone. Bloody spacemen."

"You're damn right on that, Talren. Why can't there be a god of alcohol and women that deserve to be bounced on the knee, if you know what I mean. I'd swear my life for that." The satyr laughed loudly, looking the statues up and down with mild interest. "I wouldn't mind a statue of me though, I'd look damn good in stone." The satyr laughed again, smiling.

Jon leaned back on the railing. "I'd rather be alive when I get one though. There's alcohol allowed in this damn place, yes?" The satyr didn't wait for an answer and pulled his cartography kit to the front of his body and opened up the cap to remove a small bottle of brown, yet rich looking whiskey.

"Take this. It's the least I can do for you, Tally." The satyr offered the small bottle to the elf. "You saved my furry ass and got me here."

"Let them try and bloody stop me is all I say to 'alcohol's allowed'," Talren replied, snorting and taking a swig of the whiskey. "Bloody right you are. You owe me a lot more than a swig of whiskey, friend, and don't think I'll bloody forget it." he flashed a smirk and winked.

Joining Jon to lean on the railing, Talren continued to speak as he looked out across the room. "What're you planning to do now, then? Hang around till you reckon things will have died down back in Proxi?"

"That's the plan, in the meantime I'll hang around here and raise a glass to you and me." Jon laughed and snatched the whiskey bottle back to take a swig, then then passed it back. The satyr shrugged and then shook his head.

"Just you here, Talren? Can't be a sneak greensleeves like you just hangs around a place where all the bloody heroes live for no reason, you'd strike me as the type to settle for a tavern, just like me." Jon winked back, closing the cap of his cartographers kit and swinging it back onto his back. "Got somewhere I can dump this damn sword too?"

"Oh I'd much sooner be at a bloody tavern, don't you doubt it." Talren groaned, pushing off from the balcony to start towards a set of stairs leading downwards to the main floor. "Didn't have much bloody choice in the matter, though. Some Light-burned nonsense about fate and the gods and a bloody dragon woman pestering me in my sleep for Light knows how long."

He shook his head, "I don't think I'd have had another full night's sleep in my bloody lifetime if I hadn't given up and come here. Light knows why the fates or the gods thought I would be a good choice for this bloody order of heroes, but there you have it."

Talren gestured around again, "This place is the headquarters for the Patronus. An order of people dedicated to protecting the world... from, well, everything. Anything. Burn me if I know. Far as I can tell we just play hero like a bunch of Light-blinded fools who've spent too long reading bloody story books."

He nodded his head towards a door down on the far side of the hall. "I'll find you a room and you can leave the sword in there."

"You had dreams about a dragon woman. You must be a crazy Light-burned hero yourself!" The satyr taunted, laughing. Jon removed the buckle from his chest and let the sheathed claymore drop into his hands and wrapped the buckling around the sheath and started for the door at the far side of the hall.

"The headquarters of a bunch of heroes and fools, yeah, should be no safer place." Jon commented with a cheeky grin. "You ever meet the dragon woman? Usually when men dream of women, its a sign of romantic endeavor. You got a scaled mistress on the side?" The satyr roared with laughter at Talren's expense.

"Bloody hero."

Talren grimaced, "Shadow take me before I'd consider that," he grumbled, "I prefer my romances to have a face that isn't as liable to bite my head of as it is to smile."

The elf pushed the door into the dormitories open before proceeding inside.

Before she knew it, she felt herself falling. The girl with the red hair was still looking at the sky, but from far up. She twisted her hips, allowing her whole body to turn around so she could face the street.

Her jaw dropped.

She was as high up as the sky scrapers. No! Far higher! But it was not as she had thought it was. There was death and war on Main Street. People pushing back terrible machines. Soldiers. Soldiers? Gunshots. She could hear them even in her fall. She spread her arms and frowned, slowing her momentum, if just barely. She concentrated on the scene before her.

Airheaded would be the proper word, huh? Iso grumbled to herself. She reached for the watch around her wrist, but paused when she felt skin. Her expression became panicked.

Shit! I left it on the counter!

As she swiftly approached the ground, she closed her eyes and flickered out of existence once more. When she flickered back into the world, she was in the middle of the commotion. She whirled around, looking towards the army of...of...

...zombies? Machine zombies?

Her heart raced. She wasn't prepared for this! Not right now! One approached her, and as she whirled around to run she was met with a man holding a gun. Time slowed for all but a second as she saw his finger press down on the trigger. She was gone long before the bullet left the barrel, one moment there, the next moment in a nearby alley, on a fire escape, falling onto her back in an uncoordinated tumble. She curled up, teeth gritting as the air was knocked out of her.

What was I thinking? She got up, pressing her back to the wall. Those blue eyes swept over the chaos of the street once more.

Oh, right. I wasn't.

It might have been chaos on the the blood and bile soaked Main Street of Wing City; and of course all one could hear was the battle that was being waged on the long lane of pavement. Guns firing, people screaming, fires raging, and machines going haywire and don't even think about the smell of the area as the dead lined the ground.

This was most likely hell on earth from anyone point of view, but it was about to get worse with the arrival of ten very large and bright yellow troop transporters. Their giant fifty inch wheels coming to a screeching halt and the back doors flung open with a loud metal thud.

A few waves of people in bright yellow hazmat suits came rushing towards the battle. Guns in tow. And one of those hazmat suited maniacs climbing the top of one of the vehicles and pointing out towards the mob of zomborgs.

"Halt out, Bitches! We got Zombie Ass to kick the Center of Disease Control style!"

On top of the rooftops nearby, several bandits had devised a plan to get the drop on the forces fighting below in the streets. Several of the bloodthirsty criminals occupied several buildings, each of them facing one another. Loading up crudely made crossbows, obviously made from whatever was handy at the time, the various men on the rooftops proceeded to create a small zipline system across the buildings, some of them directing up to the rooftops, others directing into various windows.

Chuckling a bit, one of the many bandits strapped several grenades to a zipline, shoving them on their way, the grenades becoming unattached to the zipline when it was above the center of the street, resulting in several grenades falling to the earth. Once the initial barrage of explosives were dropped, the bandits then strapped themselves to the zipline system, sliding building to building, taking potshots or lobbing grenades at the chaos below, all of them taunting and teasing. "NEVER SHOULDA COME HERE!" a voice with a southern accent might yell, or "I'm gonna blow you into GUM!" another might yell, obviously fearless in their attempts to salvage from the resulting carnage. They came to this planet to get rich, not wuss out, after all...

Paragon leaped out of the way as column of plasma slammed into the street, his jump carrying him hundreds of feet into the air, propelling him high above the city. He looked down at the now-scorched pavement, scouring the area for any signs of the cursed wolf...

From his bird's eye view over the city, Paragon could see neither the werewolf nor the remains of any Terran citizens left in the carnage of the Aschen assault. Despite their glitzy entrance, they had been careful, which is was more then could be said for some of these crazy 'defense' forces. Still, it looked as if the tides were being stemmed. Heroes and soldiers flooded in from every direction, defending their homes and families with their powers, weapons, magics or plain old human courage. It looked as if there weren't many zomborgs left 'alive' on Main Street. Victory seemed imminent for the forces of order on Terra.

With the werewolf out of his hands, Paragon threw back his hands, gliding through the sky on the ends of his cloak. He veered left, resolving to follow through on his earlier lead and find the source of these monstrosities... though he curiously descended near the building that the three armed soldiers had entered not a few moments earlier.

The cybernetic drones kept coming, even if they were in smaller numbers. In reality their numbers hadn't decreased, they had just scattered. Main Street was just one area that these enhanced corpses were. They were in alleys, in buildings, on Sol Avenue, in the slums, the woods.

Victory wasn't imminent at all. The false hope that the dwindling numbers on Main Street itself was going to be ruined sooner or later by the revelation that all these people had did was secure part of one street in a big city on a big planet.

It wasn't time to pat themselves on the back, it was time to step up their game if they wanted to clean house and rid their planet of these scientifically abused monstrosities.

General Allen walked away from the Scene with X279 Leaving Zeban to handle that mess. He knew this was only a partial victory in their hands. Something nagged him that this was only the beginning. The source of this madness still needed to be found but it seemed to him this needed to be contained. Soon he found the NPA and Terran small command post on the street and walked up.

"My name is General Allen With the Sullen Enterprise Corporation I wish to speak with whom ever is leading the Terran operations." He said loud enough to stop the chattering of Terrans.

----------------------
Meanwhile X279 was cowering in a corner a scared look on his face facing three massive rifles of SEC marines and a demon. Zeban still in demon form chuckled.

"Boy your fun is finished here. It's high time you returned home, But see you destroyed our newest product and Mr. Sullen isn't going to like that. So here's the deal, I can tell some how you have realized your potential. Fight these things and let us show case it or maybe I'll just kill you hear you've cause so much damage already..." He said before he sensed a being behind one of the Armored Marines. Zeban spun around turning to face Shiro Ki.

"This is none of your business!" He said in a dark voice. X279 looked up at the man almost pleading for assistance.

As the Patronus assembled on the wall to join the other defenders of Windcrest, one amongst them turned her attention to what seemed to be the root of the problem. Stepping forwards to Rynhart's side, the pale and slightly luminescent Aiedai gestured out towards the far side of the bridge where the portal through which the hollows were emerging lay.

"We can see the tear between this realm and theirs," she said, "We will work to end it. It is within our power. We will require protection from interruption while we work."

Rynhart only nodded briefly in response, trusting in the woman to be capable of fullfilling such a task. He turned his attention to the ground fighting below, but the horde of Hollow appeared to be thinning, and it would seem that the situation was well in hand.

Aiedai took a breath and allowed her consciousness to slip away from her immediate surroundings, focusing on reaching out to the portal. The star spirits within her reached with her, and with their power she was able to grasp at it. Slowly, threads of silvery light began to draw shut the tear between the realms, weaving in elegant criss-crossing patterns.

It would take time to shut fully, but already the hollows that made it past Achaeos would find the border between their home and Windcrest to be more difficult to cross. In the meantime, Aiedai remained still, eyes whited out with an ethereal glow and unaware of anything going on around her.

Off to the side, leaning on the battlements, Talren peered down into the mess of fighting. The elf wore a slightly bored expression on his face, and though his bow was held in his grip he didn't show any interest in actually firing it. "I should've just stayed back at the temple and finished my bloody card game," he remarked, "Who attacks the bloody fortress city where all the heroes hang out?" he rolled his eyes and snorted. "Well, apparently everyone. All the time. Surely there must be a village they can pillage more conveniently..."

"It would not serve to grow lax in vigil," Rynhart replied. There was a certain lack of sincerity to his words though, and even Rynhart seemed to find these matters little more than an inconvenience. "The field experience is good for the less experienced of the order."

"You could probably start just skipping drills altogether. One of these days you'll start running drills and by the time you're done there'll already be an actual attack going on." Talren said, flicking a pebble off of the edge of the wall down into the trench surrounding the city. "Either that or you should start running drills for the eventuality that we go a week without being attacked. I'm not sure any of us know what we'd do in that circumstance."

Rynhart couldn't help the low chuckle that Talren's words drew out of the normally pensive swordsmaster.

The large Gillian class Hollows proved to be no match for those who rallied to defend Windcrest; what with their slowness and low intellect. Soon they fell one by one, the immense size threatening to crush guardsmen and Hollow alike. All that remained were a handful of Adjuchas who successfully survived the powerful counter-attack. The creatures varied greatly in appearance; some resembling stocky humanoids while others were animal-like. These greater Menos traversed the battlefield with startling speed, hacking and pummeling any guards in their way.

Unlike the Gillians, the touch of Adjuchas is caustic; capable of corroding any organic tissue they came in contact with. This combined with their intelligence, speed, and overwhelming strength made them a more serious threat. They engaged those called to defend with intense aggression, attempting to overwhelm them with a litany of blows. The metallic shing of Kaen's Wakizashi sliding into its scabbard rang against his eardrum. He suddenly flickered from view, only to reappear in the path of a dashing Adjucha with a retracted fist. The former captain hurled his arm forward, transferring the gathered momentum into his fist. The resulting contact caused an ample amount of focused Reiatsu to burst outward and rip apart his target's abdomen. "Ikkotsu." After having its torso destroyed the mangled remains of the Menos were flung backward, leaving friction with the ground to slow the corpse to a stop.

It felt good to do that. He thought to himself before turning his head to Aeryn. "Mooks you call 'em?!" he shouted, "Fitting name!" Kaen ducked under a razor sharp claw swung at him and raised one hand toward two approaching Menos.

"Hado number thirty-one, Shakkahō." The area around them served as fuel for the perilously fervent flames manifested by his incantation. The fire sprang from the swirling ball of heat before quickly expanding into a pillar that incinerated a single side of each of them; leaving a blackened muss of melted flesh.

With the added assistance of the newly arrived the remaining Adjuchas began to steadily dwindle until all had been slain. Just in time, it seemed. Kaen stood upright after the threat had been eliminated, scanning the field with honey optics. "'Gonna have to start charging these Hollows," he jested, 'They're getting more of a workout than me." The jaunty Shinigami dusted himself off while shifting his gaze to the warriors who caught his attention during the battle. The Paladin and Monk, Anria, Aeryn,the Kitsune and Jon.

As the portal closed behind him and the hostile spirits dispersed, Achaeos nodded his head once. The fox turned and in a flicker of light slipped from the spirit realm back to the mortal one. It would be the first time that those assembled had been able to get a clear look at him, barring the ability to see into other realms, a red-brown nine-tailed fox with spiritual markings of white patterned on his fur.

A faint light enveloped him and obscured him from view, as he shifted from the fox shape back to his humanoid form. His lantern formed in his grip, swaying in the wind. He bowed his head to Aeryn and Kaen, the two closest to him. "I trust that the battle here went well," he said, "I did what I could from the other side."

Josh, scowling as the last of the Hollows were brought down, glared at the bridge before setting down on it. As ever, holy energies and dark essence warred against each other as the consecration attacked his being, trying to weaken it. This time, the ferocity of the warring stirred his incorporeal form, deepening his scowl into a snarl. He might have been aid, but as far as at least one of the allies involved, he was still anathema.

Letting the sword in hand slip from fingers to boil into smoking essence, he crossed his arms before him, studying the victorious combatants. Mages, warriors, a kitsune, and some spiritual being. The latter he liked least of the individuals, but the wall of knights even less than him. The holy aura radiated from them in waves on the spiritual plane, which didn't do anything but identify the problem the consecrated ground posed to him.

As far as words, he was still wary. From the occasional glance his way, he was a stranger, and one who reacted badly to the present of purity. Waiting to be approached was the course of action that seemed best, given the circumstances.

After the battle came to a close, Elante had descended downwards from where he hovered in the air to alight on the plateau at the end of the bridge, near where Aeryn, Achaeos and Kaen were in conversation. He released his spell on Aeryn and was about to walk over when he noticed the approach of another figure. The mage turned with a raised eyebrow to observe the approach of the horned man.

"Hello?" his greeting carried a note of inquiry to it, "I haven't seen you around before. I'm afraid you missed the party, if you're responding to the warhorns."