06.29.3013: Roving Rovehn
Summary: A group of knights and soldiers go to rescue captured Rovehn.
Date: 29 June 2013
Related: None Directly
Hostiles Lionel Agnes Nikomachos Alexis Aidan Anabethe Flint Aelewen Viannea Erik Talayla Sammel Kassandra Johana Michael 


The Plains of Ares, The Vale
Outside of Phylon, the Plains of Ares stretch on for thousands of miles, from the furthest southern end of the Vale to the beginning of the Forlorn Swamps in the chill north, from the eastern coast of the continent to the western. Scattered farming communities and noble holds lie within the near endless rolling hills, surrounded by seas of grass. Ribbons and patches of water lie about it here and there, streams and ponds coming together to run into the ocean or the expanse of the Great Lake. Grain farms crosshatch large swathes of the Plains, centered around small communities that are in turn centered around Waygates, but the vast majority of the Plains have been left to their own natural devices.
29 June, 3013

The Caravan of Rovehn had set up some ways from the northern settlement of Northon — a small farming town somewhere between the grand Fortress of Phylon and the edges of the Forlorn Swamps. Much of the outlying settlements of the Vale have been on high alert since the caravan attack, wary of what may be hunting them through the tall grasses and shrublands of the Plains. Folks were staying tightly locked behind their doors at night, curfew hours have been scheduled, and there is a fearful lull over much of the sprawling, rolling stretch of plains.

It was just before pre-dawn when the small band of rather interesting mixed company left from The Bottoms. They aren't the only one either, several other groups departing in various directions to hunt out this particular unit of terrorizing Hostiles. There are only four Rovehns in this particular group, and one of them is Lionel Keats. They do much of the leading, proving that while Phylon may be on the Plains of Ares, it is the Rovehns who actually call it home. One of the Rovehn scouts has been working with the pair of Arborenin, tracking the Hostile movements over the plains. They came across a skinned bovine herd, bodies rotting under the morning sun. It lead them to the west, toward the Great Lake, and there through a series of rolling hills marked with meadowland. It was to the north of that that they came across the Hostile encampment — an alien cluster of cuboid structures whose quasi-camouflage made it hard to spot the camp from afar. The band has stopped on the backside of a hill that overlooks the camp, giving everyone a chance for last minute preparation.

Lady Sir Agnes Peake sits astride her very ornery cuss of a destrier, the dapple grey she calls Argent. By now most people have learned to give the horse a wide berth, lest they get nipped or kicked. Her armor has been carefully polished, a gleaming emblem of knighthood. She spent the last night in one of the chantry's churches, thanking the Six for guiding the late King Symion's wise choice of heir, and asking them to guard and bolster the new King. Now she has settled her mind in preparation for the battle ahead. She has a niece and a nephew on the battlefield with her today, and intends to return her brother's children to him alive and well. She looks out over the plains to the Hostile encampment, an aura of confidence and calm about her.

Nikomachos obviously chafes at waiting for the poorer riders in the group whenever they lag behind, however well he tries to hide it. After all, these are his people — or at least his people's people — who have been killed or captured, and he would rather be already amid their tormentors than waiting for laggards. Still, he has had some training in courtesy, so he merely rides up and down the little column, stopping here and there to offer a hand or a few pointers to those who need it. When they are drawn to a halt, he guides his bronze-and-gold-barded destrier up toward the front of the little column, although he is careful to keep his grip on his lance choked up and the long weapon carried low at his side so that the point, with its color-shifting streamers — does not show over the hill. "AI, tight bead, line of sight only." He waits for the green light to show that his armor has prepped the comm, "They're just on the other side of the hill. If you've gathered up some saddle sores already, this might be a good place to dismount. We'll tell off some of the squires to guard the horses." He stops them, glancing over to the armor tagged with the Sauveur and Peake names, and continues more carefully, "With your permission, of course, Knight Lieutenants."

Alexis considers for a moment after that communication from Nikomachos then answers in a calm matter of fact tone. "We are mostly mounted but do not want to get tangled up in the structures and have several archers with weapons outranging Hostile crossbows. Additionally given some of us will be fighting on foot, charging would play to the enemy strengths and split us up. My reccommendation is that we form up there." She gestures to ridgeline a distance along with one gauntletted hand. "And sting them with arrows, force them to come to us then charge only once they are disordered and in the open."

As the Hostile encampment comes into sight, Aidan reins in Obsidian. The all black stallion, while no warhorse, was trained for war so as not to shy at the scent of blood and other sounds of combat. Trained by the Rovehn, he seemed almost happy to return home when they rode through the Ways. Turning his horse around, Aidan rides back to where his sister and aunt are in the formation. "Your turn. I'll just hide behind you where it's safe." Of course, he's already readying his bow and checking the quiver of extra arrows attached to Obsidian's saddle. As Niko rides by, he nods a greeting but leaves pleasantries for after the fight.

Anabethe rides…functionally. It's a way to get places, and having a well-trained horse means not doing a lot in the way of working at getting said horse to do what she wants. She is, however, grateful to dismount once the Hostile settlement is sighted, leaving her horse behind to enjoy the bounty of the plains. Rather than complain, she simply takes a few moments to stretch carefully, making sure she's not going to stumble.

"I'll never understand these walking glue factories." Flint grunts on calm older horse that had been loaned out to him in lieu other…more modern modes of transportation. "You'd think a four wheeler would be just as good." The Grantham is grouchy. When there was a call for assistance in a Hostile incursion out on the plains, the Ash Knight was more than happy to lend aid, just didn't think about the thinks attatched just in trying to get to the field. Small things, really, in light of getting a good fight. Either way, he's with those who lag behind, do his best to keep up until the call for who want to dismount can. When he hits the ground on his feet, he seems to feel a bit better. "That's better. You." he looks at the horse. "Stay put." Pause. "Good horse."

Aelewen is down on her stomach, her camoflague armor protecting her as she watches the camp carefully. Over her secure comms she gives a report over the comms "Estimated thirty judging on tents. No sign of sentries but they are there I am sure" she says, her voice crisp and professional "No sign they have seen us yet" she adds whilst moving back over the hill and pulling out her bow "Wait they show up on thermals, we got five moving around the perimeter. Archers they should be your first target"

For Viannea Peake the chance to finally help has arrived, hence why she's here, armed, armored and mounted. Her mood has been more serious than normal, the task they all have taken upon themselves serving well in stilling her tongue. Her own horse, a large charger named Animus, seems to have picked up on her mood as he is not as spirited as those who know him might expect from the fairly young equine. Vi's kept herself close to Aidan and Agnes both and has only pulled away from them if necessary to navigate a narrowing in a path or something similar. She pulls up along the side of her brother and smiles. "You'll be fine," she promises. The smile fades when she, like their aunt, surveys the sight before them.

Today, Erik has not been thinking about the passing of the King and the naming of a new heir, instead the Valen is focused on this mission they have embarked on. Tracking down and decimating the Hostiles that struck out at the Rovehn caraven pods is the main priority for the young noble knight. He sits on his horse as if he's grown up doing so, an easy manner as the combat detachment follows the scouts that know this land best. During the time, the youngest Valen would either be at the front of the column or having fallen back to where a particular Ibrahm is riding. Once the Hostile encampment is spotted, Erik's posture tightens and his grip on his lance tightens, looking eager. "We should strike as soon as we can and not lose the element of surprise. If they know we are here, then the charge would not be as effective as they would be prepared to defend."

Quietly amongst the rear and ranged folk, there's Talayla and her mighty steed, Whoops. … modestly mighty … … mighty enough that Tal won't fall off. The horse seems to be a decent chap, just - sort of a spaced out expression (as expressive as horses can be) on his face. She's wisely keeping her eyes open and head down. She listens. And watches. And quietly turns over so many thoughts that intrude unhappily.

Muttering some things to his armor's AI as he keeps his own horse in place, Sammel adjusts the lance in his hand a little bit now. Leaning forward a bit to pat the horse a bit gently, he says something rather quiet to the animal as well. He frowns a little as he sees the Hostile encampment, shaking his head a little to himself. "A fine day to show them they should have stayed away," he offers, with a momentary grin now.

Lionel, in his leonine armor, sits astride a golden destrier with a long white mane and tail that softly flows in the gentle summer breeze that rolls through the plains. The horse is massive, though perhaps a bit on the short side for a destrier. It had lost its right leg some years ago, replaced by a bronze and silver cybernetic limb that matches the solid gold cybernetic eye in its left eye socket; its nose is deeply scarred, including a rough tear of discolored tissue up the left side of its cheek. It has seen the horrors of war, that is obvious, but it has a stern and unwavering presense because of that. It matches the lion-like Lionel — known as The Mane — quite perfectly. He glances over toward Alexis, and then to the Knight Lieutenant Sir Issin Mordin — a Rovehn who has been charged with leading this band of odd couples — who looks to Alexis and then nods with Erik's suggestion. "We ride in while they don't suspect us, and tear them down," the Citizen Knight grunts. "No picnicking, Lords… Ladies… Sirs… lets get this shit done."

Kassandra is not nearly so kind as her brother. Having started at the rear, by the time they reach the Hostile camp, she is now riding somewhere near the front of the column. When Nikomachos pulls ahead of her, she urges her pretty, red destrier - Platinum Prince - forward to stand beside him. The horse is calm and quiet, echoing its rider's deamanor as she sits like a statue and gazes through her visor. Much like her brother, she holds her lance low to keep herself out of direct line-of-sight. "This shan't be pretty," she observes quietly, sparing a glance for her brothers; unlike some of them, she has not yet gone toe-to-toe with the enemy.

Atop her own destrier, an ebony horse with a fiery mane Johana calls Wildfire, she wears her armor, helm already pulled on, sealed with her armor, AI with instructions. Prepared for hostiles they inevitably meet on most patrols lately, the Ibrahm glances over at Erik, offers a nod and tightens her hands on the reins with one hand, drawing her blade with the other. When the Citizen Knight gives the orders, she glances back at Erik and gives another nod, in agreement. Time to kick it in gear.

"Archers…" Sir Issin says, pausing as he notes Talayla, "And Sorcerers." Because all Awakened are sorcerers in this Valen's mind. "You'll follow the cav in, fire at whatever you see. Cav will clear some path for the infantry. Form up."

Michael rode just to the side of his knight, keeping his eyes open for scouts or pickets. His shield has been transfered to this new armor, the color altered to red instead of purple. He stopped when Johana did. Taking a short look around and whispering into his helmet as he looks from person to person. He returns his attention now to the encampment, awaiting the order to ride.

Alexis frowns inside her helmet, still nods, dropping her bow back into its case and fastening it closed before retrieving a long handled axe from the saddle in its place. "Keep together as you charge everyone, hit them hard and concentrated, if you spot a particularly huge Hostile be warned those things can rip a knight apart. Try to take it with multiple lances on the initial charge. Concentrate ranged fire on the priests if you spot them, when those are dead their tactics fall apart but they hang back from the front line using some kind of sonic weaponry."

Agnes looks from Nikomachos to Alexis and back again. Before she responds, the Knight Lieutenant in charge makes the call. "Yes Sir," she barks back, readying her sword and bringing her hard light shield to life on her off-arm. "Winnie, recalibrate sensors and gyros for mounted assault." The AI in her armor complies, "Yes, Sir Agnes, recalibrating." She forms up in the second row of cavalry, behind the lancers. "Aidan, Viannea, stay together and watch one another's backs," she notes quietly to the two Peake youths.

Nikomachos opens his mouth to respond to Alexis' proposed plan, then closes it again, the expression hidden by his horse-crested helm. He nods sharply at Erik's words, and again at those of Sir Issin, his gold and bronze helm bobbing along with the motion of his head. No need to respond on the comm channel, since the Knight Lieutenant said most everything he needed to, Nikomachos merely murmurs, "AI, Shield on." Hard light blazes from his left forearm, waves of flame spreading outward to form a kite-shaped shield. As the forces line up, he looks from side to side, seeing the Valen lining up with their lances. A touch of laughter lifts up inside his helm, and he shifts his comm channel to just his family, "Shall we show them how it's done in the Vale?"

Anabethe tips her chin toward Flint as the order to form up comes in, adjusting her grip on her halberd. "Grantham. Ready to take a few more of these things apart?" She tracks the orders on her comm, glancing among the mounted knights and looking over the terrain to come. "Keep these fellows occupied so the cav can pick them off while they're distracted. Work out those sore muscles," she chuckles, settling into formation.

"Of course I'll be fine." Aidan retorts, giving Vi a grin. "I'm a Peake. We're as steady as Mordune." Glancing at his aunt, he adds "And almost as large. Not to mention that we've got the advantage. They're alien invaders. The land itself is on our side and will work to help us." As Agnes gives them instructions, he just nods then leans in to Vi. "Guard Agnes' back." he says quietly. "I'll be fighting from the rear where you can't do much good. I'll be keeping an eye on your two though so don't worry."

Having his armor's AI make the proper adjustments to mark allies and hostiles, Erik maneuvers his own horse into formation with the others as they are readying for the cavalry charge. His helm turns and a glance back to the armored Ibrahm is given, a private message sent from his comm to hers before a nod is offered. Then he glances to his brothers and sister, smirking under his helm, "At least we still have one advantage over these abominations, and that's cavalry. And that is why we will win this war." With that said, Erik turns his gaze to the encampment ahead and the Hostiles they will be riding down soon enough.

Viannea looks at their aunt when she gives her instructions and she can not help but to frown slightly. As much as she loves Agnes and Aidan she feels like she has been fettered by the elder Lady Knight's order and for a moment she can not help but to bristle slightly at that. Instead of giving voice to her understanding she merely nods once before looking back over to her brother, curious. When he speaks to her more directly she speaks as well, keeping her own voice down. "I will protect her as much as I can. But you know how Aunt Agnes is…" Taking a deep breath she reaches out to touch her brother on the arm before he can get away and then she positions herself on Agnes' off side.

Aelewen lets the folks organise as she starts to creep foward towards one of the positions she scouted out before, making sure not to move in sight until the main body starts to move. No point spoiling the surprise for the Hostiles afterall she keeps her eyes, well sensors, on the patrolling scouts just in case one gets too close.

Talayla and her mount seem suited to one another. Both look positively wide-eyed. She nods as sorcerer is mentioned and hey, that's what she is and does. She listens for her part, watching over the others. She nods to Sir Issin, making mental notes. Follow cav. They seem nervous in a way, lingering near the archers.

Jerking his head to get the kinks out of his neck, Flint regards Anabethe with a nod of his own. "Heh, so long as I don't have to fight them on those…things." he states, jerking a thumb over his shoulder at his horse. "I'm just fine taking Hostiles to task all day long." Taking a hold of his bar mace, he twists the handle, the weapon extending to it's full two-handed length. "Yeah, I figured we'd be the ones soaking most of the on-foot attention, while the ones on the gluesticks go do the charging. Think we've been delegated to grunt division, Red." A mild laugh. "Sore from Niveus? Too cold for ya?" he comments, getting into formation next to her.

"My Lady," Issin says to Alexis dryly with perhaps just a hint of disdain. It causes Lionel to smirk just as he lowers the lion jaws of his helmet down over his face. He pulls up his horse amongst the other cavalry sorts, drawing his lance to bear. He casts a glance toward the ranged folks, nodding his head a bit toward Talayla — maybe because of the wide-eyedness, poor girl — and then starts to adjust for the upcoming call for charge.

Down below, over the slight rise, the Hostile camp seems still and quiet. The Rovehn scout is lying on his belly, looking through viewfinders down into the camp as if getting a sense of something. He raises his arm, gesturing a signal to Issin, and the Knight Lieutenant nods his head firmly. "Advance!" He calls — though not too loudly, and that's when everyone starts (hopefully) moving forward the crest the hill.

There's a brief nod as Sammel hears Niko's words, nodding a bit now. "Let's show them, brother," he offers, before he starts bringing the horse forward at the order to advance now. "Showtime…"

Spurs are pressed to Argent's flanks as Agnes and her destrier move forward, following the first line in a steady march, letting Issin set the pace. She unsheathes her sword, holding it low and away so as not to interfere with riding.

Glancing over at her squire, Johana makes sure everything is all okay with him, by sight at least. When he seems to be visually, she looks over at Erik. "Mark Friendlies," she murmurs to her AI, nudging her horse near Erik, expecting Michael to follow. Fighting in groups against a single target usually worked best, so she stays in a group. Getting the private message, she looks back at Erik, "Your.." then sudden realization sets in. Right. A quick glance back to Michael one more time along with a sharp exhale and her helm remains facing forward, posture stiffer than even her armor requires. She does not reply to the comm message. As soon as the order to advance is given, she gets a Hostile in her sights, not paying particular attention to who else may be targeting it after all.
Aelewen has reconnected.

Dipping her head for a moment, Kassandra nods when the order is given. Her words are lost inside her helmet as she orders her shield up, and the hard light kite shield in virulent blue forms out of her right forearm. The Valen urges Platinum Prince back and into formation, and when Niko's laugh echoes into her helmet, she cannot help but grin in return behind the protective gear. "Let's," she answers just before the call for advance, and she readies her lance in her left hand before nudging her mount into action.

"Niveus was fucking cold," Anabethe informs Flint. "But I defrosted on Inculta for a night. Now the trick's to keep from getting sore from the riding." She pauses to clap a hand to the shoulders of various men in the foot line, offering some encouragement. It may not be as flashy as the Valen mounted charge, but its function is in its unity, and that's something the Khournas heir can appreciate. As the call comes for the riders, she braces herself at the forefront of the foot unit, ready to charge in their own way.

Michael shuffles forward to Johana's side, and nods to her to show he's ready to ride when she is. He looks to the field, taking note of a particular Hostile and prepares himself for the attack.

Alexis kicks her own destrier forward, the animal long since used to her only using one leg for the task, her shield igniting into life while she shifts her grip on her axe and swing the weapon up ready.

Aelewen slowly creeps up to her firing position. Her lean camoflagued form slithers like a snake until she is up there, taking cover behind a rock. Sliding noiselessly up into a kneeling position she draws her bow and nocks an arrow, aiming down through the optical sights down at the camp. Taking a deep breath she closes her eyes for a moment, letting her armor fill her head with windage and angles and everything as she opens them to focus on her target, all distracts fading away.

Nikomachos plants the point of his lance in the ground a moment so that he can shift his grip back to the proper point, responding to Erik over the Valen comm channel, "And because we're all so pretty." At the call to advance, he lifts up the lance and guides Erinye forward, starting the destrier forward at a walk, then matching the acceleration of the other mounted forces.

"Could've been worse." Flint suggests, watching the line of calvary move off while the rest of them start going ahead on foot. "Could've been a blizzard going on at the time. So actually, I'd say the weather was pretty nice all told." Setting his mace across his shoulder, the Grantham does what he always: his walk in the park before the combat begins. Maybe his little way of mentally preparing himself. "Thanatos, tag friendlies and Hostiles as per usual. Aannnnd…let's go with Electronic Mix Four this time, I'm feeling frisky."

Talayla's weapon is her brainmeats. There's a polite nod and weak, grateful expression back to the leonine one. She is going to look a bit more supernal now, her aura flaring up. It resembles the depths and terror of ocean and space. What horrors and glimmering lights await within. She's likely sort of half-sneaking, half horsing it up. She's going to be the exact opposite of stealthy with this aura business, so she lingers with the cav sorts. A target is choosen and it's time to start casting, a few sharp whispers and gestures. Mind you, she's being careful not to fall off her horse.

When Agnes moves Vi moves with her, trying to keep up with the Lady Knight she formally squired for. A quick glance is spared to her brother as she leaves him to stay towards the end of the group and then another is given around to look for Michael. She then gets her head fully in the game.

Aidan sets his horse behind his aunt's, waiting for the command to charge. Not that he'll be charging so much as just riding foward enough to make use of his bow's range. As he catches sight of the aura flare, he sends obsidian walking over to Talayla to say "Be careful not to let them get close enough to flank you. They might target you for capture once they spot your aura."

With the order to advance given, Erik raises his own lance and nudges his own destrier, Havok, to a trot. The formation with the other Valens is unbroken as he matches speed with the charging wave, the speed increasing with each passing second until he is thundering down towards the Hostiles. The youngest Cindravale's focus is on one of the sentries and soon his lance is couched tightly against himself, preparing for impact.

As the charge begins properly, Argent's speed picks up, turning him into a molten silver blur bearing a golden one on his back. They go barreling across the plain at breakneck speed. The horse's ears are flat back, his teeth bared, loving the freedom to run more than anything. A launcher fires and Agnes hauls on the reins to steer the dapple grey around the missile. The ground where it impacts explodes upwards just to her left. T She changes course for the sword-wielding hostile attacking Sammel, rushing past him as she brings her blade down in an overhand strike to the right side of her mount. It bounces off the Hostile's armor and she has to turn her steed for the next pass.

There is a sense of nothingness from the Hostile encampment at first. Stillness layered on silence, and then it happens like an abrupt flash of lightning. The scouts appear, dropping out from their active camoflague just in time to see the cavalry line charge over the hill. Amongst them steps out three of the soldiers — each is a lean and tall humanoid covered in what looks like exposed muscle muddled with cybernetic plates. Their eyes glow like ice in the warm plains of the Vale. One draws its halberd just as the Hostiles, the other a sword, and the last draws its crossbow up to bear. The scouts extend their dominant arms, firing thick rods of metal through the air at their targets which then relax into semi-solid shards that will be a fright to remove later.

Blade drawn, Johana rides to attack, sword held high as she approaches nearest Hostile, swinging it with all her might, catching it across the armored chest just as a bolt from another Hostile further out strikes her own armor without penetrating. With a growl of disapproval she swings the blade once more towards the same hostile, attempting to take specific aim this time.

Combat is not a quiet affair and for a moment Vi finds herself startled when the clash starts. It causes her teeth to clench upon hearing it and she hisses in anger several times. The first time is when she finds her attack dodged and then again when she feels the impact of a bolt upon her torso. "I don't think so…" She turns to face the one who tried to shoot her and spurs Animus into a run, her sword raised in prepreation for an attack on the new target.

Michael rides to the attack, and as he nears his target he catches sight of one of those blasted ribbons flying at him. He ducks and that causes his sword to be off target glancing of the arm of the thing as he rides by. He recovers from the attack and picks a new target.

Alexis surges her destrier forward as they crest the ridge and scouts blur into view, picking a target then charging as she crouches low in the saddle behind her shield. Ducking as a metal rod screams past her she misses the swing of her axe in turn but then whirls in the saddle, flipping the weapon over to try to follow through with a backhand swing.

Once the cavalry charge is underway, Anabethe brings her halberd down and forward to start the infantry charge. For now it's running, pounding across the plains after the faster cavalry. This is at least easier than charging through the snow on Niveus, which gives Anabethe a chance to keep an eye on the flickering lights of her AI, marking targets doing and taking damage.

Talayla pauses, nodding at Aidan's advice. "Thank you," She murmurs. "I appreciate it," She nods. "Good luck." She does seem appreciative. But as grateful as she is, there's precious little time to talk. It's time. Focus, Talayla, Focus. Seemingly out of nowhere, the head and body of a white, ice wolf rips out from the ground and takes a bite out of cri— a Hostile. She's mindful not to thwack Alexis in the process, so she's really intent, white eyes narrowed now. She's shivering, hearing all of this -noise- and chaos. It's alarming. Is this how it is? She manages to shush the worries and every nerve saying that her /sensible/ option is to bolt, seeming some relief as the spell does a fair dent in the Hostile.

Aelewen frowns as she looses the arrow. The experienced archer already knowing the shot was not quite right. She lets out a slow breath as she pulls another arrow in an easy practice motion, fitting it to the bow and aiming down again, this time adding a soft prayer to the gods above as she pulls the string back, still doing her best to look like part of the landscape.

Seeing his arrow bounce off the armor of the Hostile, Aidan gives Obsidian the command to stand steady so he can rise in his stirrups to get a better shot. The extra height lets him spot one of the closer Hostiles with a crossbow so he switches targets to take out the ranged threat.

Lionel is amongst those who charge, literally, into the fray. His lance slams into the crossbow-bearing Hostile's chest, and he feels a sharp jarring across his arm and through his shoulder, but he does not lose his stance on his horse. He sweeps his horse around with an upward yank of his reins, drawing the golden monster back into another charge just as its hooves cut up grass and dirt.

Might as well stick with someone you know. And someone that you know that can fight decently. Flint saw enough of the Khounas heir on Niveus, so might as well stick together in this one. Pace quickening, the music starts to fill his internal speakers. Something with a nice heavy bassy beat to fight to, electronica, most likely. His bar mace, gripped in both hands and the first Hostile that blips into his HUD is first one he takes a bead on. "Hello, darling. Welcome to the show where the fun never ends." Then he raises his weapon and swings downward as soon as he meets with it.

The Hostile scouts aren't dumb apparently, at least dumb enough to stand there to get ridden down by lances. The steel ribbon impacts Erik but his armor is able to deflect it away. His own lance strikes only a glancing blow as well but the combination of the strength of the lance itself and the power of his horse, the glancing blow actually deals a wound. There is no stopping for the Valen Knight as he urges his steed on so he can wheel around for another pass on the Hostiles.

Heading straight for his target, Sammel managed to hit it in the neck, although he takes a hit in one leg from the enemy. And for some reason, this causes him to lose his balance now, and he ends up falling from his horse to land on his back on the ground. Taking a few moments to get back to his feet, he looks around to see if he still has the chance to get back to his horse now.

When the Havenites crest the hill and the order to charge is given, Nikomachos puts spurs to Erinye's flanks, and the black destrier breaks into a run. Spotting a taller creature with the crossbow, he guides his charge in that direction, lowering his lance in concert with those of his family, right at the last moment. Riding past one of the other Hostiles, a polearm slips behind his shield, catching between the plates guarding his arm and drawing blood. The knight hisses, but does not waver from his charge, punching the point of his lance into his target's stomach and tearing out the side. At the moment of impact, the holoprojectors on his armor's shoulders flare into life, sending up translucent, fiery wings above his shoulders. Riding past the target, he looks back over his shoulder to see the results of his handiwork — but the Hostile is still standing and there's a riderless horse, "Damn it! Sammy! Say something…"

Sunlight glints off of Kassandra's shiny gold-and-white armor as Platinum Prince surges forward with her silent command. The woman is unaware of her growl echoing inside her helmet as she orders last-minute changes to her HUD while aiming for one of the now visible Hostiles. When her lance hits, it sends a jarring and near-painful vibration up through her arm, but she remains firmly planted atop her horse. A loud *thunk* against her armor causes her to sway, but with a yank of the reins, she draws Prince out of the fray and back around to ready for another charge.

This time there is a small smile on the older woodswoman's face as she looses the arrow. And sure enough it arches down and true, piercing through the energy shield to smack firmly into the chest of the hostile. Automaticaly Aelewen moves firing position, duckwalking to a new spot as her hand reaches down for another arrow. Still pretending to be part of the landscape she draws it back and aims down into the combat, closing her eyes and offering another prayer to the gods.

If at first you don't succeed… Aidan knocks another arrow and draws but, as promised, he sees Viannea fall from her horse. "Aunt Agnes, Viannea is down." he broadcasts, switching to the House frequency as he changes his aim to the Hostile that hurt his sister.

Her attack happens just as the blugeon finds her torso, the impact of which aids in her target being able to dance out of the way. The weapon dents her armor and does so more than hard enough to not only bruise and crack ribs (and hopefully results in nothing more serious than that like a punctured lung) but to throw Viannea from her saddle. Her horse continues to charge while she falls on her back, winded and sore and too disorientated to press an attack… or get to her feet, for that matter.

Alexis's backhand fails to connect as she instead ends up jerking her shield to interpose between herself and the Hostile scout's axe, sending the monomolecular blade skittering across the gleaming golden field before it is sent sprawling by a blast from Talayla in the distance. Raising her own weapon in salute to the Orelle she then turns to spot one of the Hostiles engaging the downed Michael, letting her destrier indulge in trambling the fallen foe as she rushes another of the scouts with her axe upraised.

Luckily, Johana has a well trained horse and after once more her sword swing is off, she mutters unhappily and easily dismounts, patting a gauntlet covered hand on his rump, sending him a safe distance away. Afoot now, the Ibrahm is more in her element, able to take a more aggressive stance as she openly slashes towards the Hostile, advancing on it, trying to push it back. Or kill it.

The sound of the foot soldiers hitting the Hostiles is at least as loud as the thunder of hooves. There's more armor clashing, more weapons slamming into each other, and a good deal of roaring from the infantry. It takes a little more to get psyched up to take them hand to hand, after all. Anabethe picks her target, ducking under the Hostile's pole arm before thrusting her own up into its chest to pin it in place for Flint's attack. A ping in her ear warns that a comrade has been unhorsed, and rather than continue with the injured Hostile, she leaves it to Flint to face off against the one that looms by Michael.

When Flint and Anabethe attack in tandem, the results thus far have been pretty promising. The Hostiles takes two solid blows from both of their weapons. But the Grantham doesn't get a chance to really enjoy his intial success, as his hand is struck in a way that stingns more than it should. Grunting, he turns to find another Hostile has honed in on him, one that seems to be barely holding itself together. "You got this one? Looks like someone is wanting to cut in. Be back in a minute." he comments to Anabethe, before wasting no time and bring his bar mace to bear on the body of the other that so rudely interupted his fun.

Michael doesn't notice the other rider at first, then she's hit in the chest and knocked from her horse. The he gets a flashback to Sir Thalo as he's slammed hard in the stomach and in knocked from his horse. He pushes to his feet and looks to the other, oh the six it's Vi, he quickly moves to be near her and takes an aggressive stance to engage their mutual enemy.

Argent lets out an angry scream as he's turned so rapidly, and his hooves tear up the earth as Agnes directs him back towards the sword-wielding Hostile. This time, the Knight changes her posture, aiming higher at the enemy's throat, rather than at its chest. Once more she strikes her target, but the blade bounces off the armor. This is not going well. She turns at Aidan's message, and sees her niece take a blow, and spurs Argent that way, trying to bring her sword down on top of the Hostile's head and distract him from the injured Peake.

"I seem to have misplaced my horse…" comes Sammel's reply as he hears Niko's words, before he moves to attempt to dodge the next incoming attack. And while he doesn't succeed fully, the strike bounces off his armor this time. "Well, both sword and a useful weapon, that is…" Still trying to get in the direction of wherever his horse is, at least.

After regrouping from the first charge with the other Valens, Erik looks over the battlefield and with a brief glance at his brother and sister, it appears that the decision is to descend about the second wave of Hostiles that are reacting to the Havenites before they could reinforce the sentries. "Niko, Kassie, looks like the Hostiles are responding to the alarm, new group is moving to reinforce the sentries."

There is a flash of a metallic hoof as the destrier kicks out a foot, pulling its head sharp into its chest as it prepares for the next charge. Lionel's leonine head turns sharply as he spots another round of Hostiles — now behind him. He pulls his horse around sharply, redirecting that half-cybernetic gaze on the next set of enemies. "For Rovehn!" He shouts, veins burning with vengeance. "For Haven!" And then he heels the horse at the belly, sending it into another forward charge.

Heywaitaminute. She knows that guy! Talayla is trying to hold her concentration, and watches Sammel's horse go by. She pauses, noticing the blade on the saddle. "Whoa horsey please stop bad horsey okay good horsey." It's chaotic, but she manages to grab a sword and move closer to Sammel to hand it over. It's almost comical, Whoops and Talayla trying to hold more range. Still, she's moving towards Sammel, bringing his sword. "Follow horsey? Um, shoot-" Animal powers are really not her forte and she's - holy noodles, that Hostile is kicking a dude that is down! She'll stand still to cast at a Hostile, leaving an opening for Sammel to grab his sword and hop on or just grab his sword. "I bring you a pointy object! I think that makes us friends."

Except it's not working so well, and so the sword should suffice.

With one successful pass behind her, Kassandra pauses for a moment to check her HUD. "More Hostiles bringing up their rear. I see it now, Erik," she mutters into the comm before picking out her new target - one in the next wave that has yet to engage those on foot. She readies her lance and nudges Prince in the side to set him to charging, and this time she is completely silent.

Nikomachos wheels his horse around looking back into the fight for a moment. Once he hears that Sammel is up, he breathes out a sigh of relief, "Well, find a friend and stick close to them, Sammy." Looking around, he spots the group clustered around the pair of shooters further into the camp. Pointing them out with his lance, he nods to Erik and broadcasts, "Right with you, baby brother!" Hearing Lionel's call, Nikomachos laughs and calls out on the general push, "For Glory!" After all, might as well get the House words in.

Michael isn't letting this Hostile near Vi and forces the attack, lunging his blade into the damn thing's chest and withdrawing in time to duck under it's strike. Bringing his shield up again and preparing to attack again. He can't spare a glance to Vi yet, but he knows she'll get up, she's amazing right? "Speed and surety!" he calls out at the creature, not knowing if it echoes through the comm or not.

Pausing as he hears Talayla's words, Sammel moves for the sword as Talayla brought it to him. "Thanks…" he offers, before he mutters to himself. "Let's see that I've not forgotten how to use this oversized letter opener. Next time, I'll move in on foot, with my poleaxe again…" Trying to attack that Hostile that's been denting his armor now.

"C'mon, kid, on your feet," Anabethe urges Michael as she dives in to keep the Hostile off the squire. Once more she trades blows with her opponent and steps shy of its weapon, light on her feet, before returning with a thrust of her halberd that scores a line across the Hostile's chest plate and leaves a line of blood running down its front. Michael is up and running, though, which leaves her looking for the next target of opportunity to keep the Havenites on their feet.

This time, Agnes' sword connects with the head of the Hostile that struck Viannea. The Knight hauls on the reins to stop Argent, and dismounts with a grace belied by her size. She smacks the horse on the rump with a call of , "To Aidan," and the destrier bounds off to find her nephew and wait for her to recall him to battle.

"You should be with your knight," comes Viannea's grumpy, pain-fueled chastisement, her words clipped as is her tone. She doesn't continue with whatever it is she might say as she's looking for another target before she even has a chance to get upright. Her aunt's horse is caught out of the corner of her eye and she hurries, rolling onto her left side first and then she can get onto her feet. Now steady, she finds a hostile within sword range and swings, aiming for the bastard's head.

Alexis's attempted charge is… Interrupted as another of the Hostiles turns to engage her, turning to strike down at the scout in question she ends up taking a quarrel to the hand past her shield from one of the soldiers in the back line. Her AI cuts out her comms for a moment there as she cries out and her shield fumbles leaving her wide open as she hammers her axe down at her opponent only to be smashed from the back of her horse as an axe strike lays open her helmet. Half blinded with blood she staggers back to her feet behind her shield having lost her axe somewher in the fall, tearing her sword from its scabbard and obviously having trouble remaining standing.

In her comfort zone now, Johana swings her blade true and it strikes just right into the Hostile, and the enemy falls, crumpled to a heap.. unfortunately, it managed to get a hit in to her chest. Again with the chest! It knocks her back a few steps but she manages not to fall. Instead, it puts her beside another Hostile so she focuses on it, not able to take the time to look at anyone around her and see who was standing or who was down. She just had to trust them to be able to take care of themselves…

The next arrow strikes a hand's breath from the second, plunging into the creatures arm with a wet smack. And then it is back to being a blade of grass. Be at one with the plains around her as Aelwen duckwalks a little away and takes aim once more. A slow breath held, then release.

Frustration is building in the youngest Valen, not only because of the lack of success with the cavalry charges but also before this entire engagement happens. However, when he sees his older sister take a blow and is pulled off her horse, all of that is pushed out of his mind. "Kassie!" He calls out over the comm, immediately throwing his lance to the side and pulling out his bastard sword, wielding it with one hand. Spurring on his horse, he is focused on the Hostile that was attacking Kassandra.

As Viannea gets back to her feet, Aidan knocks another arrow to continue his attack on the one that hurt her. That it's turned and now seems to be going after his aunt since she hurt it is is a bonus.

Lionel, after the last pass, throws aside his lance, allowing it to clatter in the arid dirt and grasses as he reaches for the collaspable spear at his back. Almost simultaneous, as the weapon flicks out into its full length, does he draw his destrier up alongside the same Hostile that had been slashing at both him and his horse with its massive sword.

One has to admit, after such a devastating blow to the chest from his mace, and the state the Hostile already looked like it was in, the fact that it's still standing and still looking for a fight makes Flint pause only for a moment. "Damn…well done." he observes. But it's respect for an enemy that quickly is set aside, before that mace is swung again, looking to finish off this one once and for all. Respect is good, so long as you don't get sidetracked by it.

"No problem! Sorry I couldn't grab the other one…" Asking Tal to grab a Poleaxe would be an exercise in comedy and tragedy. Okay, then. Time to get back to business. Her aura flares a little more and it's time to deal with Hostiles who kick people when they're down. She has just enough time to start casting and notice that Alexis has fallen. She's going to cast and move that way. Or just move, depending on how well her brain works for this moment. Talayla is castin' and moving after, it seems, towards Alexis.

In the depths of the camp, a sharp electronic squealing starts to shriek. Another shriek joins it, and then, there is the sound of a human woman's sharp and painful scream.

Nikomachos slams into the second group of Hostiles with equal fury, fiery holographic wings blasting forth from his shoulders once more as he plants his lance in another Hostile's chest. A long blade glances off his shield as he comes pounding through, and then a spear catches him at the side of the head, driving up under the lip of his helm and sending a wave of blood flowing from his split scalp. The impact is enough to cause him to drop his lance, leaving it jutting out of the torso of the Hostile it pierced. Wheeling Erinye about, he shakes his head, trying to clear it. Blood begins to flow down his right shoulder as he rips his sword from its sheath, looking around for his sister at Erik's cry. Spotting the pair, he tries to force his destrier back toward them through his siblings, only to be stymied by a pair of Hostiles blocking his way.

Kassandra's lance is deflected off of the armor of her target, and instead she receives in the center of her chest a blow so powerful that it flings her from the back of her destrier. Platinum Prince, knowing well that a downed rider is gone for the duration, dances away from the combat. Kassie hits the ground with a thud, groaning loudly as the impact causes a brief lance of pain arcs through her ribcage. But there isn't time to lay around moaning like a little girl, and so she rolls to her feet and yanks her axe free from her side while reporting in with a loud and angry "Motherfuckers!"

Agnes rolls out of the way of the angry Hostile's strike at her. "Winnie, full aggressor," she barks to her AI. The hard light shield on her arm winks out as the grip of her sword extends its length to become a two-handed weapon. She goes back to back with Viannea, and swings the giant blade at the nearby Hostile.

As soon as Johana draws back her blade, she joins it with the other hand and uses both to swing towards the head of the Hostile. When she manages to strike, she growls her approval and moves nearer, again trying to push the Hostile back as she continues attacking, her blade merciless in her attack.

Finding no one in need of immediate rescue, Anabethe keeps her attention on the Hostile at hand. In the moment it took her to search, though, it's had time to pull back and deliver a powerful blow that takes the Khournas heir somewhat by surprise. There's a cracking sound from her chest plate, and as she stumbles back, her return strike catches only air. Coughing, she braces herself back on one foot to press forward again, forcing up a grin. "That the best you've got? Gotten worse from the Wall in a ring."

Michael dances to the side of the bludgeon, man his stomach hurts but he doesn't care. Vi is next to him, and it bolsters his confidence to keep at the attack. "I'm already making my way to her!" he calls back Vi as he brings his sword in a black sweeping arc across the hostile's arm possibly hitting something that causes the thing to lose what grip it had on life and it crumple to the floor. He flashes a grin to Vi, though his visor blocks it from view and he's off only to come face to face with a friend from the charge.

Aelewen seeing Viannea move in to attack the hostile shifts aim to another. Her AI mutters all kinds of things in her ear about trajectories and windage and so on and so forth, but the older Arboren ignores most of them as she considers targets. At last she finds one, drawing the string back and firing then reloading in one smooth motion, a faintly feral smile crossing her face as she notes Viannae put the hostile down.

Ah. How many times has Vi and her aunt wound up fighting back to back in the past? More than a few times without a doubt and Agnes' standing like that now has her smiling. "Sorry I fell off of my horse," she wheezes, her breath catching slightly as one of her injured ribs twinges slightly. Viannea grits her teeth before setting upon a new target, one that's well within sword's range. Michael's words and departure has her shaking her head but that smile she has behind her helm just keeps growing more.

Swinging the blade for the Hostile, Sammel frowns as his attack bounces off the enemy's abdomen, just as the enemy's blade bounces off his own neck. "Okay, a bit too close. Stand still so I can smack you a bit…" he says towards the Hostile, before he hears Kassandra's loud and angry word. "You tell them, Kassie," he offers in return now.

Aidan frowns as his shot goes wide and he asks his AI for an update on wind velocity. Adjusting his aim slightly, he fires again at the one attack his family.

Billows of black robes move through the camp as a pair of Priests and a cluster of soldiers become evident. A Priest release a shriek, blasting a divot out of the ground several meters in front of the assaulting Valen. One of the soldiers in this particular squad appears to be holding something limp in its arms.

This time finishes that Hostile. Flint's bar mace bites deep into the stomach(or what passes for a Hostile stomach), doubling it over. "You fight well. Find your end." Pulling the mace free, he brings it down again atop of the Hostiles bent over head, turning into a pulpy mass. Looking forward, that's when he blinks, seeing the Hostile with a crossbow taking a bead on him, as an alert from his HUD. "Ah, shit." Then he starts a mad dash forward, bringing his mace as it least some kind of protective measure.

Nikomachos urges Erinye forward into the face of the two Hostiles trying to circle him, the warhorse kicking out at the one with the sword as Niko clashes with the spear-armed Hostile. Parrying a thrust at his face easily, he puts his weight into a chopping slash that tears down into the Hostile's shoulder, then kicks it free of his blade, letting it fall onto its back with the haft of his lance sticking straight up into the sky. Dealing with that Hostile takes just a touch too much of his attention, and the sword-armed one gets through, but Erinye twists sideways, robbing the blow of some of its power so that the sword rings off the knight's leg. "We've got Priests incoming!" Niko spurs his destrier forward, trying to knock the sword-armed Hostile out of the way so that he can come to the support of his near siblings, "Still hanging in there, Sir Lionel?"

The tip of Lionel's spear slices through the sinew-like plates that make up the neck armor of the soldier. Red blood trickles down the length of the spear, and that sight always surprises him. They bleed blood. At Nikomachos's call however, Lionel looks around sharply and his gaze drops on the billowing priests and their soldier compliment.

The youngest Valen is definitely out of it tonight, a combination of being too aggressive and also not entirely focused causing him to just barely miss the targets. Before he can continue to help his sister with the Elite brute, movement at the Hostile encampment catches his eyes and either with his sharp eyes or enhancement from his helm, he catches sight of the Priests and Soldiers. The Valen is unable to believe his eyes but he reacts immediately, spurring Havok on to engage that particular group, "Fucking abominations, how dare you!" Profanity, a rarity from Erik who is usually very well composed and proper.

Alexis is working hard enough to just stay standing, her shield sort of vaguely held in front of her but not braced given the bolt lodged in her hand, helmet half torn open. Seeing with one eye at least that nobody is targetting her she does then hop forward bringing her sword in an overhand blow down at the Hostile that dismounted her, comm still silent as she grits her teeth and fights through the resulting stab of agony.

Kassandra swears again as her attack bounces off of armor, and it appears she is doomed to never landing killing blows this battle. Her eyes widen as the Hostile brings around its own weapon to attack, but its slow swing gives her ample time to jump back out of the way. Sweat rolls down her forehead, and she squeezes her eyes shut for a moment to blink it away. When she opens them, a sound call draws her gaze away to spot the Priests, and she gasps loudly. "Priests incoming, and they have a kid. Erik! They've got someone's kid!" But before she can shout out much more, another Hostile closes in and engages her.

"We'll work on your riding techniques next week," Agnes threatens lightly to Viannea. She might be smiling, but it's not visible beneath her helm. Then she is bringing her greatsword down on the head of the Hostile and splitting its skull. It manages to strike her left hand, leaving a gash in her gauntlet which wells with blood. "Onward!" she calls to her niece and nephew, beginning to move carefully across the plain to the next group of hostiles.

Again, Anabethe and her Hostile opponent trade blows, though this time it's the Khournas who gets the better of the encounter. Though the Hostile's blow forces her to catch her breath, she drives forward once more, digging the blade of her halberd deeper into the gouge in the Hostile's chest plate, digging for something vital before stepping back to make room for others.

With the help of two others, Johana watches another Hostile go down and she looks around.. nothing! So she looks ahead and begins running in the direction of the next group of Hostiles, another war cry echoing as she approaches the next group.

Michael makes it to where Johana is fighting, and throws a swing at it. The only reason it didn't make better purchase would be on account of the bolt now through his shoulder on his shield side. He lurches forward and ends up rolling, only to grit his teeth and stand up. "Aaaagh!" he gets out as he turns and falls in next to Johana as she runs towards the next wave of enemies.

"C'mon, Whoops." Talayla is shaking. Her stomach feels like it's made of lead, but brains. Brains don't fail me now. She's unaware of what's going on with the Priest just yet. She was watching out after Sammel, and there's some relief as a sea horse made of water spouts a bit of water at a Hostile. Her spells seem awfully water and icey. Odd. But the blast of water crushes the Hostile's throat, and she seems relieved that between her and Sammel, they smashed the Hostile. Whoops is a fairly ordinary looking steed, brown, with a black blaze on his face and near his hooves. But he seems nimble, despite his derped out expression. She looks worried, seeing Michael injured, too. The one that took a shot at him is in her sights now.

Again the faintest of smiles cross Aelwen's face under her armor as she watches her new target go down with her arrows sticking in him. Watching several folks descend on the last Hostile in range she slowly begins to circle around and closer. He lean form moves carefully, holding an arrow nocked as she slips from cover to cover to get closer, eyes scanning all about.

"There we go." Aidan murmurs as the Hostile goes down. Only one left in this group and he's about to take aim when Agnes announces her intention to advance. With Viannea following her, he sits back in his saddle and sets Obsidian into motion so he can keep covering them. There's enough still on foot to tke down the last enemy.

Alexis staggers forward, swinging her sword for one of the remaining hostiles without huge effect, then wincing and flicking her none blood blinded eye to her flickering HUD. Slamming the weapon frustratedly back into her scabbard she then limps across to retrieve her axe before starting to furiously if not terribly swiftly head further toward the camp. "This is Knight Lieutenant Alexis, my HUD is damaged and I am badly injured. Requesting status report." Her voice is terse and obviously pained, and cuts out afterward, a muffled cry of pain eminating from her helmet as she yanks the bolt from her left hand.

The scream and the announcement of the priest has Viannea distracted but she doesn't falter in her attack, how the damnable Hostile moves getting her to swear. Thankfully for it her aunt tells them to move on otherwise it just mind find itself with her leaping upon it like a rabid animal. "Am with you," she announces so Agnes knows she'll know she is not falling behind when their aunt begins to move onward.

Managing to get a relatively good hit in on the Hostile, Sammel manages to avoid getting hit now. But then he sees the thing goes down with the help of Talayla's whateveritis. "Thanks, Guardian Angel," he offers to her, before he moves in to help taking down the one Anabethe's dancing with. Time tr crush it now.

The approach of the Valen knight just seems to delight — do they feel delight? — the Hostile bearing the swaddled human toddler. It catches the attack on its gauntlet arm, then pushing back on the young Valen knight to bring his own weapon to bear. The toddler is limp in the soldier's arms.

Nikomachos slams his hard light shield into the Hostile bothering him from the side, keeping it at bay, even as he drives Erinye up and between the larger Hostile and his sister, "Erik!" He can't look now, however, because he's in the fight of his young life, desperately trying to keep the Hostiles around him off both himself and his sister, "Gods-damn it, people, where's our support?"

Lionel notices the Valen start moving forward and he wheels his horse around just as the Priests come into view. "Fuck all," he hisses as he readjusts his hold on the spear. Alexis's questions though draws his head around as if trying to take a quick stock of the situation. "Two priests incoming, five or more soldiers, we have a hostage situation. Support needed ahead."

Kassandra grits her teeth as she hefts her axe in her left hand, going for the Hostile with a crossbow. It catches air as the enemy dodges her swing, sending her forward with the momentum. The move disrupts her balance enough that she cannot bring up her shield in time, and she lets out a cry of dismay as its companion soldier's weapon rings against her helmet, causing it to dislodge just enough that her cheek and jaw on the right side are opened and begin bleeding. The pain is enough that she dare not speak, but the virulent red is visible as it leaks out over her once pristine white and gold armor. But she isn't down yet - yet - and she stumbles before regaining her footing, turning to attack the Hostile that has just hit her.

One thing that the youngest Valen is, is that he is bold and perhaps a little reckless due to his boldness. Some would call it courageous, others would call it stupidity, but whatever it is, Erik remains engaged with the hostile using the human babe as a hostage. This time though he doesn't swing his blade, apparently taking great care not to harm the baby but needing to down the Hostile. Patience is hardest when an impending blow is coming but the Valen is focused now.

Flint all but runs past the Hostile with the crossbow once it's fired it's shot but stops short while feeling the dig a little into his armor before the rest glances away. There's a moment of hesitation on wether or not head to the front line, beyond the urge that that's where he should be. But there doesn't seem to be anyone on the one with the crossbow, so, for the moment, that's what he'll focus on. Pulling his mace back, he'll bring it down in a horizontal arc while still trying to maintain a defensive posture for the moment. Crossbows have never been his thing.

Shrieking blasts of energy cut through the air, laying grasses flat under the sheer acceleration of those sound waves. One slams straight into the Valen's chest while the other's sends what is probably at the very least a sharp pressure through Flint's. The other Hostiles continue their advance, moving with deliberate and purposeful steps toward the other groups.

When Johana notices that Michael was running beside her, she also takes note of the bolt and frowns. "You need medical care." But yeah, she's not enforcing that about now. Instead, she reaches the next group of Hostiles about then and raises her sword, prepared to slash at one of them, nearest her.

"Squires, I want the half dozen oldest of you to prepare to extract casualties and be ready to fight." Alexis' voice is composed and level again following that cut out as her AI blocked her being less than coherent. "Archers and Lady Talayla, please advance as soon as possible then concentrate fire on the priests." Limping furiously forward she then punctuates the 'please' by swinging her axe for one of the crossbow-robots.

Agnes moves towards one of the missile throwing Hostiles, keeping close to Viannea. "Ranged attackers first." She sweeps her greatsword at another head, since she doesn't have much trouble reaching it with her height.

"Got a stubborn one here," Anabethe grunts to Sammel as the Valen knight shows up to lend a hand, the Hostile's attack pinging off her cracked armor this time as she jumps back to rob the blow of strength. Instead of focusing on center mass, she turns her focus to disabling the attacker, hitting his arm. "Have to keep him off their backs and clean up back here before we figure out what the hell is going on there."

Michael replies, "More than just the bolt, but I'll be fine until this is over sir." he finds the bastard who shot him and takes up his sword into an angered stance. Thoughts racing through his mind and he cracks a smile inside his helmet.

Aidan, being mounted, outpaces his aunt and sister briefly so he can manage to find a target ahead of them. Once in range though, he reins in Obsidian and lets those on foot pass so he can stay toward the back where his bow is best put to use. Seeing one of the crossbows start to bear on him, it'll be a race to see who gets the other first.

"Understood, Sir Agnes." Vi finds it easy to follow Agnes' orders with little pause and she is quick to discover one of those with a bow or some similar weapons. The closest one is who she swings for.

"You and your pets," Sammel replies a bit lightly to Anabethe, as he hits the Hostile. "Hey you, can you just go down? She doesn't want you to follow her around like that," he says in the Hostile's direction, before he attacks, a bit more aggressively this time.

Armor is a boon and a bane, depending upon who is wearing it. Talayla is seizing her value in helping with ranged combat. She seems annoyed, tensing in fear as the blast of ice simply cracks and falls, stopped by armor. More spells, she needs more spells. There's some energy in there, right? She was chasing after one of the crossbow users, but - but then she hears Lady Alexis' axe her to move forward and take aim at the priest. "Okay, Whoops, we're okay," They're okay. Her mind is dazed, but concentrating to cast is keeping her together. Whoops is mercifully a nimble, if completely zonked looking steed. Do steeds and their owners ever resemble one another? Sometimes. But for now, that PRiest is in her sights.

Lionel tastes copper on his tongue, and can only wonder for a moment if he has managed to slice open the interior of his cheek again as he fights through the slowly growing pain. He does not seem to relent however, continuing to push his destrier through the chaos while also stabbing his spear through the remainder of the Hostile brood.

Nikomachos was expecting to face two Hostiles, and face them he does, continuing to fend off the sword-wielding one with his shield — and the attention of his noble steed — while he does his best to draw the attention of the big Hostile — and draw its attention he does, taking a mace to the ribs with a pained grunt even if it doesn't crack his armor. In response, he slips the point of his sword through the Hostile's defenses, thrusting it into the creature's throat and drawing it out red — redder — with blood. And then the wave of shrieking sound washes over his back, rattling him in his armor and doing its best to turn his insides to jelly. A wordless shout, not shy of a scream, rips its way up his throat, and the knight rocks forward in his saddle, "Good Gods," he gasps, his voice horse.

With a slight nudging of his horse, Havok, Erik manages to evade the brunt of the strike from the Hostile using the babe as a shield. It still cuts through his Aggressor Armor but like on the moon Niveus, it only penetrated lightly. However, with a steadier hand this time, the young Valen strikes again, this time attempting to hamstring the Hostile. If it has hamstrings.

Kassandra grunts as her axe makes contact with the Hostile, and although it does not go down, she does not have time to chase its ass and finish it off. Instead, as a sword arcs out of nowhere and slips behind her axe and shield to make a dent in her chestplate, the force of the blow causes another, sharper jolt of pain through Kassie's body. Whatever was fractured is probably broken cleanly, and that combined with the loss of blood causes her to stagger sideways. She regains her footing, barely, and wheels about, peering through her HUD at the sword-wielding Hostile. The girl is more cautious now, raising her shield to protect her as she shifts her weight to balance on both feet. "I'm—I'm bleeding a lot," she whispers through gritted teeth, and although it might be barely audible on the comm, the commentary was meant purely to remind herself of her own mortality.

One advanced of pre-scouting is you can spot all the good cover and/or hiding places. Looking almost as home on the plains as she is in the woods Aelewen flits foward silently, moving to a firing position and trying to be at one with the grass as she aims down the arrow towards the milling hostiles. Close eyes, soft prayer, release just as her eyes open.

If there's one thing that Flint doesn't like, it's taking on more than one enemy at a time. Of course, he'll do it, but that means he doesn't have to like it. The…whatever the preist attacked him jarrs him enough to get his attention, but not enough to injure, even if it felt a bit weird to him. Unnatural. And while he missed his swing on the one with the crossbow, he sees another one coming at him, in his way between him and priest. Growling under his breath, he renews the grip in his mace, and moves forward to face the next Hostile, swinging infront of him. He really like to aim for the hips.

"I'd take it home," Anabethe muses to Sammel, in the midst of the fight. Because apparently Khournas get mouthy around Hostiles. Once more the Hostile's blow isn't enough to penetrate her armor, and again she manages to score a line, this time drawing blood across its temple and down its ugly little Hostile face. "For research. Turnabout's fair play, right?"

The Hostile Agnes descends on fires off a bolt, but her gorget blocks the missile, bouncing harmless off. Her blade comes down on its head, and blood spurts out as she nearly cleaves its skull. She is as silent as the grave and completely focused on the task at hand, spinning around for momentum for a follow-up blow.

Not having any luck of her own Vi takes to focusing on those her aunt targets, giving up on being a hero and deciding to go with that one as well. Nothing fancy, nothing pretty. Just a hack job she hopes helps.

PING. Aelwen's arrow glances off the hostile's armor. Better move. So the Arboren shimmies away, moving with impressive stealth through the camp, aging joints still flowing smoothly as she is up into a firing position and sighting down on another hostile. Breath in. Hold. Loose.

Seeing people she knows and likes falling like this… troubles Talayla. Witnessing it. It's going to bother her. Later. For now, she swallows the fear and voice in the back of her head that reminds her that she is /very squishy/, /glowing/ and the sensible thing is to run screaming. But Talayla ignores that voice pretty often, given she's focused and fearless when working on a project, brew or finding a rare fish or plant. So it's more of the usual, proving that Darwinism is more for people doing backflips with Hostiles and icky light beers. But you know. There's a sort of wrenching contrast. A sadness in all of the goofiness. What she's doing is very serious. And it's hard to keep the tears away. For now, another ice wolf bounds, leaving a trail of ice for a moment and chomping onto the priest's hand. Crunch!

Michael slashes across the thing's chest, cutting light. Then from the side comes another attack into his abdomen that knocks him to his knees. He lets out a prayer, just as Vi's words come through, and he stands back up. He shield fades as he places both hands on his sword hilt and prepares to strike again.

"Bastard." Aidan growls as he takes the crossbow bolt directly to his chest. That hurt. He's going to be bruised tomorrow. He rises in his stirrups, drawing back on his bow and aiming at the one that tagged him. He winces a bit at the motion; hopefully it didn't break a rib.

Alexis limps forward, blood running across her purple and gold armour and motions jerky with her head angled a little to the side as she uses her unblocked eye and the unshattered half of her visor to see. Despite that she lands a solid strike with her axe slicing through composite plating before carrying away from the crossbow-Hostile red with blood, she maintains the offensive as she slams in behind her shield drawing a pained sound then staps with the top of the blade.

Now that's a different kind of pain that Flint clearly wasn't expecting. But this is what you get when nobody has encountered Hostiles in so long. They get new tricks. And that just so happens to the one that hasn't read up on all much. So while he's able to deflect away the blow that was coming for him, he wasn't able to get out of the way of…well, whatever it was that hit him. "I'm going to enjoy killing him." the Grantham mutters, before winding up to take another swing on the he's currently tangling with. Prorities and all.

From within the camp, other human screams are heard. Some are starting to chant for help, others are just wailing as if suffering through unbearable pain.

Nikomachos is lashed by another wave of screeching sound, sending him shaking and twitching in his seat. This time, he cannot even cry out, as the ripping, shredding feeling is focused entirely on his throat. Despite being knocked almost sideways, he manages to keep his seat by pure instinct alone, riding it out like the blast of a lance in a tilt. Blinking to clear his vision and finding that he is still alive, still a-horse, and still in the midst of a fight, he blocks a sweep of one Hostile's sword with his shield, and sweeps his sword at the leg of one of the Hostiles about him, cutting through its armor as he hauls himself back upright. Red has now washed down over most of his right shoulder and part of his back, and more of it speckles his lips, brought up by his deep breaths.

Her swing was not as powerful as she had hoped and Johana growls again when she only manages to marginally slash across the abdomen of the attacking Hostile. In doing so, she manages to avoid getting hit herself, but beside her, Michael goes down. Only when she sees him getting back up, she offers words of encouragement. "Remember we talked of what to fight for, why we do this. Focus on that.."

Things do not go as planned or as well for Erik as his blow is once more dodged though in turn, he also dodges the Hostile's attack against him. He was going to take it careful again but soon enough he hears the jarring scream for help and also pain. This causes the youngest Valen to perhaps be a little more reckless and rushed.

A grunt of happiness - because yes, even wounded Kassie can be happy - sounds over the family comm as her axe makes contact with the Hostile's neck. Despite the presence of armor, the blade cuts through enough to damage the jerkface, and that is good enough for her. Her celebration is cut short, as its sword darts out faster than expected and thunks against the undamaged portion of her helmet. The blade manages to slip beneath the lip and slice alongside her neck, shallow enough to not be a killing blow but still drawing a garbled cry from the young Valen. But it's an angry cry, and she's not done yet. She readies her axe for another go-round with the same enemy, but her heart lurches in her chest at the sound of the screams. "Gods," she wheezes, longing so much for a chance to lay down and rest.

The Hostile bearing the human child perhaps is finding a bit too much amusement in the young Valen. "Here," it says suddenly, in that deep and yet somewhat raspy voice. It literally throws the child at Erik, and the swaddled babe makes an abrupt cry at the gesture, the noise a bit wet perhaps due to a lot of snot and tears. "You take this." And then the Hostile brings up the bludgeon, the haft extending as it grasps it with both hands.

The babe is alive and Erik reacts immediately, catching baby with his hand that was holding the reins. Now he has to trust his horse, Havok, to not start and throw him off while he swings his blade to perhaps get some distance from the Hostile.

"This is Sir Erik Cindravale to any available medics or units, I have baby hostage secured but still engaged. Need relief." Erik calls out on the open frequency to the other warriors by him. He is hoping that a medic is available or someone who could take the child from him as fighting with a baby in his arm while mounted is not the safest thing to do. For baby or the knight.

Aelewen's expression darkens as more and more of the younger folks take grevious wounds "Fuck it" she says to herself then moves out of cover to take full aim down at the hostiles. A feral snarls crosses her lips, far from her usual calm patience as Momma Bear goes into full effect "Fuck you" she calls out over the speakers of her armor.

Alexis keeps hammering at the Hostile in front of her, largely blind to the larger situation with her HUD simply shutting down and working on the view through her crack crazed visor and one eye. Unable to really use footwork at all she just stands in front of the Hostile with her shield held awkwardly in front of her while she hammers at the thing with her axe… And fails to make any impact. Gritting her teeth she repeats the process.

Agnes swings hard, nearly removing the Hostile's arm as her head snaps towards the sounds of screaming. "We need to move faster!" she calls over the command comm. Luckily the crossguard of the blade deflects another Hostile's 'greatsword strike at her wounded hand. She brings her weapon back up to stave him off and tries to stab him in the face.

Michael uses both of his hands, his anger, and his momentum to drive his blade into the thing's chest. It doesn't go as deep as he'd hoped it would but he pulls back for another go at it as an arrow comes from behind him and glances his target, then a hammer swings passed him and thuds into the creature's chest plating without doing enough. He hears the call for relief and tries to determine if he can help.

The advantage of fighting someone with a crossbow: they need time to reload. But once his target has reloaded, Aidan starts fighting a bit more defensively again as he releases another arrow at the Hostile.

"Still locked up here," Anabethe grunts across the comm to Erik's request, swaying back out of the reach of the Hostile's mace. "Look, buddy, I've got other places to go!" Both hands firm on her halberd, she slices across the Hostile's neck, drawing more blood.

Be brave, be brave, be brave. Talayla really wants to just bolt and run, but on hearing those screams and chants… well. She owes it to the peeps without spellslinging powers or stabby bits or huge muscles to help. She's tangling at range with that Priest and he gets payback for his hand, it seems. She sends a spell off after the Priest, one of her Leviathans, whooshing through the air. It goes a bit wide and the Priest gets payback. Talayla coughs and winces. It stings! "Ow… Hey, we're okay, Whoops!" Time for payback. Hopefully. Hostiles who throw babies are clearly awful folks.

Viannea hears Erik's request but can't exactly get to him, her own efforts still needing to be spent on fighting, leaving the babysitting to someone less engaged. Her sword lifts and is swung downward, hoping to cleave a Hostile in half.

Nikomachos opens his mouth to respond to Kassandra's wheezing words, but no sound comes from his ravaged throat, and tears well up in his eyes, nearly blinding him as he continues to clash with the pair of Hostiles around him. His sword does not find purchase, and a sword-blow slips past his shield to clatter off his greave, but then there are more Havenites around them, and he lets out a rasping cough of relief. He drives Erinye forward, trying to finally drop the big bastard he's been fencing with for some time, forcing a pained whisper past his lips, "Finally, the infantry is here, the cavalry's saved." Underneath the ripped-throat agony, there is a thread of dry amusement.

The cries for help do not diminish but only seem to get louder. They are fueled by wordless screams. Someone starts to scream as loud as they can that, "They are killing her!"

The Hostile that is engaged with Erik has decided this is a far better way to engage, throwing its flat-faced weapon forward as if trying to frighten his horse while also advancing close enough to possibly catch his leg with its bludgeon.

Flint is going to need a need mace head with the way he's swinging this thing around. When the Ash Knight brings down his weapon, it's lodged in the neck of the Hostile, while admittedly leaving himself for a shot to the chest himself. But it was something that was clearly worth it, as the result looks to weigh more in his favor. "You're already dead, you just don't know it yet." he spits out, seeing the blood gush from the newly opened wound. Even the shot from the priest is shrugged off. For now. Pulling his weapon, he swings again, trying to finish it off this time.

With two on her now, Johana grips her blade and goes into a more defensive stance, hoping to attack and defend at the same time to stop any more damage. In her immediate vicinity, she attempts to keep an eye on Michael, but she hears the call over the comm about a.. baby? And Erik?

Lionel snorts at Nikomachos cry, though he gives his mane — yes, there's a mane connected to that leonine helm — a bit of a toss. He swings his spear around as he draws his horse up against the opposite side of his Hostile target, attempting to thread the weapon through a gap in the enemy's armor.

The pound of the sword against her chest is not enough to cause Kassie to stumble, so she manages to swing her axe around in response. It's not much of a hit, and even Kassandra can guess that her axe doesn't pound against the Hostile's chest quite as hard as it could - but much to her surprise, the sack of meat-and-cybernetics drops to ground in front of her. It would be time to cheer, except for the fact that another Hostile will likely close in and take its place. She whirls about with shield up, looking for another target, and picking one that is within range she advances carefully. Now is not the time to go crazy, not when her boots are slipping in over bloody grass.

"On my way sir, hold on!" Michael calls over the comm in reponse to Erik and drops into a full sprint.

Anabethe and her Hostile opponent must be well-matched, for they're dancing around each other still. As the battle moves forward, the pair are locked in combat, and this time there's a dizzying trade of blows, neither of which finds its target. If this was a tournament, no doubt the audience would be impressed. As this is a battle, ain't nobody got time for that shit.

Michael races at full sprint to where Erik is, coming up behind his horse. "I'm here sir, quickly now!" he doesn't have time for protocol, he needs to relieve the knight so he can fight at his fullest. If Erik hands over the babe, he'll tuck it into his arms and sprint like all hell to get it away from the combat. Then he'll pass it off and get back into the fray.

And ignoring all her training and the training she gives others it looks like getting angry has paid off for Aelewen. For as she grits her teeth to bite back curses she yanks the bow back and releases it with another few muttered curses about the Hostiles improbable ancestry. And as if reacting to her anger the arrow flies true and right through the creatures head, embedding deeply. Forcing herself to take a breath she turns and aims again, anger still raging through her as more of the young folks get injured.

Agnes' blade bounces off the Hostile's armored head, and he replays her for her rudeness by stabbing through her breastplate, through her chest, and out her backplate. She chokes out a sound over the comm, as blood bubbles into her lungs, and slides back off the creature's sword. It's a bad wound, she knows it's bad, but she continues to fight on, the screams of the hostages spurring her onward. She rasps out, "Winnie, defense mode." Her shield comes back up and her sword grip shortens to a one handed weapon. She swings at the Hostile's arm in front of her, too injured to aim higher.

Alexis's repeated hammering has more success this time, her blade biting through the armour, then the thing falling though probably not mostly from her efforts. Stagginer a little she then takes a moment to open her visor with the thing requiring definite assistance from the rim of her hard light shield to comply. Blinking in the light she starts to head for one of the already engaged Hostiles only to whirl as she sees one bearing for her. Still apparently not in any condition to really raise her shield she settles for meeting the incoming foe with gritted teeth and her entire weight behind the edge of her axe.

Not the shins! Right in the shin! Ow! Talayla's bravery is stinging! It's practically a mystical slap fight. Her eyes water, despite them being white from her casting and aura and what have you. Whoops is holding up admirably, though. Him and his darn HFP. She's determined to knock him over, but her choices are limited with that armor of his. Still, like a guppy attacking a shark, she chips away at him. She seems to be favoring ice against this fellow, a small dragon taking another bite out of his hand.

It what would've been a finishing blow, the one that Flint is fighting may of lured him into a feint, giving the Grantham the impression that he was going to finish it. Not so, as there's still fight left it in, swinging out it's own mace at the Ash Knight. There's just enough time to cancel the attack and move backward, but not enough to get clipped again. The good news is that the angle of his body prevented any real damage that the priest is dishing out. So luck is looking out for him again. "We're gonna be doing this all day, eh?" Another swing across the horizontal axis, trying to crush the creatures's midsection.

Hearing someone responding and acknowledging his request for assistance, Erik exchange blows with the Hostile yet again though this time he takes a blow to the leg, Havok turning just in time so that it is a glancing blow that does no real harm to its knight. But it also throws his own swing off balance, the blade sweeping and missing. With a growl, the young Valen spits out, "Fuck off, Hostile!" And instead of attacking again, Erik fights to buy time. With a hard nudge with his legs, his warhorse is well trained enough to understand and lashes out, using his muscular neck to swing back and actually club at the invading abomination. This knocks the Hostile away, buying the Valen enough time to see the Ibrahm squire.
"The fuck did you do to my armor!" He exclaims as he passes the babe off to the squire but instead of turning to fight the Hostile again, he actually dismounts quickly. "Get on Havok and ride to safety, protect that babe with your life and see to your wounds." The tone a commanding one, that would brook no arguments.

Yes, that's the way it's done. A nice fletching amulet in the middle of the chest. One more enemy down, Aidan looks around for a new target and spots the one attacking his aunt. No-brainer.

A primal scream of rage tinnily roars from Viannea who is finally able to fell the one opponent despite taking another hit to her chest, the ribs that were already sore before positively throbbing now. She turns towards their aunt just in time to see her aunt hit. It is worrisome in and of itself but then she hears that wet quality to the Lady Knight's voice that truly causes her to worry. "Aidan! Try to keep them off of Sir Agnes," she instructs her brother harshly, there being no time for niceness. Not when she has to keep fighting and moving.

Kassie's axe misses wildly as she slips on the grass, and yet the Hostile in front of her goes down like a sack of bricks. For a moment she feels like dancing, thinking maybe the whoosh of air from her epic fail caused the Hostile's head to implode or something, but the sight of an arrow protruding from an eyesocket is enough to quell her feelings of badassery. Damn it. Turning again, she spies Nikomachos, and she surges forward with shield up and axe ready to help her older brother pick off another enemy..and also, to be closer to him lest she need saving from herself.

And the arrival of the foot-borne fighters allows Nikomachos to focus his attention on just a single enemy. That doesn't help so much, however, when your neck and chest are burning with every movement. He manages to parry the mace of the Hostile he's still fighting, and even strike home with a blow to its chest, but the slash is robbed of most of its power. Mustering his senses to force himself to speak through his bleeding throat, he rasps out, "Kassie… can you take this one? They're killing captives…"

Michael uses his sword arm to hoist himself onto the horse, grunting under the pain but saying nothing else. He takes the reins and steers the mount away from the fight. He doesn't want out of this yet, but the child's life comes first. He'll respond over the comm when the babe's safe.
Sammel has connected.

The Mane is rewarded a sharp ding to his armor as he full out misses his target. He lifts his head slightly as he hears the screams, and it only fuels his need. He feels his own recklessness take hold, and he releases a sharp growl as he stabs out at the Hostile once more.

Johana manages to get another good hit in and as the fourth hostile falls at her blade, and with the help of others. Moving on with methodical movements, she foes back to aggressive, to try and take out the next one as Michael helps rescue the baby.

It's for naught, as the Greatsword bearing Hostile is too strong for Agnes in her wounded state. He strikes another blow to her stomach, and her own swing goes wide. Her only thought is that she promised Emund that she would come back from this war alive, and here she is, getting herself spitted like a pig for roasting. She grits her teeth and presses on, trying to stab the creature anywhere that can be reached.

"Go," Kassandra growls through clenched teeth, and the command is followed up by a gasp of pain. Light-headed, the young Valen tightens her grip on her axe, keeps her shield up and close to her body, and circles around the Hostile whose attention was once turned upon her brother but will now focus on her. From the corner of her HUD, Kassie can see Nikomachos as he turns his mount and heads toward the priests. That's all the notice she gives to anyone outside of the enemy before her, and her attention shifts back to the wounded Hostile. She twirls her axe once in an act of defiant showmanship, and when it draws close enough for her to attack without breaking her shielded stance, she swings for it with a loud, furious cry.

Aelewen snarls as her arrow bounces off the armor again. She takes a deep breath and schools her mind to calm, closing her eyes a moment as she seeks to find her centre in the mix of the swirling melee. All retreats around her mentally as her eyes open and she focuses on the one attacking the Bear, shifting her aim she murmers a prayer and looses.

Alexis continues to hammer her axe into her chosen victim, sort of pressing her shield into the Hostile in question then stabbing past it with the wickedly sharp top of her axe blade. Focused as she is that leaves her quite exposed as a blast from one of the 'priests' catches her back and she wavers again at the agony before fighting through it. Still she does stagger back and barely keeps her awkward footing on the bloodied grass before then launching herself forward again with her good leg, entire weight behind the blade of her weapon.

The enemy numbers are being steadily widdled down but slowly and it has Vi's patience at it's end. Time to go for a bit of senseless hacking, starting with the nearest one that looks the most injured and then going from there, methodically.

"Vi, Agnes needs you!" Aidan moves his steed forward to get a better shot and that little red dot of his laser sight appears on the Hostile's chest.

When she manages to dodge a sword being slashed towards her, Johana clashes with that of the Hostile, though it saves her, it also aids in a failure to connect. Lifting her blade high, she aims for a direct lunge, meaning to impale through the armor of able, of the Hostile.

Anabethe roars as she presses toward the Hostile once more, taking a blow to the neck in exchange for getting close enough to nearly take the Hostile's hand off. Whether it's shock or just the final blow, the Hostile goes down, and the Khournas heir takes a breath to look over the field of battle. "I'm heading for the tents!" she calls across the comm, disengaged and making a run for it. Have to help those people. That's the whole point.

The attack was only partly successful on Flint's part. His mace did bite down on the Hostile, but the counterattack was more than his own. Not feeling too great at the moment, but, then again, from the looks of things, a lot of people proably aren't in the best of shape. And he needs to end this fight now, as soon as possible. Tightening his grip on his bar mace, he pulls back the weapon, then bringing it down like a miner brings down a hammer on a chunk of mineral ore to break it free.

With the babe handed off safely to the Ibrahm squire, Erik is able to turn back to the Hostile that had been knocked back by his warhorse. With a smirk and able to grip his bastardsword with both hands now, he advances boldly against the invader. "Now we fight on equal footing, you metal piece of shit." The growl comes from the helm and the Valen brings his blade up before bringing it down for a vicious slash.

Nikomachos sweeps his shield a little too wide as he leans down to slam his sword futilely into the Hostile's breastplate once more, and he catches a mace-blow inside his shield, on his left hand just as he's straightening up on his saddle from his own stroke. The impact almost pulls him out of his saddle the other way, and it shuts down his shield in a flicker of dying flames. Still, he nods painfully at Kassandra's response, wheeling his horse away. He heels Erinye, grimacing at the jolting of his innards and neck, and as he rides past the Hostile still impaled on his lance, he leans low in his saddle to tear it free. His shield flares back to life at a murmur to his AI, and he stays low, urging his horse toward the tents.

Talayla is still engaged in her slap fight with the priest. Mind you, it's a mystical-laser kind of slap fight, but lasers are half the battle, right? She is a quiet combatant, feeling a little stung from a couple of hits. But she's holding up and much as she'd like to help those screaming, leaving Mr. Priest alone here would be so bad. So she manages to avoid this one and call up another ice wolf. This time, the bolt manages to tear a bigger chunk out of the Priest's limb.
Lionel pages Anabethe and Nikomachos: despite the delay, I'll say you both get there close enough to the same time so I can do one pose instead of two.

"Good job," Sammel calls out to Anabethe, before he starts moving in the direction of where those remaining Hostiles are, trying to hurry over as best he can now.

Lionel pierces the armor, driving his spear deep within the flesh — or whatever it is — of the Hostile's shoulder. He feels some resistance, and yanks the spearhead free as it pulls with it sinew and blood. He draws his horse into a half-rear, causing the golden destrier to kick out its foot again as if to pronounce its own anger toward the still-standing soldier.

Michael maintains his full gallop to the hill cover from before. He hopes to meet up with the other squires there and pass off the babe so he can ride in again and continue to fight.

Aidan's cry for her to help their aunt has Vi on the run and swiftly. She doesn't even really notice how her sword glanced off of the Hostile's armor. She comes up just in front and to the side of Agnes, her sword swung. "I suggest you go off the field of battle," she huffs gruffly to Agnes, assuming a tone with her not unlike the one her aunt used to take with her a lot. She doesn't wait for the elder Peake to comply before she attacks.

Aelewen's arrow deflects up off the hostiles helm, flying off into the air to hopefully miss any passing wildlife. Her practiced hands move on auto-pilot, pulling an arrow, nocking it and aiming down again on the one still threatening Agnes. Breath. Hold. Release, her eyes opening to watch the arrow fly.

Agnes does the dance that is ingrained into her, as much instinct now as training. Her vision goes red as she slips under the Hostile's sword and stabs it in the throat, sadly bouncing off its armor once more. She turns and swings her sword around at the creature, the blade feeling heavier by the moment.

Alexis hammers at the Hostile in front of her again, bouncing her axe off armour, wincing audibly as the impact jars right back to her skull With her visor open and HUD broken she has limited awareness of what is going on but even with one eye working properly she is doing her best to try to keep aware of what is happening. Falling back behind her shield now she limps frantically across to FLint. Shield flickering out of life she reaches down to the knight's shoulder and tries to haul him back to his feet. "Keep going! Forward!" Her mangled and sliced open helm with blood drenched face might not be the best thing to wake back up to.

Once more, Johana takes a more defensive stance, watching the Hostile, waiting for him to make his move so that she might be able to counter and attack with another jab. Working him down, it seems to be slow going, but she makes no indication of giving up anytime soon.

The Hostile's weapon whiffs right by Kassandra as it swings, opening it up for a slice at the right hand. It pulls away just enough that when her axe makes contact, the blow doesn't land quite as heavily as she wants. Still, it's damage, and still it remains standing. She shifts her weight, pulling her shield in close and readies her weapon, waiting for it to dive and slip up again.

Hey! No zorching her arrow loving peeps. Talayla looks worried and horrified as the Priest turns to zot Aidan now. Stop that would you! Whoops and Talayla continue their assault. Well, Whoops is mostly doing the Horse thing but it's good enough. They have to end this soon. She's worried about the others and those people…

Michael doesn't slow down until he's reached the hills and finds a squire. "Take care of the child, and keep low. I'm heading back in, call for the medics to get their asses here we have serious wounded and hostages. Hurry!" his voice carries comman even though he himself isn't a knight. He turns the horse around and makes to ride back to the fight, he may be hurt but he's not going down. Vi's still out there, as if Johana, and Talayla. He's going to fight, and will take the punishment for disobeying later, they need him on the field. He opens a comm to Johana, "Sir the child is safely with the other squires, and medics have been called for. I'm on my way back."

The moment of impact, Flint won't recall that moment for a bit, all that he know is that he hit what he was looking at. Shame, since that's exactly what he got in return. Only harder. The Grantham skitters to a halt, bleary eyed, with Thanatos's automated voice blaring warnings to him. But admist all of that, there's the voice of Alexis that pulls him back from unconciousness. A sudden intake of breath before he realizes just where he is, even amist the ringing and defeaning noise in his head. Nevermind the pain that laces up and down his arm, he staggers himself up to his feet, taking ahold of his mace in what's like a surely broken hand. Nevermind that, the Ash Knight doesn't have time to bleed.

Another exchange of blows and Erik takes another wound, a light one again as it cuts through just enough of the battered armor on his left arm to cut skin. However, the counter blow by the young Valen's slash bashes hard against the Hostile's helmed head. Perhaps it felt like having a bell rang over his head but with the invader stumbling and falling back, the young noble knight seeks another target. He sees the Rovehn Knight being battered by two, Hostiles and turns to engage one, "Over here!" He calls, trying to get its attention.

The Hostile that had been engaged with Erik starts to step back, releasing a high pitched series of whirs, beeps, and squeals, which is responded in kind by one of the Priests. The soldier starts to back up, dropping into a defensive stance as it attempts to disengage with Erik. The other Hostiles keep fighting onward, attempting to drive back the Havenite force that just can't seem to stay down.

Nikomachos and Anabethe needn't search long for that tent that bears the screams and cries of their own kind. The cuboid tent's door is already ajar, allowing them to catch the terrible scent of copper and feces. When they pull back what is left of the door, it is just in time to see a Hostile soldier drive its spear through the belly of a captive, bodies of freshly killed prisoners already gathered in a pile at its feet. Those still alive scream out frantically as they see the humans, and it draws the Hostile's head upwars. Its eyes flare gold.

Passing fellow knights in danger goes against the grain, but so does leaving civilians to be slaughtered. Anabethe lowers her head and runs as hard as she can toward the source of that problem, catching up as Nikomachos works on getting off that cumbersome horse thing. True to the stereotypes of her people, the Khournas heir doesn't even hesitate when she gets through the door and sees the Hostile. She just charges, halberd swinging with a roar of rage.

Nikomachos's back is lashed by another shriek of high frequency sound, although it mostly plays across his back, rattling him in his saddle. He wobbles, he weaves, but he doesn't fall. Pulling up before the tent, he drives the point of his lance into the ground and slides out of his saddle with a grace born of long practice and not feeling the pain until his boots hit the ground. Looking over to Anabethe as she pounds up alongside him… and then past him, he draws his sword once more, staggering a moment, then coming up on the Khourni's right side where he can cover her with his shield as well. His ravaged throat may not be crying out with the rage that she's screaming, but he's only a half-step behind her, his sword thrusting low toward the thing's stomach.

Aidan's arm feels like it's been turned to jelly. Painful, jiggling jelly. Despite this, he managed to not just stay on his horse but to keep hold of his bow though he can barely hold it let alone keep it steady as he aims. He hooks it onto his saddle then calls forth his aura. The rodent-like field of energy surrounds him as the sclera of his eyes expand to their full whitness. A shield of energy appears by his unsteady left arm and his right hand makes a releasing gesture as a bird-shaped bolt of fire flies toward the hostile priest.

Michael spies Talayla's target priest still fighting her from a distance. It's focused on her so he'll take the surprise attack and leans forward in the saddle. His sword raising to it's mark it's intention.

Agnes is bled again, more wounds to her chest, but she stays on her feet, and manages to even bleed the Hostile a little this time. "There will always be more of us. And we do not stop, or give up. You cannot win this war!" she shouts to the creature with the greatsword.

Viannea doesn't speak. Not when her aunt has already done so and done so well. She instead just lets her sword do the talking for herself. She might not be able to damage the Hostile but she will at least make it know just how serious the Peakes truly are, especially when she sends her sword towards its torso.

Alexis keys her comm back on now, her voice laboured. "Sir Jacob is down, repeat Sir Jacob is down. Requesting extraction." As she speaks she limps toward the nearest of the priests with her shield flaring back into life but the main focus on a murderous vertical swing of her axe.

Aelewen barely notices her solid hit as she reaches down to her hip arrow bag and finding one arrow remaining in that container. Her frown is hidden by her armored helm as she nocks it and aims down into the swirling melee "Gods grant me your aim" she murmers, focusing and releasing again.

Hearing the voice over the comm, Johana doesn't argue, only replies back with a terse voice. "Then hurry it up." Of course he's done a good job in spite of his wounds, but it was not her job to coddle him and he was all the better for it. Managing to miss hitting the Hostile, it does manage to make contact with her chest again… aaaand again. Stumbling backwards a step with the blow, it only makes her forget to be defensive despite her armor on her helm warning of a near miss, there from something somewhere else in its sights. Wait, what? Two attacking her again? Awwhell. Too late now! She's swinging her blade once more.

Ugh. Talayla's head hurts from all of this casting and this /noise/ and these people all around. It's overwhelming to someone with social anxiety and seeing people hurt and - it's making her head spin. Dizzy for a moment, she's going to try to help some of the fallen. Flint is one of the nearer ones, and one of her dad's vassal peeps. She's going to try to help Flint up. "Um. Hey. Hey. Hey, um." Crap. "You can do it! I'm gonna poke you until you get up." Nudgenudge. "Please get up…" For all of the comedy, there's an intense worry and fear.

It has been a rather long day for this Rovehn knight. His body aches quite expressively, so it is no surprised that when that halberd cuts through his belly, it only tips the scales that is his capacity for pain and bloodloss. He tumbles out of his saddle, hitting the dirt with a rather unceremonious clatter of body and armor. His destrier circles around him, offering a threatening whinny as it kicks out its cybernetic hoof.

"Extraction, my ass." Flint grunts back. "I'll die before I retreat." He might be injured, but there is no retreat for the Legion. It's all or nothing for them, but then again, that's exactly the way they want it. So long as the Grantham has the energy to get up, he will. Still a bit out of it, he tries to rise again, this time with the help of Talayla. "I'm trying, lass. Need to…" he tries to jerk a plate of armor in his leg that's a bit jammed, thus what's impeeding him from truly getting back into the action.

As the Hostiles start to notice that their numbers are dwindling — and rapidly in comparison to those of the Havenites — they start a retreat pattern. Two have already fully disengaged, taking flight toward the plains. The others are taking backsteps, though they do not seem quite as eager to disengage as their targets.

Another exchange of misses and evasions but before Erik could strike out again, he sees the Rovehn Knight take another blow and collapse. The young knight's attention immediately shifts to cover the downed knight and prevent the Hostile from completing a finishing blow.

Vengeance has come for the Hostile in the tent, and whatever jokes may be made about the inability of Valen and Khourni to get along, Anabethe seems to know exactly where Niko is going to be before he gets there, and uses the reach from her halberd to let the Valen knight close while she lingers back just a bit. Her first action, though, is to take care of that spear, the blade of her halberd thrusting into the Hostile's elbow and twisting with a vicious pop and a spray of blood, bone, cartilage, and other, less recognizable elements.

Aidan reaches over to briefly rub his arm and try to relieve the painful vibrations. Given his aunt's condition, he turns back tot he one attacking him since his own foe has moved on. Cupping his hands together, A flicker of flame grows larger and takes on the shape of a large bird. More fully shaped than the hasty effort of a moment ago, it flies toward the priest like an arrow.

Another stumble. This time, the Hostile feints, drawing Kassandra into attacking. She slips on bloody ground and misses, opening herself up for him. The blow to her hand is stinging, and her fingers go numb. Her axe clatters to the ground and she follows it quickly, landing on her knees and gazing through blurry eyes at her gauntleted hand. "Sorry Niko, Erik," she murmurs quietly, her voice hoarse, and she tilts her head back to stare up at the Hostile that may just be her end. Even still, as feeling returns to her hand - painful feeling - she is searching on the ground for her weapon and bringing up her shield to cover her.

Nikomachos follows behind Anabethe's attack, stepping in between her and the Hostile. His shield batters at the thing's remaining arm, driving it aside, and then he punches his sword into its stomach, struggling to rasp out, "We're here to bring you home." And with the jolt of his arm burying his sword through armor and flesh, the holoprojectors on his shoulders light up once more, burning illusive wings of fire about him as he tries to bowl the Hostile over and knock it away from its prey.

In the tent, the surviving Havenites continue their desperate cries for help. Some are so delirious in fear, they keep demanding one of their rescuers please get them out of here, please. The Hostile is sluggish in withdrawing its spear from the now expiring body, making it easy for the pair of assailants to its armor and flesh. It starts to wilt under the attack, though it is chattering aggressively in its own language.

Agnes swings weakly at the creature in front of her, but misses. It, however does not. So many new scars, if she survives this. That's what she's thinking as she drops to the ground, unconscious.

Alexis's sluggish swing is parried, metal clanging on metal, she winces again at the impact but keeps her jaw set and carries on swinging. "They are breaking! Keep pressing the attack!"

Michael his sword is jarred as it hits but doesn't penetrate the damned thing. He wheels around for another go at the priest, attempting to take the attention off his knight.

Poor Talayla. But given her freaking glowy aura and the fact she has been mauling Hostiles pretty well, it was an inevitability. She holds out her hands and will help Flint up from Whoops. Alas, she's let her guard down in helping the fellow up. The hand that she reaches with is stabbed neatly with a polearm and Talayla wails. She has not been stabbed like that ever and it HURTS. She is most unhappy. At least she was able to help Flint up. She is, however, knocked off Whoops, and also even more unhappy. Though, now there is a horse for Flint to grab onto if he wishes. "Um, please take care of Whoops, I have to - That Lady has fallen- ow, my butt. My hand. Freaking ow on both ends!" She's got watery eyes and is most displeased. But, even though she reels, she at least staggers over to poor Kassandra.

And suddenly A MACE to the face. Aelewen apparently a little too target focused as she misses the hostile charging at her with a mace. Luckily it misses her slender form, all the weak blow getting from her is a faint smile. Her shot is on target, but bounces off the hostile's armor again. She shifts around and away, reaching for a case of arrows and loading them into the cannister at her waist in a smooth and well practiced motion.

There's the sound of metal grinding against metal as Flint finally gets the peice of armor that had become stuck against another plate. HUD coming back online more, he sees the Hostile that had put him on the mat. And that just doesn't make him happy at all to see him still standing. So there's a new goal, take that one apart. "Your horse will be fine. I won't let that asshole touch it." he states to Talalya in a pained grunt. Getting his bearings back, he grabs his mace again, putting his reserves of strength into order and swinging the weapon.

As Agnes falls unconscious, Aidan shouts and charges the Hostile that took her down to get his attention so he doesn't deliver the final blow. Obsidian isn't really trained for this but he's a fine horse and does as he's commanded. As they close, Aidan raises a hand and a lightning bolt flashes out at the enemy.

Lionel lies in the dirt. Considers the mysteries of the universe.

Whatever it is that one of the Hostiles was throwing at her makes contact, but not before she could take out another one herself! As Johana makes a killing blow, another one manages to knock her off her feet. Dazed, she lays there just a moment before she hops to her feet and goes after the one who had managed to take her down.

Crap. Not good. When the older knight goes down Viannea's right there, pounding on her helm. "Come on, Sir Agnes. Get on your feet! Get on your damn feet and keep on fighting, damn you." Her voice is tell-tale of how tightly gritted her teeth are, her jaw clenched so hard that it hurts. Hopefully it'll get her on her feet again.

A vicious cut is made on the Hostile that Erik was engaging and even though it does not take down the invader, the young Valen is already changing targets to one that is not as wounded.

"Oh, shove it up your ass," Anabethe snarls at the chittering Hostile. Which, to be fair, is probably more or less what she's getting from it. As Niko pins the Hostile, she circles around to get a good angle, then leaps to bury the blade of her halberd in the Hostile's throat, putting her full, armored weight behind it. Then, with the leverage granted by a polearm, she puts her weight on the far end, twists, and the Hostile's head pops clean across the floor. Take that. "What's the status out there?" she says across the comm, glancing between the captives and the door.

Kassandra closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, prepared to be completely finished. A squelching sound jerks her head up, and she blinks once as the Hostile that was about to finish her takes one in the chest and one in the belly. The Valen nearly hyperventilates as she realizes she is still alive, and she tears her gaze away to fumble around on the ground with her wounded hand to find her axe. "Get the fuck in my hand, get the fuck in my hand," she repeats in a mantra as she grasps her weapon, half-distracted trying to keep her shield up while struggling to rise to her feet.

Nikomachos shoves off with his shield, clearing his sword of the Hostile's body. He nods to Anabethe as she finishes it off, then starts toward the nearest cage, rattling it a moment, then rasping out, "We'll be back for you. I swear it on the honor of House Cindravale." And then he's turning away to depart the tent, sheathing his sword once more as he does so. There's a lance out there with more Hostile names on it.

Agnes doesn't respond to Viannea's prodding. Apparently she's as stubborn in unconsciousness as she is awake.

Lionel continues to lie in the dirt. Dreams of handsome men. And beautiful women. Has no prejudice.

"Is it this one?" Talayla asks, helping offer the axe, handle first, carefully. "I should help that lion guy - um. Well, after-" Agnes! She looks worried. Her hand hurts so much. And other parts sting mightily. "H-here." She'll offer the axe and a shoulder. "Sorry, my hand is - um." Well, Tal's none too eager to let someone grab her right hand. "You're okay, it's okay. Just um, don't stay flipped over. Like an angry turtle." Tal is just not so great at this motivation thing, is she? But either way, once she's assured Kassandra is on her feet, Tal is scampering off towards Agnes and Lionel.

Michael sees the priest go down and doesn't take a second look he's already riding to Sir Agnes' side and Vi's. He drops off the horse and comes to also knock on the door sorta speak. "Sir Agnes, you need to get up. Prince Emund is counting on you, now stand up like we all know you can." he tries to skake her as he speaks in a firm voice.

Alexis staggers under a sonic blast to her chest as she attempts to axe the priest, but remains standing however unsteadily, the swing of her blade going wide as Erik cuts the enemy down. Whirling on her good leg and losing no time she then limps for the nearest Hostile with another unsteady if murderous swing of her axe proceeding her.

Attacking someone who has just reloaded their arrow canister? Now that is just rude and possibly foolish to boot. Watching the bolt fly wide she turns her attention to the hostile and offers it a mocking salute before pulling an arrow, nocking it and letting fly in what looks like one easy smooth motion.

This time, Erik buries his bastard sword into the Hostile's chest as he takes a strike on his right arm this time, the same invader that was trying to take down the Sauveur Knight Lieutenant. Pushing the alien soldier down to the ground, the Valen plants his boot on the downed Hostile and pulls his gory blade out before turning on the one that struck him. "Now your turn, you fifth planet bastard. Time for you to meet your maker."

Aidan turns Obsidian so he's galloping off at an angle to the Hostile and as the pass Aidan sends another bolt of lightning flashing from his palm toward the Hostile.

There are cries of distraught and desperation as the pair of Havenite rescuers leave to finish the job they started. Some understand, certainly, but delirious with days of capture and presumed torture does terrible things to the rationale part of the psyche.

Flint just doesn't seem to have the same strength that he did a little bit again. Which is annoying, but when you have a shattered arm, it kinda makes sense that you can't lift or swing a weapon much like you were doing. Well, at least when the adreneline wears off. And the Ash Knight has certainly seen some better time, though that' doesn't mean he's going to stop. He'll keep hammering on the Hostile until one of them is dead, and even then his body still might not realize it's dead until after the fact. Swing away, Flint, swing away.

"Thanks, thank you, thanks," Kassandra mutters as she looks up to see that Talayla has her weapon. She accepts it back after rising to her feet, swaying a moment as she scans the field and puts away her axe. A man down close - a Rovehn, and a familiar one. "Lionel," she whispers, and hurries past the Orelle to lean over the man and shake him by the shoulder. If he will not or cannot rouse, the least she can do is hook her left arm under his and begin dragging him, shield still up in an attempt to protect them both. "Get up, get up, get UP!"

"Captives are secure," Anabethe announces, following Niko toward the door to get a look at the fight for herself. "Repeat, captives are secure." Because that should motivate people to fight, right? In the meantime, though, it looks like they could use some help out there. And so the knight charges back out into the fight, aiming for the nearest Hostile.

Nikomachos climbs back onto Erinye's back, pulling his lance out of the ground with a groan. He turns his head just enough to spot the red caret of a Hostile, make sure it isn't his own blood on the inside of the visor. That gives him time to notice that it's his baby brother that the Hostile is trying to cut up with its huge sword. Bonus!

With Erik at her side and assisting her in dispatching the last Hostile, Johana remains at his side, her sword battering into the next one.. hopefully.

Without any response coming from Agnes there's nothing Vi can do but go back into the fray. She leaps towards one more target, about too bone weary to do anything.

Anabethe finds the Hostile attacking Sammel, though she's just a breath too slow to stop it from landing a vicious blow against the Valen Knight. "Hey!" she shouts as her halberd clangs against the Hostile's armor. "Over here!" Because, as has been noted, Khournas don't know who not to pick on.

Alexis is still mostly blind with blood, and slowed by her injuries, her shield just sort of held awkwardly at her side as her gauntlet continues to bleed. She still hammers away with her axe though pounding the blade on the Hostile facing her's armour with minimal effect even though she does strike home.

Aidan reins in Obsidian once they're a decent distance away and then turns him to face the enemies again. Lightning seems to be working well so he stays with a winning tactic. Once all the enemy is dead, he can worry about Agnes.

"Damn it," Kassandra mutters, giving Lionel a nudge with her foot. He is out cold, but does not appear to be dead, so there are gods still around. With axe in hand, she straightens and turns in time to see Sammel take a heavy hit to the chest. This ignites her fury once more, and she charges the bastard with weapon out and shield up.

There's a sense of being insulted when Flint doesn't deliever the killing blow to the Hostile that he had been fighting for what felt like all damn long. But there's no point in whining about it, might as well move onto one of the two left standing. There's nothing subtle about it at this point, he's just swinging as best as he where he feels there's a vulnerable spot.

Michael isn't going to give up that easily with Sir Agnes. He'll smack her if that's what it'll take, but instead he continues to speak to her. Trying to coax her awake, he also opens his comm to Viannea. "How are you holding up?" before continuing his attempts to wake Sir Agnes. If she doesn't wake after this, he'll begin to extract her from the field. He's strong enough, he should be able to lift her onto the horse and get her out. He spares a moments glance to the other fallen, if he too doesn't wake, he'll drag him out with Agnes.

Phew. Poor Tal's concentration seems off. she helps zot that Hostile that's bothering Sammel, but her ice seems to shatter on its armor. She curses quietly, though there's relief that Sammel and Flint are both standing. Her head is reeling, she's in pain and frankly, this is just all quite upsetting. For now, then, she'll go help Lionel after seeing Kassandra nudge him. Hmm. "Don't worry, I'll make sure he doesn't get squished!" Tal promises. Okay. Time for … poke. Poke poke. Nudge. "Um. Hey! Don't go into the light." Pause. She will help left the fellow, at least. Whoops is watching out for Flint, or at least a handy platform to hop onto or lean on. "C'mon. You are not a turtle. Though, I'm kind of worried about irritating someone who takes after lions…" Hopefully this goes well for her.

And one more hostile goes down into the earth. Aelewen offers Viannea a salute, then her hand dips down again into her case. Nock. Pull. Aim. Breath. Release, aiming to slot the arrow through the swirling melee and down at the few remaining ones.

Nikomachos slips his lance between family and possible future family, tagging the Hostile with a glancing blow to the side. Thank you Sir Erksin for the lessons in point control. With the Hostile still standing, however, and people starting to crowd around the possible targets, he drives the lance into the turf once more, drawing in a pained hiss of breath as he does. Drawing out his sword once more — note to self, clean blade and sheath after this — he urges Erinye back toward the fight, the destrier breathing heavily by now.

"I am fine," Viannea quips quickly. "Keep an eye on Sir Agnes for me, please… Adian? Are you alright?" By the Six, she's horrified that she's going to be losing not one but two family members out here, the fear made all the worse when she realizes she lost sight of her brother. The fear makes her not even realize she helped off yet another Hostile and almost makes her forget to attack another.

With Johana around, Erik will never need a body guard. Apparently she is under the impression it falls to her to protect him.. and so she does. When a Hostile attacks him, she moves in and cuts it down, fighting either at his side, or in his stead, either way. Maybe that brief interaction they had shared before the battle had spurred her to action, because she continues to fight like a robot… cutting down about six now, with help.

"I am fine," Viannea quips quickly. "Keep an eye on Sir Agnes for me, please… Adian? Are you alright?" By the Six, she's horrified that she's going to be losing not one but two family members out here, the fear made all the worse when she realizes she lost sight of her brother. The fear makes her not even realize she helped off yet another Hostile and almost makes her forget to attack another. Aelewen's salute snapes her out of it the rest of the way and is returned, the gesture of respect followed by a loud scream and a swing of her sword which is knicked heavily along its leading edge and in severe need of a good sharpening.

The Hostile is stubborn but Erik is even more so, with the Ibrahm at his side. They both land strikes on the invader though the Lady Knight's was more vicious. "Ana, go high, I'll go low." Apparently there is still some attempt at coordinated strikes.

Ugh! Her blade makes minute contact with the Hostile, just scraping lightly across the metallic protection, she lowers her blade this time going for an abdominal shot. Something has to work here!

Alexis continues to hammer away with her axe, and misses this time, her right foot slipping on the ground as she staggers forward after failing to connect.

"I said over here!" Attacks ping off the big Hostile attacking Sammel from a distance, but Anabethe trusts those in the ranged section to continue to aim. Still, she's grateful for the extra reach granted by her own weapon as she scores a line down the Hostile's helm. That should get its attention, right?

With so many people attacking, one would assume that the Hostiles would drop like lead balloons - but no. The stubborn assholes simply refuse to go down so easily, and what's worse is that a blow from elsewhere jerks her target back enough that her axe blade merely glances off of its armor. But she refuses to stop. "Shield down," she growls, and her shield drops, leaving her less burdened as she attacks again.

Aelewen blinks as the two hostiles stay upright despite the weight of blows falling down on them. Shaking her head she is somewhat impressed despite herself. Still the veteran archer is on autopilot right now another arrow nocked to her bow and arcing over and down towards the creature.

This latest miss makes for… too many for Vi to count but she doesn't stop. Viannea's infamously stuborn and it's showing through now, much to her downfall, probably.

The damned Hostile will just not go down. Maybe if Aidan attacks the other one with a lightning bolt…

Finally. Flint feels vindicated in actually getting a hit through that looks like it did a decent amount of damage and not just pinging his mace harmlessly off Hostile armor. Let's see if he can do that. Batter up…

Oh no. Oh no. C'mon, lion dude. Lions beat unconsciousness, right!? "Okay, okay, um. Oh geez. C'mon, let's get you to a horse- oh, hi!" She nods to Charmer. "Um. Sorry. Hopefully you don't mind -" She's going to try to help get Lionel on the horse, even if he doesn't quite wake up. "Mind if I ask you a favor? Could you kneel so if he doesn't hop up we can-" Pause. "Yeah, I'm worried, too." Please wake up. She's going to help lift the fallen dude up, but he's not exactly teeny tiny or unarmored. "Knew… should have … lifted." Hnng. "We'll get you out of here one way or another." Yeah. Talayla's right hand is making her eyes water, so it's probably for the better.

Nikomachos urges his destrier forward, trying to drive the Hostile before him into the blades of his fellow Havenites. He rains blows down on the creature, driving his way through its defensive, but is only able to slice a little into its flesh beneath the armor. His efforts aren't helped by the fact that his head wound has bled him rather dry by now, and he's pale and wan beneath his helmet.

The Hostile remains standing which means Erik continues to fight, this time going for a cleaving blow, intent on decapitating the invader.

Michael finally seems to succeed in rousing Sir Agnes, he'll help her to her feet. "Sir Agnes, aside from the nap are you all right?" he look to Viannea, saying again to Agnes, "Let me assist you sir, we'll get off this field it looks like we've won the day." he'll offer her what support she needs.

Alexis, after the last Hostile falls, deactivates her shield, also letting her axe drop before ending up resting the head on the ground and leaning heavily upon the thing. She swallows then before keying her comm on. "All squires, get across her immediately with every horse you can round up. We need to set up triage for the wounded and prisoners. Anyone still able to fight establish watch for any Hostile counterattack."

Aelewen scans around the area carefully, switching between the various vision modes to make sure their are no sneaky scouts about trying to ambush the rather tattered group of Havenites "Well done all" she says over the open comm channel, as she reloads her canister of arrows.

Relief is visible on Talayla's face as the last two hostiles fall and go splat. "Um. Kneel, please? I don't think your owner is waking up," Talayla looks worried as Lionel still doesn't respond. If the horse lowers himself, Talayla will help load Lionel on and lead him over towards Flint. She feels some responsibility to her dad's vassals. "Hey!" She waves gingerly, then winces, almost crying as she regrets waving her right hand. "Um. You can ride Whoops - you look more hurt than me."

"Just get me back to Argent," Agnes rasps, her words bearing the liquid sound of blood bubbling. And find my niece and nephew, please." She lets him lead her to her horse, who obediently kneels so she can get on his back. She slumps forward, onto his neck, and he goes to find Aidan, whom she's trained him to take her two after battles.

Anabethe got the Hostile's attention. Not quite the way she would have liked. Her breath whooshes out with the blow to her already cracked breastplate, but a flurry of hits and an arrow to the chest do for it, leaving…no Hostiles standing. "Thank fuck," Anabethe pants, finally bending to put her hands on her knees and try to properly catch her breath. Which involves some wincing. There are probably going to be some broken ribs for Reena to wrap up later.

Nikomachos's blow ruffles past the still-dodging Hostile's head, but then it's on the ground, battered insensate. Leaning over the front of his saddle and panting heavily, he looks about, counting Valen. His eyes widen in panic a bit as he spots Sammel on the ground, and he points with his sword, "Kassie, Erik… Sammel's down. I'll see if I…" and there he has to pause for breath, "…can get the cages out."

There are no more Hostiles once the last of them fall. The camp actually seems to take on a weird sort of stillness despite the soft whimpers and cries from the tent with the hostages. The sun is still high in the sky, though it is easily early afternoon — warm and summery despite the carnage. The toddler boy that had been rescued is sobbing softly with whoever he was finally passed off to.

Finally. It's finally down. Kassandra has the presence of mind to hook her axe to her side again, and with her right, undamaged hand she reaches up to wrench her dented helmet from her head. That sets her cheek to bleeding again, naturally, but she clenches her jaw and remains conscious long enough to whistle for Platinum Prince. The savvy destrier who has remained out of the fray now trots forward, stomping happily on the disgusting remains of the Hostile bodies as it approaches. But Kassie isn't even sure she can get up onto her horse, so she grasps the reins with her wounded, still-gauntleted hand and guides the mount toward her unconscious brother. "Erik, tear your googly eyes away from your woman for a minute and help me get Sammel onto his horse."

When the Hostile is finally cut down, Erik finally releases a long breath as the battle is finally over. Glancing to the Ibrahm, the young Valen nods at her, "Well fought, Sir Johana." Then his eldest brother comes and points out Sammel who had fallen, worried once more. Kassie doesn't have to tell him twice and he's already on the move to help Sammel.

Vi takes off her helm once it's obvious the fight is over and whistles shrilly, getting the attention of her horse who managed to get away to someplace safe. Animus comes up at a trot, looking for the life of him like he had been out grazing for unflappable he is. "Good boy," she whispers while rubbing his nose, her eyes slowly drifting to half-closed. She hops onto his back and lets him carry her to where her aunt and Michael are. Time to find her brother, too.

Charmer still nervously stands near his rider, bowing his head to sniff at Lionel's helmet's mane. He snorts at Talayla before he slowly starts to kneel down, helping compensate for his staggering height. The Rovehn do train their horses well, it seems. He gnaws a bit at his bit, looking at Talayal with his half-cybernetic gaze. Well?

Flint can't do much more but take a knee once the last Hostile has fallen. Bar mace, bloody, bent and chipped, he's going to need a repair later one when he gets home. Nevermind getting himself fixed up. His helmet clicks apart and folds into the back of his armor mechanically, allowing him to take a sigh of actual air, instead of the filtered kind. That's when he frown, looking over at the dead body that he's not a few feet away from. "And I thought they smelled bad…on the outside…" he notes, by the lack of internal organs spilling out of it.

When the last Hostiles have fallen, Johana looks towards the tent and frowns.. "So are there more people in there? Anyone know? Where did the kid come from?" When Erik moves to his family, Johana remains beside Michael, but she glances over at Anabethe also. "We should get everyone medical attention."

Michael nods to Agnes when she's with her horse and follows it as it guides to another on it's own. He sees Vi riding up, he looks over to her. "Are you alright? I was able to rouse Sir Agnes enough to get her out of here." then he'll wait for her to take over for him, they'll have a chat at somepoint he's sure. He turns to make his way to Johana now, "Sir are you alright?" he still has Sir Erik's horse with him, leading the animal back to it's owner. "Thank you Sir Erik, the child is safe, as is your fine mount."

Aidan isn't at all far since he was hovering around Agnes to make sure she was all right. "Well, that was interesting." he says tiredly. "The medics will earn their pay tonight. How are the captives?" He doesn't expect Agnes to know, of course, so that's really directed to anyone nearby.

Well? Talayla will make sure that Lionel is on the horse securely. "Thanks. You're a good horse dude," She nods to Charmer. She looks over to Flint. "Yeah… um. Need help getting onto a horse? I'm going to take this fellow back to the medics," A motion to Lionel. "Whoops is pretty gentle. Don't worry about his slight wide-eye," She remarks. The poor horse is kinda derpy looking, but? He seems totally agile. "I'll lead you along," She nods to Charmer. Pause. "Or would you prefer- I don't know-" How much does this horse chap carry? Whatever happens, Talayla will either lead or ride Charmer back.

Aelewen having almost no medical skills starts to head towards the perimeter. She stops to check briefly on the people she passes, and make sure the horribly wounded Alexis sits down "Let us less wounded do the bossing about" she growls with a faint smile before starting to boss the squires around into something appropriate a properly military perimeter.

"There are a lot of people in there," Anabethe nods to Johana, taking a careful breath as she straightens. "And they're pretty messed up right now. Any Valens still on their feet?" she asks, starting toward the tent and retracting her helm. "I've got a feeling they'd appreciate some familiar faces right now."

Agnes looks blearily at Aidan. "Check on the comms. I seem to have misplaced some time and the wiring of my helm was shorted out from the damage."

"A score or so," Nikomachos rasps out in response to Johana as he rides toward the tent. Now that he's thinking about it, he slides off his horse in something closer to a controlled fall than a graceful dismount, and staggers back into the tent, reaching up with a grimace and hiss of pain to remove his helmet. His face may be bloody and pale, but at least it's a human face, "Okay… we're going to get you out now…"

Charmer isn't the largest of the destriers, but he sure seems like he could carry Lionel plus a little slip of an Orellean. He snorts out his breath a bit, waiting to see if he should rise up or if he needs to stay down.

With the assistance of her brother, Kassandra manages not only to locate Sammel's mount but also to heave-ho his body into the saddle. Sideways, mind you, and not entirely comfortable. She is in the process of binding him into place so he will not slip from the saddle when she looks up to stare at her brother. "Erik," she wheezes, panting lightly between breaths while securing the last knot that will keep Sammel from dying beneath his own mount's hooves; "How do you manage — to stay beautiful — during combat? Because I think — half my face — is gone. Help me into — my saddle. My legs — aren't working right."

Inside the tent, there is no small amount of fear and chaos in those cages. There are probably twenty people all together, though Rovehn had reported about fifty had gone missing from the attack. They are tightly kept in five cages. There are high tech medical tools on what appears to be a long, metal table. Those items are the cleaniest items in the entire tent.

Will Viannea have words for Michael. If she does it won't be anything gently worded, that's for sure. But for now it's left alone since he'll undoubtedly have to attend to post-fight squire duities for Johana and shehas family to check on. "Aunt Agnes. I am so sorry," she says once close enough to the woman to speak without raising her voice. "Are you alright?" Aidan's looked at too, glanced over quickly to make sure he's alright. "Did you stay in the back like you were told?"
Alexis has disconnected.

"My arm's not moving so good, but I'm still mobile for what it's worth." Flint notes, having enough of being near the corpse of the Hostile, getting up to his feet and moving on over towards the group at large "Probably gonna need a doctor at some point, but it can wait." Idly, he takes out the dagger from a sheath on his boot, then begins to gouge in small lines on the shoulder plate of his armor. Likely keeping track of the number of kills so far in the war. Well, his kills anyways.

Anabethe heads back to the tent, raising her voice when Niko's rasp doesn't quite cut through the sound. "We're getting everyone out of here and back to safety," she announces. "It's just going to take us a couple minutes, okay? We're here, and we're not leaving without you." And then she sets about breaking locks.

Agnes doesn't answer Viannea, particularly. She just replies with, "Don't worry about me. Go help with those captives. I will report to medical. Aidan, stay with your sister, and both of you be careful." She then nudges Argent towards the caravan, trying not to scream with every step the animal takes as things inside of her chest move in ways they should NOT.

"Okay, well. I have to ride this one back. If you want, please take Whoops," Talayla offers to Flint. "Otherwise he'll just follow us," She nods. "My hand's in bad shape but I can help you up before I hop onto - um, I thnk he called him Charmer." She will carefully climb onto CHarmer. "Thanks," Hey, she's polite and the horse IS being patient. "And you probably should come with. You do look um, slightly less than mint condition. Dad'd roundhouse kick me off the Ring if I let you go splat out here." It's her way of saying she's worried about Flint.

Following the others into the tent, Johana is definitely one of the least wounded, so she can handle more of the manual labor. "Then let's get them free before the Hostiles come back.." Already moving forward to help assist in opening the cages.

Nikomachos disdains the… medical… tools, staggering directly to the nearest cage and bracing against it for a moment before he tries to pull the door open bodily. He can only pull on it for a moment, and then he has to stop, his eyes pinched shut in pain. The lock has quite clearly refused to give, and he rattles hangs from the cage a moment, gathering his breath, "We might… we might need to use those…" he nods over to the tray of… medical… tools. What is usually a rather nice tenor comes out like pop rocks on sandpaper.

"I ain't no healer…" comes Aelewen's rusty voice over the comms "But it strikes me that folks seriously injured should get down off their horses and let folks who are look over them before they make things worse" she says, her voice sharpening.

Michael grimices as the pain from his wounds starts to fully set in now. He grits his teeth and he looks to Johana and follows her into the tents. He can help, despite the bolt through his shoulder and rather horribly dented fauld that shows where he was hit. Thalo would be impressed. He goes into the tents and does what he can to assist.

"I was where I needed to be." Aidan answers. "I'll be fine." With some medical attention. "We should all get back to Peake. They've got things in hand now and don't need us standing around watching." Motioning to Vi, he turns Obsidian and sets out after Agnes.

"I am always careful, Sir Agnes," says Viannea, not telling her about how she got hurt some herself, earlier. Sore ribs pales vastly when compared to the horrible injuries the other sustained and she doesn't want Agnes to worry about her when she should be focusing her energy on getting better. Sighing shallowly, then, she looks back to her brother. "I… uh, yeah." Home is good. And she could use a soak in a hot bath and a binding for the bits that hurt. Not that she'll tell him that, either.

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