Against the Night

[Eden-H]

It took Nemael only a second to open a rift for Mort to leap through, coming into existence shortly after Silas hacked into the beasts tongue. Giving a quick and silent thanks to the man for making their work easier, he opened another a few feet lower than the one prior. He knew nothing of Mort's stamina or how much damage he had sustained, so he came to the conclusion that it was better to err on the side of caution than accidentally get him killed by opening it a few feet too high. It would forever amaze him how much of a difference it made when it came to a situation that teetered between life and death.

Grinning beneath his cowl, he watched as Mort successfully came through the other side. Closing the rifts that had been opened, he prepared to open two more when two things suddenly occurred: The first happened to be the sight of Drake as he was being ferried across the battlefield on the shoulders of their newest and supposed ally, carried like a child and taken to a tree. Then he was dropped without a care on his ass. The second was the Vorsord dashing up to him, a garish wound marring half of his face from when the acidic blood had splashed onto his flesh. Although his attention immediately turned to Silas when he spotted him, he could not help but wince inwardly as he saw what little remained of the mans left eye and the patches of skin that continued to hiss.

"Spirits," he cursed aloud. Looking towards Mort, he shouted above the din of combat and the howling of the beasts the hound had summoned. "I can only hold these two rifts for so long!" As though on cue, a rift opened just to the left of the massive thing while another was created closer to himself, well out of the range of the creature.

At least for the time being.

Turning back to Silas, he noted the way the man clawed at his face and continued to utter unusual phrases he supposed were meant to be obscenities. Frowning ever so slightly, he tore the mans hand away and held it in place at his side so he wouldn't make it worse. Then with his left he began to gather what energy he could. Lifting it to the wound, his palm held out toward the patchwork of flesh and charred fur, opalescent light suddenly came into existence and began to move like tendrils, prodding at the damage. As it did, Nemael turned his face away from the carnage occurring over Silas' shoulder and instead settled his gaze on the barren earth, his hand wavering briefly as his breath came in short bursts. Channeling the energies of the Shift was exhausting enough when he was doing one task; holding two rifts open while simultaneously letting a spirit through to attempt to heal the Vorsord's wound?

His slowly stooping posture commented toward how much energy he was expending, but he knew he had to maintain both. Smiling thinly, he looked up to see the spirit pressing itself to Silas' face, almost appearing to consume half of his head. In truth, the creature had first attempted to numb the flesh so that Silas would no longer feel pain. Then it had turned itself into a glorified bandage, working to draw the acid out from his skin while simultaneously repairing what damage it could. However, its success would depend on the Vorsord's pain tolerance in the case its numbing effect had not entirely taken hold or began to wear off. With that task done, he let go of his wrist and allowed his hand to drop.

Gasping to breathe now, he used what strength he could to warn Mort. "I cannot hold it open any longer! I must close them now!" He waited a few seconds before the two rifts suddenly blinked out of existence. Nemael then fell to his knees and clasped his head on either side of his hood, eyes squeezed closed as he rocked forward and touched his masked muzzle to his knees. Without realizing it until now, he had expended far too much of his strength and energies with the numerous rifts, the blade he had summoned and the technique he had pulled off with one of the houndlings. Double that with the healing spirit he had drawn from the Shift, a task that was arduous enough without having spent anything in the first place, and then the portals he had to create for Mort to aid in killing the damned thing and then come back safely? It had drained him, but it was not the only thing that made him kneel in such a prone position.

Gripping his hood, it took nearly every ounce of his will not to tear it off just so he could breathe better. The rest went towards retaining his hold on this world and not the Shift. Groaning softly, the howl of the houndlings crashing into the clearing to take care of their ragtag mercenary group was completely lost on him, as was any response from Silas to the spirit and whether or not Mort had made it back to them before the portals closed.

[Xavier Akafur]

The beast howled in pain in fury, the remainder of its tongue immediately pulling back into its maw. It threw its weight fully into a roll, intending to crush whatever creature was hitting it in the back, not knowing Mort had already been warped away. The force of the full weight of the creature finally outmatched Camille's magical restraint, and it went rolling across the ground haphazardly, taking out several small trees. Neshar and Drake were only barely out of its path as it went skidding past, the beasts' jaws chomping closed in a wild attempt to kill the duo,  just a few feet behind their hasty retreat.

Consequently, Mort came down on empty space, landing where the beast had just been restrained not two seconds prior.

The cannon-like boom of magic sounded again as the beast tried to right itself, a fireball exploding against it's right leg. The force of the blast was enough to throw the thing right back into the dirt. Xavier continued pacing steadily towards the creature, each step increasing the effectiveness of his potent magic against the monster. Now he was pooling his power for long seconds between attacks, needing a much higher damage output against this colossal beast compared to its diminutive look-alikes.

Still, even as he closed the gap from safety into a realm of relative danger, his magic could not punch through the creature's hide. The hound wisely kept the exposed portion of its face turned away as another blast caught the left side of its head, plumes of flame drifting up into the sky as the explosive force expended itself uselessly against the creature's head. Damaging or not, Xavier refused to let the creature stand up, carefully aiming and timing his blasts so that each time the monster tried to roll or gets its feet beneath it, it would be fire-cannoned back to the ground.

"Someone with a blade, stick the **censor** thing!" He yelled out, his voice a throaty growl with the strain of using so much magic. He heard movement all around, though friend or foe...he dared not remove his attention from the Hound even for a moment. The hound scrambled wildly to try and get at the mage, who stood frustratingly just out of reach. It managed to swipe a paw at him, aiming to impale him with its wicked barbs, but the persistent creature just took a quick step backwards.

This exchange was short-lived, though, for as much as Xavier was trying to keep it pinned, the Hound had allies. From the brushline near the hybrid, another houndling pounced at him. He heard the growling creature coming, and was forced to expend his most recently charged fireball... right into the houndling's open maw. The creature had its gullet stuffed full of wildfire, bloating for a split second like an overfull balloon as the magic detonated inside of it, before it became no more than a shower of blood and airborne giblets.

A massive paw was all Xavier saw before he was suddenly blinded by a flash of pain and sent sailing across the clearing, clipping off the ground with enough force that he went skipping off into the brush on the opposite side of the battlefield, spinning wildly. Any mundane creature would surely have been slain by such a blow.

[Drakeyboy]

Drake felt himself get picked up as he was floundering around trying to get to his feet. He didn't really say anything during the travel figuring he didn't get that far when he got flung. Didn't even get a good look at who dragged him of too.

Once he reached the tree he managed to keep balanced while he was sitting. He kept shaking his head to regain his focus from before. By the time he could fight again the creature rolled passed him and he saw the gaping hole in the side of its head. He then heard someone call out to hit it there. Drake got up and smacked the last of the daze right out of him by smacking himself across his face. He the saw the houndlings that were attacking Xavier and acted. If they weren't felt with right now they were going to lies a comrade reluctantly he reached for the tree that was close to him touching the dark side of the tree. He muttered something in a old magic toung and shortly after it seemed like the shadow of the tree undulating and returning to normal. Drake had his shadow creature up his sleeve quite literally.

He then charged Xavier' just to see him go airborne. He then changed his target the creature and used his telekinesis to get close quickly like before but this time he tossed his Shadow creature to the wound. It would then try and bury itself into it's head by digging into the soft tissue.

[Cyril]

Camille grunted and shuddered as he stopped his mass of material midair. A gust of wind roared beside him; followed by a slump and deep thud as Xavier fell into the brush. Retreating backward while his material faded out of existence again.. Camille panicked slightly in his mind. His stance wavered slightly as he watched Silas' pain.. Two houndlings jumped at him and he muffled a noise of surprise before a growl came from him, his cloak shifting around the animals and binding them. The silver material locking them tight as he dragged them near the wounded. First directing himself to Xavier; he kneeled beside him and literally squeezed the life from the houndlings; a raw crackling coming from their bodies as they whined and died in their bindings.. His hands ran over the hybrid's torso and sides as he directed the life force to heal him. Although he wasn't able to restore any magical energy, he healed enough to smack him awake. His strike would've echoed, had it not been for the ongoing fight..

Although rather tired and running low on stored life force, he grit his teeth and looked to the rest of his companions standing. His bindings released the houndlings; now shriveled and dried on the ground as he reformed his bindings into a small group of six hummingbirds. Although not actual hummingbirds; they had sharp beaks and flew above him like them.
"We need to end this." He spoke audibly, all the six hummingbirds flying into the open wound Drake had sent the best in. The jackal gestured his hands to push deeper. The beast audibly snarled and shifted; swinging about wildly and looking to the group in fury. Camille was locked in place as he tried to destroy the beast from the inside out.. His beads sapped of energy almost completely as he began to allocate some of his own. Costing more than earlier, he grunted lowly. "Quickly."

[Goblin Cat 😸]

 Mort came down hard on the ground – hard enough to make a divot in the soil where he landed with an exasperated “BASTARD!” following his miss, but wasted no time to get back to his feet, quick to move again in attempts to close the distance between himself and the creature as it rolled – at least one person had taken to listening to him. It had paid off for the group in the best way possible and despite his wobbles, the canine made his way to the beast with the intent of doing just as Xavier ordered – burying his axe into the creature.

 
Absently, he threw the thing's tongue – a secondary reaction to grabbing his axe from its holster and swung wide, guaranteeing to clip houndling that dared rush him as he moved toward the thing, raising his blade for a second blow, specifically aimed at the fleshy spot that he'd pummeled before on his first connection rather than in its face.

[Xavier Akafur]

Surprisingly enough to the healer, the hybrid that had come sailing through the air seemed relatively unharmed aside from some bruising from the impact. His torn arm seemed to be the worst injury on him. As the energy flowed into him he snapped awake in time to block the slap with a reflexive slap of his wrist. Xavier was glaring up at the jackal, apparently disoriented and annoyed, but alive. After he realized what was happening his expression softened slightly. "Thanks, mate." He said with a gruff nod, pulling himself to his feet. His ribs were sore and his shoulder throbbed where he had taken the direct hit of the Hound's paw.... but the blow had done no permanent damage. The mage's supernatural toughness preventing most of that horrendous force from harming him.

As he looked towards the fight he grinned, seeing the creature whipping its head back and forth, some kind of shadow fiend clawing into the side of its face, little pinpricks of light also shining through splatters of blood. Xavier's paw settled on Camille's shoulder, a torrent of magical energy pouring through the healer's body. It took the edge off of the fatigue, the silver-white energy causing the man to glow faintly as it suffused him with its minor power. It would not do much in the long run, but hopefully it would allow the other caster to continue the offensive just that extra bit longer.

The bully's whirling axe took a bite out of the creature that had lunged at him, sending it sprawling across the ground as one of its legs was cut clear from its body. The whirling strike came around in a blow that truck true and bit deep, the heavy bladed weapon coming down on the crevice between its neck and shoulders. Blood spurted and the Hound seemed to lose a good portion of its life in that single blow, its whole front half dipping in an instinctive motion to try and mitigate the damage of the axe, to no avail. Mort would feel his blade bite into bone as it clipped the creatures spine, the hound shaking wildly and without control, falling onto its side and thrashing powerfully it a desperate attempt to save itself.

It was clear to all who saw the blow that the beast was finally dying, if not entirely dead just yet.

[Goblin Cat 😸]

 Feeling the axe connect caused another one of those toothy grins to spread across the bully's face as he dug into flesh and saw the creature writhing in pain – he'd have stopped, but again once he'd started there was no stopping until the mission was complete – there would be no doubt that they'd need evidence of the hound's death, and so he jerked the axe out from the thing's neck and took another swing downward, this time intending to disconnect its head from its body. As it were, he was still riding a pretty good rush of adrenaline brought on by the fight, injuries only kept from bleeding everywhere by the hardened blood that had clotted on his neck and hand. At the second hit, the thing's body went limp.“Third time's the charm,” he growled, taking another swing, blood spattering on his armor and face. He'd worry about the other houndling once he was done here, provided the others hadn't already taken care of it. With one leg and its pack leader down, Mort supposed it wouldn't be getting too far.

 
Reaching down, he grabbed up the creature's head and with a few careful twists, disconnected it accordingly from the remaining flesh. Even with the blood and gore that covered him, he held it up nose to nose to his face, giving it a mock snarl before he turned it for the others to see. Of course, even if his humor wasn't appreciated, it didn't stop him from speaking to the thing's head as if it were capable of listening, “Way to lose your head there, buddy,” he muttered, chuckling at his own awful joke just before he tucked the hound's head beneath his arm for safe keeping. Then, as if remembering that someone else might want a turn with the head, “Anyone want to carry the trophy?” he offered, wrenching his axe from the ground with a friendly smile – though perhaps it didn't look as friendly given the circumstances what with the amount of blood he was covered in.

[Cyril]

The hummingbirds sent into the beast burst from its corpse shortly after its death. Camille approached what was left of the corpse and ran his hands along its bloodied side. The mage sapping what ever life energy he could from it hungrily; his hummingbirds began to reform into his beads as the corpse began to wither and dry beneath his hands. Licking his lips and toying with the drying fur, he chuckled slightly as he sapped whatever he could from the dead enemies around him. First, healing over the acid burns upon his legs, he stood up and looked to Silas. Although his eye was bandaged by Namael's spirit, he spoke quite confidently.

"You know, I'm sure you'd like to see from that eye, wouldn't you?" He chuckled, smirking and allowing a response from the dog before actually talking to him, much less removing the spirit on it. "I can heal that over, but Namael will have to remove that... Thing." He said in slight dissatisfaction at the spirit. Although not quite undead, the raw form of a soul was rather repulsive to the jackal. Not enough to impair him, but enough to make him look away. The jackal released the braids on his front and pulled up his cloak; the fabric sparkling lightly in the light of the sunset.

He turned his attention to the rest of the group. His eyes looked for serious wounds; although he skipped off of acid wounds. With plenty of those to go around, and the burns immediately cauterizing the wounds, he wasn't exactly concerned with them as much as broken bones and impairing qualities. He looked at the energy within his beads afterwords, smirking to himself; he felt quite full of magic and very strong at the moment. The beast gave him a type of magical surge in power; enough to ignore his fatigue.

[tangletail]

And now…the houndlings seemed to have been handled. Along with the alpha of the group. The head had been claimed, and everyone is in some… er… pretty decent shape. The Displacer Thief’s eyes glanced around the group, taking small moment to remember each one of their apperances and faces… in the event that he ever had some explaining to do before they break his cover in town.

The feline quietly gave the group a wave of farewell before turning about and hustling his way through the brush. His body naturally dipped down with his powerful legs making long strides to keep himself in cover. His hands lightly grazed along the ground when he made short turns, accelerated, or to compensate for a sudden change in the terrain.

It wasn’t long before he had completely disappeared without much of a trace. And for the trained who wished to chase after him… he did leave a trail. But the feline was all too aware of this factor, having received training as a Sergal’s elite recon scout. He had followed the trail he had originally left. Leading anyone who wished to follow to an encampment of highway men. Dead highway men. Whom’s bodies and goods had been looted. Chests that were obviously once locked, had been opened up by a pair of deft hands.

After that the feline, danced through the shadows, breaking up his tracks with each graceful maneuver, till the the final spin and pose had left him standing in his traveling slave’s clothes on a well beaten path. Afterwards, he made his way to the town. He still needed to find a tender he could sell the goods he had picked up from those bandits.

[Eden-H]

Nemael murmured into the lightweight metal plates that donned his thighs, his masked face pressed against the cool material. Although he was still actively working on retaining his grip on this reality so that he may once more become a productive member, he was now able to shift his attention between it and what was going on around him.

The first thing he noted was Mort's voice, pride dripping from his words as he inquired whether or not someone wanted to carry the Hounds head. Then came what he perceived as an insult to the spirit he had summoned, the comment coming from the man he best equated to a necromancer. As he listened, a scowl came to permanently rest on his masked lips, teeth creating a distinct impression on the fabric. "I do not recommend insulting Shift spirits," he snapped. His response was slightly staggered when he his entire body shuddered. "They are not things, nor do they appreciate being spoken to as such."

Swallowing hard, he turned away from Camille in disgust. Though he was struggling to remain upright as his senses were assaulted by things outside of their perception, he managed to keep his spine straight and posture relatively rigid. However, an untapped fury burned in the pit of his stomach threatened to claw its way out, the emotions he felt exaggerated beyond their normal capacity due to the extenuating circumstances they were in. "She will leave as soon as possible. Whether that is after she has repaired the damage to his face or our hunter friend decides it is time for her to move on is up to them."

He clenched his left hand into a tight fist, the remaining portions of his gauntlets digging into the fabric that covered his palm. While the temptation to knock the cocky necromancer on his ass was certainly a thought that raged at his mind, he instead tried to concentrate on retaining any sense of calm. When he used his magic far beyond its normal limits and drew upon the wild energies of the Shift and its spirits, he was lucky if he did not accidentally tap into the wells of power that came from less savory entities; let alone retained his grip on reality.

Taking in another breath, he slowly looked from Mort to Xavier and Drake. He noted the man who had posed as an innocent disappearing into the underbrush as well and slowly shook his head. While he was certainly interested in learning if their magics were similar or even coalesced, he also knew that his companion Dragonhawk could find information on such things for him. Thus he bore no interest in following him and was in fact infuriated that he had pretended to be someone he was not, these feelings actually coming from him rather than the spirit he accidentally took energy from.

"Let us turn this in to the village then," he ground out. Turning toward its general direction, he slowly began to make the journey back. He did not wait to hear Camille's response if there was one or even to check and see if the others had begun to follow. Instead, Nemael just wanted the entire situation to be done and dealt with so that he could continue on his own path. Working with a group of strangers had turned out to be far more dangerous to his health than the damned hound and its bastard minions.

[Xavier Akafur]

Xavier waved away Mort's offer with a look of amusement, and some small bit of disgust. He was covered in blood himself, splatters of the thick fluid already drying in an almost artistic pattern across the front of his chest, overcoat and pants. Despite the healing energy Camille had poured into him he kept his arm in the makeshift sling, figuring unless he needed to use it, there was no reason to risk it getting injured further.

Seeing the shadow-dancer run off he blinked once in confusion, wondering why the shifty rogue had felt the need to depart so suddenly. He instinctively checked his small pouch of gold coins, but found it was still there. "Hmm..." He murmered to himself, but his attention was quickly dragged away.

Khaki and Silas appeared to be making their own way back to town, the ranger leading the way for the injured Vorsord. Xavier guessed with an eye injury of that magnitude that the armored male may be out of commission for a few days at the very least. His tail flicked at that thought, not enjoying the thought that they had been injured so severely by a wild monster.

Nemael was already walking away, and Xavier motioned for the remaining group to follow along. "Alright boys, let's go get your silver." He spoke up, falling into stride a few paces behind the Shift-user. His thoughts slowly drifted, his keen perceptiveness finally falling back to his previous casual attitude. The entire region had been beset by rather fiendish creatures of late, which is precisely why he was here. A little known fact, and one Xavier had only discovered by years of working his trade, was that monsters of this caliber were drawn by magic. Not piddling wizardry, or even the powerful magics one might find in their current group. No, they were drawn by ancient, incredibly powerful magic. That was why ancient ruins were often populated by some of the more powerful monsters. They seem to be drawn to and feed off of the energy such items emit, a type of magical radiation. Over time this tended to not only nourish them, but supernaturally strengthen them as well. Whether that was the case here he was unsure, but he had come to this region because of widespread reports of powerful monsters roaming the land... and the Hound had been the strongest yet by far. "Good chance we're close..." He muttered to himself, contemplatively. His uninjured paw was cupping his chin gently, his webbed fingers stroking at the sleek fur of his muzzle.

He glanced up, studying Nemael's back for a moment before looking over his shoulder. Could this group be trusted? Sure they had united for a common cause, but for most it seemed that cause revolved around gold... and in Mort's case the promise of violence. Not exactly encouraging. Still, he may need them. The otter-wolf was powerful, but he was far from home.. and thus far from his resources. This would be a harrowing journey as a group, by himself he suspected it would be suicide. He smiled to himself, a humorless expression.

[Drakeyboy]

Drake was looking around the demolished battle field. That was some fight he hadn't face anything like that for a long while and was out of practice. Also the brute that fell from the sky didn't help. But nonetheless without the group ge would have probably perished. If the monsters in this region were this tough he would need a group to help him find the people he was looking for.

When he heard Xavier mention the money he paused. He had completely forgotten why he did this. He fitted the strap on his bag a little and started walking behind the group gauging who could be useful. At the very least he would like Xavier to travel with him. With him near the back it was pretty easy for Drake to approach him. He wasn't very fond of large groups or loud people so that would cut out most of the current group. "Hey. Xavier." He said to catch the hybrids attention.

[Xavier Akafur]

Xavier's ears perked slightly when he heard his name, turning to look over his shoulder at the fox-coon. His expression was openly curious, wondering why the fellow had pulled him from his thoughts, and more-so why he had singled him out of the group. He read the expression on the young man's face, and smiled slightly, motioning for him to come walk beside him. He had a feeling Drake was older than he looked, his thin build and long hair made him look marginally younger to the otter-wolf.

"I can see you have something you'd like to ask, which suits me just fine. I have some questions for you as well." he said, speaking at a lower volume. Nemael or anyone else within a few paces could probably hear him easily, but those further off would likely only hear murmuring.

"First of all, what kind of magic are you using? For somebody so young you have quite an arsenal of spells." Xavier's tone was friendly, and his gait was casual, despite his injuries and the blood still soaking his fur. The treasure hunter was quite used to being banged up, though admittedly his arm was in pretty bad shape this time around. His cheery mood seemed to be impervious to dampening, however.

[Goblin Cat 😸]

 “Tough crowd,” Mort muttered, tucking the head beneath his arm, taking note of the disappearing rogue with mild interest. At the very least now he knew that he'd be getting his fair share of silver, perhaps even more given how the crowd was dispersing since he had the evidence of the hound's death in his hands. Following everyone's lead, he began to make his way to town with the others, catching up with Nemael in particular. “Nice thinkin' back there,” he huffed with a grin. Despite his durability, the bully was sore in more spots than he cared to admit along with the injuries he had on his hands and neck. It seemed to show in the way he carried himself – a bit more sluggish than before due to exhaustion. “I think you and I'll be good for one another, yeah?” He figured since the other seemed content to chat, he may as well give it a shot and Nemael seemed to be the only one interested in reciprocating.

[Eden-H]

Startled from his idle thoughts and the marginal attention he had been giving to the conversing duo walking a few paces back, his first thought was to bristle and snap at the sudden intrusion. However, once he realized it was Mort and not the person he initially suspected, a small grin sneaked its way across his muzzle. "Thanks," he said with a soft chuckle. "Not only could it literally have not been done without you, I'm glad you had the sense to strike it where the spine and neck joined, rather than where I initially suggested." He paused. "I must also thank you for saving my life, whether or not it was indirectly. If you had not thrown that houndling, I am fairly certain I would be in a similar state to that hunter."

Glancing back over his shoulder towards Xavier, Drake and Camille, his countenance shifted from stiff to slightly more relaxed. While the effects of drawing on another spirits energy was finally beginning to wear off, removing the uncharacteristic anger and wild thoughts that had flared and in turn been directed towards the necromancer, he still felt physically and emotionally exhausted. Case in point, he had failed to adjust his hood like he had been obsessively doing earlier, the cloth beginning to slip away and reveal the black markings around his eyes and forehead. Stretching his wings only exacerbated the issue while he listened to Mort's next comment. "I am... actually inclined to agree. Typically I detest working with anyone, regardless if it would be foolish to go at the task alone." He cocked his head to the right, purple and pink eyes narrowing as he thought. "Too troublesome and most often not worth the effort put in. Plus I am not entirely one for conversation," he said, laughing airily. He understood quite well that his continued chatter only worked to point towards the opposite of what he was conveying. "However, I think you and this group are worth sticking around for. As unfortunate as that may make me sound."

Again that ghost of a smirk passed across his lips. Just as it began to fade, he suddenly changed the subject of their conversation. Curiosity had been gnawing at him since he had first seen the fellow. "Are you a spirit of the Shift?" He turned ever so slightly and waved at the spaded tail that whipped behind the man. "Or a realm I may not know of?"