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In all the commotion, no one seemed to notice the sage who warped into the middle of the street up which the beasts had run. On either side of him were the curiously transformed flags, which bore his crest and colors. All looked as it should, except...

Except the dogs! Leander watched them run up toward the castle... nothing his guards shouldn't be able to handle... He looked down at his own tome and stave as he made his way toward the gates. He mustn't run, no. He kept himself at a walk. No doubt the guards believed him dead after his absence-- by the look of how things changed, he guessed it had to be at least three years-- and it would be a bit of a shock if their dead king arrived to assist them.

And besides that, running was for peasants.

He grew nearer to the battle that had erupted between the guards and the dogs, and he ducked into a shadowed arch to avoid being seen by many people who seemed to be mercenaries of some sort, running to assist them. Slowly, he peeked around the corner with glowing eyes, waiting for an opportunity to reappear in the most dramatic and majestic way possible.

One has to have a sense of occasion when it comes to this sort of thing, after all.

The icy sage stepped back out around the corner and started to once more make his way toward the gates when a flash of green hair caught his eyes.

He gasped and brought his hand to his temple, closing his eyes as images rushed through his head. Laughter, a woman's laughter... A beautiful face... his mind twisted. Names pushed themselves into his head and then escaped before he could register them.

One sentence stood out, clear as a bell, amid the chaotic white noise that had taken over his mind. 'She awaits her beloved, though he has long passed beyond her reach; he must return to her...'

He straightened up sharply and his eyes glowed as he raised his staff. A flash enveloped him from the gem atop it, and he suddenly appeared beside Nino! Quite suddenly, his arm slid around her and he pulled the befuddled mage into a kiss, pressing her tight against his body as he held his staff out again. The head glowed, and beneath their feet a massive pillar of ice began to rise, lifting the pair of them up above the others.

Before Nino could properly react, Leander released her from the kiss and held her to his side, turning to the incredulous spectators to the battle-- those fighting were a bit too busy to pay attention, but many were on the outskirts, watching the spectacle with eyes and mouths open wide.

"Yes!" called Leander, "I have returned to you this day! I, your king, have come to reclaim my throne, and rightful place as ruler of this land!" His voice boomed, even over the din of the monsters below. "All hail to me, King Leander!"

He had to do it. It seemed rather a non-sequitur, but it was necessary to make sure he was seen before he worked his first miracle. He murmured to Nino, "My dear, let me get you safely inside, and I shall return to dispatch these beasts..."

"Nino!!" Nils watched helplessly as Nino was lifted off into the sky, but unable to do anything about it.
His body told him to run, to go after her, but his mind told him how illogical of a move that would be: there were Mauthe Doogs running around, and if he was caught by them, he was a goner.
So, he ran back down to the lake.

(Mauthe Doogs... I've heard stories about these. They're supposed to be the myrmidons of the monster world--not terribly strong, but very fast and very deadly for that reason.)

Rhys held out his staff as though it were a sword, watching the two canines in front of him warily.

As one, they growled, then lunged--but years of experience taught Rhys quite a bit about combat. Turning his staff horizontally, he let the two Doogs clamp on to either end, then fell backward into the snow, letting the staff fly out of his hands behind him. Both Doogs spent a frenzied second ripping at the staff before one realized it was missing two legs and the other realized its head had fallen off--both sudden losses courtesy of Rhys' Light spell.

"G-guh... So... c-c-cold! I knew I should have worn a scarf!"

Rhys was dressed in heavy green robes as opposed to his trademark holy garb, but lacked anything for his head other than a hood, which hardly sufficed to keep out the cold.

Grumbling and picking up his staff, he continued in the direction Nils was headed--the nearby lake.

The (technically undead) Mad King walked around the castle for a while before hearing the sounds of a skirmish. Looking out the window, the red- and green-clad warrior saw a few characters that he knew fighting what appeared to be some kind of demonic dog or wolf. Whoever, or whatever, took his armor also took from him his trusted blade, Gurgurant, so even if he wanted to help, he couldn't. Not to mention that he had no clue where his feral mount was at. So Ashnard did what he wanted, which was continue to watch the fight from the safe distance he was at.

At the first sign of danger, Soren had concealed himself behind a flag that did not have its emblem ripped out. Demons had materialized from the distant mist formed of descending snow, ripping through the stony foundation with claw and fang alike. The mage peered out from behind the cloth, a drapery which boldly displayed an insignia of a kingdom that had preceded FEF.

He was hesitant to lift a finger to help. It did not ease his heart to see a strange man enrobed in wintry garments steal Nino away on a pillar of ice, and Soren could only stare in subdued awe at the formation that had risen before his very eyes.

Then Soren realized the aura that this figure exhumed — it was the same sensation he received whenever he beheld the foreign image exhibited across the wall's draperies. It was the coldest, emptiest feeling in the universe. Soren's face drained of color as he observed their regal guest, his breath losing its warmth as he puffed thin masses of mist into the air. A feeling of numb tranquility and elegance followed the man who had abducted Nino. Soren shook his head, not recalling the man's figure, face, or demeanor from any fragment of history or current events.

Soren quickly moved forward from the flag, having sighted allies fighting off the demons. But the mage realized he had no weapon on him. The leather-bound journal tucked under his arm was an ordinary book, the mug that had spilled cocoa onto the snow was obviously of no use, and Soren was not even carrying around a machete or dagger of any sort.

Curse my prayers, the young scholar thought with a roll of his eyes. I am of no use here.

Soren withdrew behind the drapery once more, then flit along the wall to escape the fringes of the battlefield. He saw no reason in jumping at a suicidal scenario.

Ninian could only watch as Nino was taken away by the strange newcomer. Knowing that she would not be very useful in a fight, she followed Nils back to the lake.