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The buller deflected at the ground. Sacros smiled, Viken had forgotten the dark shield he had upon him. Growling he smiled "You shouldn't lose your temper" he said, thrusting his sword through Viken's chest he let Viken drop, sliding off the sword. He the walked to the exit of the temple and grinned, looking at the sky. "Time to fly, although, i will be back" he said angrily, annoyed he had achieved no items, although he had had a good time. His wings spread out wide and he bent his legs. He immediatly jumped, his wings flapping he rose into the sky, he headed for some forests near Laburnum, to rest up and prepare for his next move. The Festival of Light.

(( Now... about those NPCs... lets see how 3 would work... ))

All of this happened near the gates, and in the surrounding area of the courtyard, not coming near enough to the towers themselves to cause the students who hid amongst the collumns and peered out the windows to jump in fright, though it did stir the attention of most who were not completely blind and deaf.

From the main entrance of the South Tower, a middle-aged man stepped through the congregation of onlookers; a journeyman who had stopped at the temple for a reprieve from his wanderings, and he was quickly followed by two others, younger, though looking no less worn from the road. The dining room was in an uproar from this scene that was taking place, and it had gone so far as to rouse the three of them from their meals, and the sight that greeted their eyes when they reached the clearing of the courtyard was far from a welcome one.

Without even halting their movement the three quickly summoned their shields and their spirits, carrying on at a hurried pace to shorten the distance between themselves and this man who had committed such an attrocity. The adept journeyman calling forth a swirl if five spheres of light and spirit which hovered in a circle about his left wrist; and the two acolytes who had joined him readied their own spells, holding their hands in front of their chests and summoning a warm glow of white light between them, which had yet to take definite form.

"What is the meaning of all this!?" the leader of the three shouted towards the interloper as his right hand reached over and plucked one of the spheres from the bracelet which had formed about his hand.

EDIT: Disclaimer: I haven't read the last two posts yet.

((no you don't, silly!))

((slifer! as in the character, wtf did he do?!))

(( For all purposes... I severely doubt any competant temple guards would have let the man get away, considering he's surrounded on all sides and all that...

BUT... if he does get away, I get to have more fun with the NPCs. :shwee! whee :

*Sounds the trumpets.* Release the hounds, boy'z. domokun ))




As Viken slipped to the ground beside the shadowy figure that had encroached upon the sanctity of the light temple, the three journymen rushed into action. Far from being able to leave a dying man to serve his fate, their first thoughts were towards the man who had defended the temple, rather than he who had attacked it. This shortsightedness on the parts of the three magi was enough to allow Sacros ample time to cover ground as he bolted for the exit, and for his own salvation from the first of many angry magi who were sure to come ruin his fun.

The adept quickly rushed forwards towards Viken, seeing only the wounded man now, and not the other, whom his associates were doing a better job of keeping tabs upon. This journeyman, however, was intent upon keeping Viken alive as best he could, rather than wasing time chasing after a murderer who could be dealt with later... a dead man could not be dealt with later.

"Hold fast, comrade," he shouted as he dropped to a knee quickly beside the slain guardian, reaching to the remaining four spheres of light which he held in his left hand and meshing them together into one larger sphere, which he seemed ot hold in his hand, tough it actually hovered a few inches from any contact at all with him.

A quick thrust forwards with it, and the sphere seemed to simply melt, forced into the wound, itself, in Viken's chest and disappearing from sight entirely, save for a powerful glow of white light which emenated from inside the wound. Quickly, as if it were water bursting forth from a dam, the man's flesh rejuvinated, healing in upon itself and reforming to every severed portion; doing so quickly so that the entire process took little more than a few seconds.

The two acolytes who had accompanied the adept, however, were less inclined to let this barbarian escape after the deeds he had done. The two chased after, but were not quick enough to catch him before he took off into the air.

However, their spells already prepared, the two let loose with the energy they had set aside for this very purpose; the two of them, almost in unison, thrusting their hands forward, palms out, towards the dark figure which was making it's way off through the sky. As if they were a volley of arrows fired, two dozen sharp needles of hardened light shot forwards and into the air, unerringly shooting towards their target, and spreading as they moved into a cone of needles.

The 'man' that had done this may have taken to the air, but he was not far enough yet for their spell not to reach him and shred those wings of his to pieces.

(( And that should be that. ::snickers:: ))

"'He'," the adept said, still kneeling beside the fallen man, though reaching forwards with his right haand to summon another ball of spirit and light, before wiping it across Viken's wounds and allowing them, too, to heal over... though much more slowly than the others had, "has fled. Though he will not get far, you have my word on that."

Without wasting another moment, the adept bowed his head to Viken respectfully and pushed himself to his feet, not even saying farewell as the journeyman rushed towards the temple gates, picking up his two companions on the way, who fell in step behind him.

"Hurry, my friends, the fiend must not be allowed to get far!" he shouted as the three hurried through the gates and after the shadowy figure which had disappeared over the high wall.

(( *Ends it like that, because he doesn't want to outright say that Sacros' wings were shreded by the light arrows and the creature fell into that forest that he was attempting to fly over.* ))

As if the floodgates had opened, the students, initiates, and all others of the like that had sequoistered themselves within the saftey of the towers surrounding the courtyard suddenly rushed forwards. Now, uninhibited by the prospect of life-threatening danger that might await them, they hurried towards the wounded to see if they could do anything to save them. Groups gathering around each to watch as the skilled set to work mending broken bones and healing gashes that had been torn in the skin of the wounded. Other groups gathering around the fallen to mourn their passing...

It was a sad site... and one that wouldn't soon be repeated. True, the temple was a place of welcoming, accepting all who sought to find refuge within it, though there was a price to that saftey... the price that they had been lax in paying lately. To protect the weak, you must be strong... this they had forgotten lately in their efforts to shelter the world.