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They had come, and Mengyao was already lost within the frenzy of the fight. Eyes alight with a madness he dared not show most of the time, he pulled on the reins of his mount, sending the white horse into a loud whinny as she lifted her feet, hooves stamping the ground.

"Oh, look, the little peons have arrived."

One of them was attacking the female horsewoman he had met in the forest before. It was not so much that he cared for her well being (he did not even really know her) so much as it was the whole principle of the matter. They were attacking, and he would attack back. One side of his lips curling upwards in a smirk, Mengyao lifted the bow in his hands, pulled back the wire until the string was taut, and let loose the first arrow.



[ HP: 30/40
Target: Deryk
Damage: 6+3 = 9 ]

It was slightly dark as the stench hit her first, the smell of blood and of other things that summed up to one thing: battle, death, war. It was little wonder that they needed to arrive here as soon as possible, it was a massacre.

There was no time to speak, no time to take it all in, to think, no time to even tie your shoe (if you had shoes, thankfully she had boots with no laces.). She did not even have a chance to worry about her friends in this instance, it was all happening so quickly.

There was only time to react.

Takeru was summoned not even a moment later, charging in with her fellow comrades to try and even the odds.

The closest one to herself happened to be a male (so she thought, he was a little girly. But thats beside the point.) The tip of her blade went for him, hitting its mark but not doing the best of damage.

HP: 40/40
DMG: 2
Charge: 1/3

Alva nodded as Medea spoke, they would fight, and they would win. Conquest still had pride to uphold, and artisan or not, the instincts for battle, for the subjugation of humanity still coursed in his veins. Again he drew his bow as the new stream of hunters arrived on the scene, picking out a target as his steed pawed and snorted behind him, set to kick anyone who dared attempt to disrupt him.

He sought out Lily in the fray and gave her a dangerous smile. This would be fun.

HP: 35
Desc: Tall, slender man with an equine tail.






Rep meanwhile was a whole lot less ******** pleased, he'd entered the portal unsure what to expect, daggers in hand. They were smaller than he was used to, and two rather than the usual massive one that he wielded. They glowed, the only immediate light in the chaos of the night.

His blood ran cold as he spotted the fallen hunters, the precious sun emblem on a coat visible to him from here. Suns. Suns who had had their weapons.

The battle had started and he had no idea what he was supposed to do. He turned to Harrison, wishing he had a free hand to seize some hem of the other man's coat. He felt like a useless ******** child again and it was beyond awful. Horsemen. He could hardly focus, acutely aware of his own mortality in the presence of the awful creatures. He could only hope he was due some other miracle this ********>. What do we do?" He sought out Jordan too with a twist of guilt. This fight could be lost because of him holding back two very capable fighters with his own uselessness. "Well. I mean. Maybe not we, you guys can go fight, this is ******** dangerous. I can hide?"

HP: 30
Desc : Muscled redheaded bloke. WITH NO WEAPON. Using runic daggers.

The Conquest horseman continued to ride around the perimeter at a fairly consistent speed. While he moved about, he noticed one hunter standing before another. A defender? That was respectable... well as respectable as a hunter could get in Tseng's opinion.

He drew back another arrow, taking careful aim while he charged closer and closer.

"SHIELD BREAKER!"

Tseng turn 2
HP: 35
Target: Harrison
Damage: 0
Status: +2 damage

Even with his mask on, Wilson could see it was slightly dark. He briefly adjusted his mask before gripping his weapon again. As he ambled out of the portal, he scanned the trees. So, they were in a forest. He could hear the clatter of weapons clashing as he walked forward. The situation didn’t seem too bad at first glance. Why had Allan been so do—Wilson decided to look down. He tried not to let his gaze linger too long on the strewn limbs or the splattered coats blazoned with the familiar sun symbol. He tried to search for a horseman to target. That was the purpose of coming here, after all. The hunter ducked to avoid a few attacks before he spotted the back of what appeared to be a wolf pelt. To him it was a light shade of green, so maybe it was white.

He didn’t want to think about it too much, so instead he lunged forward to thrust the blades of his weapon into the horseman’s side. It was only when he began to step back to avoid a retaliatory attack did he realize that the horseman wasn’t alone. Wilson stared. That was great, just great.

HP: 50/50
Damage: 4
Charge: 1/3; 0/2 used
Turn: 1/3
Target: Senga

Bix came in quickly, ignoring the mangled Sun hunters littering the ground. Just the sight made sickness and anger rise in his throat. The scene was madness so he focused on things he recognized. The tall young man stuck close with Ceres. She'd been in the pod a while and he knew that with her medical skills and healing charge, he felt better knowing she was nearby.

"I got your back.." He called to her as she struck out at an elaborately robed horsemen.

He, of course, targeted someone he recognized. It was a habit of his to find those enemies in the crowd who continually showed back up. He didn't mean to make himself a target but found the familiarity made the fight mean more. He loosed several arrows at the heir, now heir to only ruin, and pinned her with a few of them.

HP: 50/50
Target: Eris
Dmg: 2
Charge: 1/3
Attack #: 1
Equip: Runic Torch x1
Description: Tall, lean albino with a long white braid and a feathered bow

Prey. Wait, what was that quaint little thing they called themselves? Hunters? How foolish. But here they were, swarming at them like ants when all they needed to do was lift a boot to rush their anthill.

No, Soren was not letting the rush of Fear go to his head.

But there, a hunter attacking (if it could even be called so) a priestess. Target acquired. He rushed him, not overly fast as large as he was, gauntleted hand extended into rake out toward the being that had tried to use his weapon against a priestess. But really, it all went back to the desire to fight. Seeing the hunter bleed was more satisfying than protecting a priestess he had no affinity to.

Soren turn 1
HP: 35/40
Target: Deryk
Damage: 4 + 2 = 6
Status: +2 damage for this attack

Something slammed into his arm, Gale letting out a small hiss of pain. Inside of his head, Jinhai made a muffled sound somewhere between a growl and a grunt, and Gale twisted around, the tail end of an arrow protruding from his shoulder. With an annoyed expression on his face, he reached up and yanked it free, the arrow dissolving between his fingers, Gale giving a sharp intake of breath at the rush of pain that engulfed his arm.

"Well, that was unpleasant."

<< You all right? >>

"As all right as I ever am."

He swung the rifle around again, this time pointing it at the horseman who had attacked him, and fired off a series of bullets.



[ HP: 49/60
Target: Tseng
Damage: 13
Charge: 2/3 ]