As expected of a time like this, Hopetoun was in chaos. People were running back and forth, some to fight and others to hide, while the group stood on the palisade to talk. Some animals seemed to be pushing people around, animals that seemed all too familiar. Yet one seemed to acknowledge Varlum but made no moves to stop him. Nir'wei's animals. Perhaps it remembered him from the battle against Kata, or perhaps it knew better than to try and force Varlum around.
"We need men to fight, not to hide" the Ithecal reinforced after Darius addressed Nir'wei, confirming his suspicions. "Keep these beasts away. Now isn't the time for cowering. Now we act."
Despite the chaos of it all, however, this was familiar. Storm's Edge had been no different, the first battle against the Flameborn had been no different. Everyone panicked and concerned, some rushing to battle while others rushed to safety. Maybe Varlum was simply a magnet for this kind of chaos. Or perhaps he simply had impeccable timing. Either way, he was here now. This was where he thrived. War. Battle. It was his domain, after all. Violence.
Seeing the history of the boats offered him very little, beyond the alchemy that had been used to create them and the image of just how old they were. Unfortunately, he knew nothing of alchemy and what it might mean. But he knew battle. These boats would sink, be it through the fire of his magic or his bare hands. He'd rip them apart himself if he had to.
At the sound of a familiar voice Varlum turned his gaze aside. "Well. Small fucking world" he couldn't help but smile at the sight of Elisabeth. First Nir'wei, now Elisabeth. All he needed was Faith to show up and everyone from his past would be making appearances. "Good to see you alive and well. And far stronger than I recall" he nodded, sensing the defiance spark that flared within her. Truth be told, he had changed too since they had last met. Stone had turned to magma, sharp spikes laced his back. But moreso, his mind had changed. Even when the battle had begun at Storm's Edge he had been a different man. He'd seen less. Fought less. That was the Varlum that threw himself under a spear to save a life and it had nearly killed him. Now he was Varlum, slayer of Kata. A man that had torched an Aukari from the inside with defiance.
Perhaps he was harsher now. Or perhaps he had just learned to do what had to be done.
His head turned to Darius as they spoke of the defenses available, as well as a battle plan. "We get to the waters edge, I'll make sure those ships don't touch the ground. I bear the mark of my father, Faldrun. They won't get close without burning" he explained, openly admitting to being the son of Faldrun. Perhaps it was brave, but Elisabeth knew him well enough to know he was good. Realizing that his mark of Faldrun would be news to her, and would likely surprise her given his blatant hatred of the Immortal, he turned his eyes to Elisabeth for a moment. "Long story."
When Darius pointed out that Varlum may need to keep his word sooner than he realized, however, the Ithecal nodded his head. "You keep your men behind me and I swear to you, I'll do everything in my power to keep them alive. You have my word."
That sentiment was quickly interrupted by the sudden burst of rain, however. It turned out the time for talking was over. As quickly as the rain poured so too did the phantoms in the rain appear. Shadowy figures that seemed to take the shape of an all too familiar group. An Aukari that had slaughtered his friends. Faldrun, his father. Kata, the Immortal he'd killed. All people he'd sworn to destroy given the chance, all of which had taken something from him.
With no hesitation Varlum let out his Dragon's Cry, turning to face the enemy ships. A loud roar that spanned over two miles burst out of the Ithecal. A part of it was the intimidation aspect, hoping to unsettle his enemies, even if it would unsettle his allies too. But more than that. It would draw attention to him, make him seem the bigger threat to his enemies. As such, he also activated his Serpent's Hood from his blessing of Ethelynda, making himself the main target to every hostile he could. He had no idea how these phantoms worked but he knew how it would effect mortals.
Without a second to breathe he turned himself to the others, head snapping back. "Prepare whatever troops you can, I can't let those ships get closer. If you can't make it to the beach then keep the settlement secure" he hissed at Darius and Elisabeth before turning to his various spirits. "You. Keep these fucking phantoms off me, keep me alive." he ordered to the hellhound before looking to the bear and summoning a Serpent of Ethelynda in front of him, another Spirit to add to the list. "Let no man or woman die if you can help it. You see a civilian under attack you help pull them to cover!"
With that order given, and with no time to discuss or argue with the others, Varlum threw himself off the outside of the pallisades with a leap. As he got closer to the ground he prepared to meld with the Earth, sinking into it immediately as if he was diving into water. He had a short distance to travel to the beach but he needed to get closer to the ships. If it was simply the ships he would have no fear, no worry of the enemy breaking through his shields. But the rain changed everything. They had magic of some kind, or a blessing. Something empowering them. It made them unpredictable. He couldn't leave the fight to chance.
So he'd take the battle to them.
As he rushed through the ground towards the beach he allowed the scratch on his hide to draw on Syroa's corruption, calling upon a pair of leathery wings that would sprout out of his back. They enhanced his control over fire and air, making him stronger. It was a dangerous combination. Faldrun's blessing, Defiance at a level very few could obtain and these wings. He could summon heat that would tear flesh apart in moments, burn ships with ease and even melt stone. Which meant these ships would fall fast - or at the very least the people onboard would die.
On the surface his hellhound rushed to the beach with him, while his other various Spirits ran through Hopetoun to protect anyone they could find, dragging them to shelter. As of right now the rain couldn't touch him, meaning the phantoms had no sway over him. It was his only moment of respite, however. Soon he would be on the surface again. Soon he would be face to face with his enemy.
Once he was at the beach he would rise from the ground and stand before water. The rain wasn't pouring over the boats. Perhaps they weren't immune to their own abilities, or maybe only the person casting them was immune. That was how most of his own power worked. It didn't discriminate targets, friend or foe. The boats were vulnerable. So long as they weren't fireproof he would be able to sink them here and now.
Only one way to find out.
From above the boats the sky would turn red as Fire Fall was called upon. They wanted to rain hell on Hopetoun? Then Varlum would let it pour. Small blasts of fire poured out in a random pattern over a 150ft radius, targeting at least one boat, more if he could fit it in the radius. As the fire would fall Varlum would use his Defiance and his Elemental manipulation to ensure they hit their mark by targeting them to each boat, as well as raising the heat so the flames would fall white hot, capable of scorching flesh, woods and even burning through stone. Combined with the wings of Syroa on his back and he would ensure the heat was like nothing these pirates had ever seen. This was only the beginning of what the Mortalborn could do - and he would use it all if it meant keeping the innocents behind him safe.
Should he be in range of any phantoms his Spirit of Turmoil would seek to fight them, growing stronger the more chaos and turmoil was around him. It would be enough to keep them at bay for now he hoped. All of his focus went on torching those ships before the people or weapons on board would become a threat. As one final attack on the enemy he would call on Solar Purge. A beam of pure sunlight, targeted directly for one ship. Hot enough to try and cut a hole clean through the hull.
"Come on. What else have you got?"
"We need men to fight, not to hide" the Ithecal reinforced after Darius addressed Nir'wei, confirming his suspicions. "Keep these beasts away. Now isn't the time for cowering. Now we act."
Despite the chaos of it all, however, this was familiar. Storm's Edge had been no different, the first battle against the Flameborn had been no different. Everyone panicked and concerned, some rushing to battle while others rushed to safety. Maybe Varlum was simply a magnet for this kind of chaos. Or perhaps he simply had impeccable timing. Either way, he was here now. This was where he thrived. War. Battle. It was his domain, after all. Violence.
Seeing the history of the boats offered him very little, beyond the alchemy that had been used to create them and the image of just how old they were. Unfortunately, he knew nothing of alchemy and what it might mean. But he knew battle. These boats would sink, be it through the fire of his magic or his bare hands. He'd rip them apart himself if he had to.
At the sound of a familiar voice Varlum turned his gaze aside. "Well. Small fucking world" he couldn't help but smile at the sight of Elisabeth. First Nir'wei, now Elisabeth. All he needed was Faith to show up and everyone from his past would be making appearances. "Good to see you alive and well. And far stronger than I recall" he nodded, sensing the defiance spark that flared within her. Truth be told, he had changed too since they had last met. Stone had turned to magma, sharp spikes laced his back. But moreso, his mind had changed. Even when the battle had begun at Storm's Edge he had been a different man. He'd seen less. Fought less. That was the Varlum that threw himself under a spear to save a life and it had nearly killed him. Now he was Varlum, slayer of Kata. A man that had torched an Aukari from the inside with defiance.
Perhaps he was harsher now. Or perhaps he had just learned to do what had to be done.
His head turned to Darius as they spoke of the defenses available, as well as a battle plan. "We get to the waters edge, I'll make sure those ships don't touch the ground. I bear the mark of my father, Faldrun. They won't get close without burning" he explained, openly admitting to being the son of Faldrun. Perhaps it was brave, but Elisabeth knew him well enough to know he was good. Realizing that his mark of Faldrun would be news to her, and would likely surprise her given his blatant hatred of the Immortal, he turned his eyes to Elisabeth for a moment. "Long story."
When Darius pointed out that Varlum may need to keep his word sooner than he realized, however, the Ithecal nodded his head. "You keep your men behind me and I swear to you, I'll do everything in my power to keep them alive. You have my word."
That sentiment was quickly interrupted by the sudden burst of rain, however. It turned out the time for talking was over. As quickly as the rain poured so too did the phantoms in the rain appear. Shadowy figures that seemed to take the shape of an all too familiar group. An Aukari that had slaughtered his friends. Faldrun, his father. Kata, the Immortal he'd killed. All people he'd sworn to destroy given the chance, all of which had taken something from him.
With no hesitation Varlum let out his Dragon's Cry, turning to face the enemy ships. A loud roar that spanned over two miles burst out of the Ithecal. A part of it was the intimidation aspect, hoping to unsettle his enemies, even if it would unsettle his allies too. But more than that. It would draw attention to him, make him seem the bigger threat to his enemies. As such, he also activated his Serpent's Hood from his blessing of Ethelynda, making himself the main target to every hostile he could. He had no idea how these phantoms worked but he knew how it would effect mortals.
Without a second to breathe he turned himself to the others, head snapping back. "Prepare whatever troops you can, I can't let those ships get closer. If you can't make it to the beach then keep the settlement secure" he hissed at Darius and Elisabeth before turning to his various spirits. "You. Keep these fucking phantoms off me, keep me alive." he ordered to the hellhound before looking to the bear and summoning a Serpent of Ethelynda in front of him, another Spirit to add to the list. "Let no man or woman die if you can help it. You see a civilian under attack you help pull them to cover!"
With that order given, and with no time to discuss or argue with the others, Varlum threw himself off the outside of the pallisades with a leap. As he got closer to the ground he prepared to meld with the Earth, sinking into it immediately as if he was diving into water. He had a short distance to travel to the beach but he needed to get closer to the ships. If it was simply the ships he would have no fear, no worry of the enemy breaking through his shields. But the rain changed everything. They had magic of some kind, or a blessing. Something empowering them. It made them unpredictable. He couldn't leave the fight to chance.
So he'd take the battle to them.
As he rushed through the ground towards the beach he allowed the scratch on his hide to draw on Syroa's corruption, calling upon a pair of leathery wings that would sprout out of his back. They enhanced his control over fire and air, making him stronger. It was a dangerous combination. Faldrun's blessing, Defiance at a level very few could obtain and these wings. He could summon heat that would tear flesh apart in moments, burn ships with ease and even melt stone. Which meant these ships would fall fast - or at the very least the people onboard would die.
On the surface his hellhound rushed to the beach with him, while his other various Spirits ran through Hopetoun to protect anyone they could find, dragging them to shelter. As of right now the rain couldn't touch him, meaning the phantoms had no sway over him. It was his only moment of respite, however. Soon he would be on the surface again. Soon he would be face to face with his enemy.
Once he was at the beach he would rise from the ground and stand before water. The rain wasn't pouring over the boats. Perhaps they weren't immune to their own abilities, or maybe only the person casting them was immune. That was how most of his own power worked. It didn't discriminate targets, friend or foe. The boats were vulnerable. So long as they weren't fireproof he would be able to sink them here and now.
Only one way to find out.
From above the boats the sky would turn red as Fire Fall was called upon. They wanted to rain hell on Hopetoun? Then Varlum would let it pour. Small blasts of fire poured out in a random pattern over a 150ft radius, targeting at least one boat, more if he could fit it in the radius. As the fire would fall Varlum would use his Defiance and his Elemental manipulation to ensure they hit their mark by targeting them to each boat, as well as raising the heat so the flames would fall white hot, capable of scorching flesh, woods and even burning through stone. Combined with the wings of Syroa on his back and he would ensure the heat was like nothing these pirates had ever seen. This was only the beginning of what the Mortalborn could do - and he would use it all if it meant keeping the innocents behind him safe.
Should he be in range of any phantoms his Spirit of Turmoil would seek to fight them, growing stronger the more chaos and turmoil was around him. It would be enough to keep them at bay for now he hoped. All of his focus went on torching those ships before the people or weapons on board would become a threat. As one final attack on the enemy he would call on Solar Purge. A beam of pure sunlight, targeted directly for one ship. Hot enough to try and cut a hole clean through the hull.
"Come on. What else have you got?"
- A singular feather from Cassion's eagle. One use to call for the aid of the Eagle, wherever Elisabeth may be.
)