No Going Back

[Nasira]

April 15^th, Year 1, Outskirts of Paris

When the raiding party had departed, the sun was just coming up over the horizon, a soft glow of honey spilling over the muted desert in a gentle wave. When Nasira stopped by the city gate for a last glance at the palace, she did not know if she would ever see her home again. She had not asked herself that in a while.

A shudder racked her body as a biting wind blew over the hill. Paris was cold, and its dark sky loomed low, heavy with the promise of rain. Nasira hoped it would hold back just long enough to them to fight without the added difficulty of a storm.

Beasts of many shapes and sizes pullulated and swayed below like blades of grass, striking the Blackblood Legion in vicious waves. They had caught the enemy by surprise, but the Rogues had rushed in like a swarm of hornets protecting their hive, and they had not broken their charge yet. The field rang to the clangor of steel and the shrill screams of the wounded and dying.

Nasira looked expectingly at Frollo, awaiting further command. Frustratingly, Frollo had been given one last chance to redeem himself, and Nasira had been ordered to stay close by to, presumably, guard him. Nasira thought he was not competent to be in charge of a cow shed, much less an army, but alas, that was not her call to make.

Well, there was no point in worrying about it now; the battle must take precedence in her mind.

[Tucker]

The large shepherd dog stands a few feet behind Nasira and Frollo watching the waves of soldiers clash against each other. Hackles raised he was ready to lunge down into the fray to help his comrades with his battle. For a second his mind drifts to that of his friend, Benjamin and wondered if he was done there. He gives a shake of his head before looking up at Nasira.

“Just give me the word and I’ll help” he murmured softly, wanting to get a good angel to strike.


SLASH!

Blood sprays through the air as Rungnir’s blade slices into an soldier’s throat before doing the same to countless more opponents. The dire wolf didn’t utter a word as he takes down a slew of random black blood soldiers.

[James Hook]

Captain Hook wasn't even sure why he was here. He hadn't been in the other battles. He had no intention of coming here. But this must have been a big attack if they were going into the heart of those blasted Rouges. His quest for Peter Pan had been a failure. He hadn't found the scallywag yet, and it was trying his patience. He was here now. He walked in the front lines. His cutlass sheathed.

He spotted a random Rouge soldier lunge at him. Hook quickly unsheathed his cutlass and ran it through the Rouge's body. He ripped it out and kept on walking, sheathing his cutlass as he walked.

He was a coward, but if that opponent was open, he'd surely be there, ready to plunge his cutlass into their chests.

[Erick]

The mutt was in his element, many a bar fight helped in this skill. Erick was a fair fighter, with dog on dog combat he mostly came out on top. The spotted mutt’s teeth clamp down into an enemy’s throat ripping it clean out savage snarling follows after the deed was done and he looks around for another to slaughter.


Chloe rolls with a random feline, the stupid cat had decided it wanted to take her off so she gladly excepted. Teeth snap down on its back as she shakes the body roughly breaking its back in two before tossing the body aside. Her brown eyes turn watching a massive wolf kill one of their soldiers and will a shove of her paws off the ground, she was charging towards Rugnir aiming to slam into his side.

[Jenn]

The word of a battle on the outskirts of Paris reached the Rouges stationed in the Underworld rather quickly, and it didn't take long for reinforcements to arrive on the scene, Jenn leading the charge. 
Flying above the battling crowd below, she scanned the Legions forces as they battled her allies. It didn't take her long to find a familiar face.

Folding her wings in she dove down, stopping just short of Nasira, a vengeful glint in her gaze.
"Fancy seeing you here," she taunted, her attention only momentarily shifting to the man standing next to her, before focusing fully on Nasira again, blade in hand and a glow in her eyes. She wasn't going to let the necromancer get the upper hand on her again.

[Lindsay Curie]

Lindsay was never one for delegation. The General who fought abreast with his soldiers gained more respect than the one hiding in the back.

There’s a muffled howl, and for a moment, Lindsay’s almost forgotten what she was doing. Her hand, now formed more into a spreading pool, holds a guard by the face a few feet clear of the ground. As the guard struggles wildly in her grip— finally caught the bugger. She’d forgotten just how wiggly humans could be in a fight. —her gaze slides to two familiar figures, standing further back. One was that ‘Frollo’ troglodyte. Really, she thought, the head of this army was either far too obvious in her favorite playing, or she was just as dense as he was. He should have been slain where he stood. He was nothing but a major hinderance. But sure enough, there he was, thinking he’s leading the army to victory. Idiot.

The other... that one is ‘Nasira’. The only other feminine Overseer. She wasn’t exactly positive why she wasn’t the one leading the way. From what she’d gathered, Lindsay was aware that this human could be both calculating and bloodthirsty. A perfect blend for the spearhead of an attack; deadly, yet discerning.

But instead, they had the Neanderthal and his self-inflated ego. Graaaand.

Golden gaze shifts away from her fellow Overseers as the form in her grip finally falls limp. There’s.. a noise. Bubbly, squishy, like putty being pushed through a tube. A ripple runs down her arm, and mass begins to return to her limb. It becomes apparent that she hadn’t simply been smothering the soldier in her grip, but instead pumping her own liquid mass into any orifice within her grasp. She’d essentially poisoned the poor thing from the inside out...

Lithe fingers finally form again, and she finally lets the corpse go. Instead of hitting the ground, however, it fades away in a shimmer of blue light.

Something to study later.

A soft noise escapes the alien as she glances about at the chaos. These humans were a bit too... standard. Maybe something else would make good study...

[Rhea]

    War. War never changes. That much Rhea knew in her very heart. The war that was consuming the mortal world was raging like an untamed fire and left no part of the world untouched it seemed. But the Blackblood Legion had made their move onto France, her newer home, the place that the Rogues made home. She wasn't a fighter, but she was a healer. She would do what she could to help the rogues to survive.

    Rhea paused as she continued healing a rogue who fell with rough wounds. These wounds would heal after her magic was done, but their friend wasn't as lucky. They fell before she could do anything, and the wounds ran too deep. They were gone and on their way to whatever place their soul would go. The rogue she healed was crying for their lost friend, but a vigor of rage filled them before they went back into the fray of the battle. It could be the last time she would see them, most likely.

    The titan tried not to dwell on it. It was no use getting up in arms about those who she didn't know and feeling sorrow for them. Her experiences of war taught her that much, and she put it to good use. But as soon as she was up, she just barely avoided the blade of a blackblood ghazi. It grazed her side, and blood stained her dress. Rhea hissed from the pain, but she had felt worse.

    "You will not fell me this day!" She yelled in defiance towards her opponent. She didn't want to kill, so stalling them would do. A wave of her left arm and thick brambles ensnared the ghazi's legs just enough that she could run to escape. She thanked the stars for it, as she ran from the ghazi who shouted less then happy words at her, but it didn't matter. She needed to help the injured now. 

[Claude Frollo]

"And so it begins.... Home..." Frollo said to himself. He couldn't say that he was ready for this. This was his part of the reason for fighting, so that he may free France from the clutches of the Rogues at last. Maleficent had given him one last chance and he definitely was not going to mess this up.

"Ever the Valiant Priest, aren't you Claude?" Frollo heard a voice, but it was if it had come from nowhere. "Let's have a Talk. Shall we?" His vision began to blur, and then there was darkness. 

Frollo stood in a room that seemed to go on forever. In front of him were two seats, both of them white. "Please, sit down," a voice said from the darkness. 

"Who are you?" he demanded.

"I am the one asking the questions here. Please sit down," the voice said in a firmer tone.

Frollo reluctantly sat down in one of the chairs. As he did, the chair changed color from a brilliant white to a dirty grey.

A man in white came out of the darkness and sat in the other chair. "Do you know who I am, Claude?" he asked.

"No," Frollo replied with a dull growl.

"Well, you must know who I am. After all, we've been so close for so long. It's almost like we're partners."

Frollo glared at the man in white. "YOU!"

"Yes, me," the other said. "I am the spirit trapped in your sword. And we are sitting in what is called the space between your eyes. In other words, your head, or if you will, your mind. You may call me - Roland. It's nice to meet you face-to-face at last."

"And what is it you want with me?" demanded Frollo.

"Why, dear priest, I just want you to listen and realize that everything you are doing is wrong. You are trying to lead an army of the greatest evil force that the world has ever known, and yet you believe that you are doing God's work. How I must applaud you for being so damned blind. Look at your army!"

As Roland finished, the darkness went away and the room was filled with everyone else in the Black Blood Legion. He pointed his hand out to them. "Do these look like the Soldiers of God to you?"

Frollo looked at the Legion. He knew they were sinful and he knew their hatred of him, but he showed no care of the matter. "It is not them I care about."

"Ah, the Lady Maleficient!" Roland exclaimed. "Your 'Saviour from On High', was it? That woman is nothing but a charlatan and her magic is as strong as a small child's! A few displays of magic and you are charmed by her! She is not the Saviour you are looking for. She is but a devil, a fiend in a black dress that taunts and uses her toys until she has used them up and then discards them to the wayside, broken. You, Claude, are reaching that point very soon."

Frollo stiffened. "You speak lies!" he snapped.

Roland looked at Frollo with serious eyes and regarded him with pity. "You have held my hilt for many a fortnight. We have slain those who were unjust, for the Glory of God, in our own way. Not once have I slain an innocent soul, for if you had come across one, I would have stopped you.

"Maleficient sees you merely as one of her toys, to be played with and discarded when you stop being fun. It is about time that you got off your ass and saw the world for what it really was."

The members of the Legion faded away into darkness and in front of the two was a scene of what was happening on the battlefield. Roland pointed up at the sky. "Do you know what that is?"

Frollo squinted as he looked up and saw Jenn. "It is a Rogue. What of it?" 

"That 'Rogue', as you call it, is a servant of the Lord herself. She is an angel of God. Now observe the situation."

They stepped back and saw the full view of the battlefield. "This is the army that the angel was fighting for. You know, God's Messenger?" Roland circled his finger around the Rogues that were fighting on the battlefield. "These are the ones who are fighting with an angel of God." Then he gestured at the Legionnaires. "And these are the ones who are fighting against an angel of God." Finally, he pointed at Nasira and Frollo. "And you two are the commanders of those Legionnaires. Any questions?"

"Yes," Frollo said, "just one. How gullible to you think I am?"

"Very, seeing as you think the Queen of all Evil is a 'Saviour of God'."

Frollo tried to reach for his weapon. Roland tsked. "We're inside your brain, moron. Look, I want to set you on the right path. Following Maleficient will lead you down the path of ruin. Following the Rogues, with the information you have, may lead to your salvation. Perhaps even the salvation of the world. Maleficient and her ilk are evil. I will give you a temporary connection with me. This way you can sense how evil they are with your own eyes."

And like that, it was over. Frollo blinked his eyes. It was as if it had just been a dream, a long and vivid one, but a dream nonetheless. He looked at Nasira. "What is the status -"

Before he could finish, he felt something emanating from her. It was a feeling of resentment, a dark, deep feeling, along with the Darkness of her magicks. Frollo jumped. He knew she was a necromancer and Dark magic was something she used, but he had never truly realized the Darkness of it; how evil it felt.

He looked around. All of the Legionnaires radiated with the same black energy, some darker than others.  The Rogues also radiated with that energy, but to a lesser amount. Some of them were even radiating with a pure white energy, with the brightest energy source of them all coming from Jenn, floating right above them.

"My God, what have I been doing all this time!?" he cried under his breath.

A voice seemingly coming from nowhere started singing, "And at last you've seen the light, and it's like the fog has lifted...."

"Quiet you!" Frollo thought to himself.

"Oh, so you can respond to me without looking like an idiot! Good job!" Roland's voice echoed from the sword. "No one else can hear me but you. Let's keep it that way."

"So what shall I do?" Frollo mentally wondered.

"The way that I see it, you have three choices. One, you leave the Legion and join the Rogues and warn them of the impending disaster of the Undead Army and the Apocalypse. And hey, they might let you live afterwards! Two, you can stay being Maleficient's meat puppet until she decides you're no longer fun and discards you. Or three, you can die. Oh, there is the 'Damn it all to Hell' option, where you leave and never look back, but I wouldn't like that choice and neither would you. Trust me. So, make your peace and make your choice. I know there is a good man in you, Claude. I know you will do the right thing."

Frollo pulled his sword from the sheath and looked at Nasira, then up at Jenn. "Nasira, what is the status of our troops?" 

[Callista]

CcrrrACK!

THUMP.

The lifeless body of a Rogue soldier fell to the floor, their head twisted completely backwards on their shoulders. Callista quickly shoved them aside and ducked behind the open window, taking out a clip of bullets and filling up her rifle's loading ports quickly as she could. She would feast upon their blood later-- right now, taking out as many enemy soldiers as she could was her priority.

The vampire could see daylight begin to break and she knew she had to find at least some kind of shield from the sunlight. She knew Paris had many old and abandoned buildings she could take cover, and she expected having to find a place to isolate herself from the rest of the army while still being able to assist. She had cornered a Rogue soldier who had the same idea, crouching on the second floor beside an open window with a sniper rifle at the ready and steadying their reticle to make a shot, and she quickly snapped their neck before they could call for help or alert their superiors that a Blackblood had infiltrated on their territory.

She swiveled her bat-like ears around, nervous that another Rogue would come thundering into the abandoned house and ambush her, but it seemed all the other soldiers were too focused on the wave of Blackbloods pushing back at them from the outside. Good. She would be relatively safe up here, both from the Rogues and the sunlight. She had a thick hijab-like veil around her head to help shield her eyes from the piercing morning sunlight-- thankfully, it was rising from the opposite direction she was facing, so she could actually see what was happening.

She loaded the last bullet into the gun and took her position. She noted that there was no army getting the higher ground over the other right now, they seemed right in a deadlock as far as progress was going. Well, hopefully she would change that. She grinned to herself and put one eye to the reticle, aligning the crosshairs to the head of one isolated Rogue.

"Got you," she whispered to herself.

She pulled the trigger.

---

Not too far behind the two overseers stood Shion, her long horns jutting out over the crowds of Blackbloods pouring into the city. Shion was not altogether happy about being in battle; she was not as physically fit as she used to be, and she was not accustomed to physical violence either. She was a business woman, not a juggernaut!

Regardless, she held a spiked ball-and-chain flail in her front hoof, the chain slung over her shoulder and the blunt spikes digging into her back slightly. Well, she supposed, if she was going to be out here, she may as well put up the best fight she could. She was no good with a long-range weapon, nor did she have the skill to use a sword... so a heavyweight flail was the only weapon she could properly use.

She got a bit of a smirk on her muzzle, thinking about letting that spiked ball sail through the air and rip through flesh and bone... maybe she was getting a bit of a thirst for blood. She would be damned if she was going to let these brutes overpower them. She was defending her family name with her very life, and she would not let an army of brutes lay claim to the land that was rightfully hers. This, she supposed, was the first step forward.

She stomped her back hoof on the ground and scraped it back a few times, as she prepared to charge straight forward into the chaos. She would not let her age deter her for fighting for her family's honor. Her head bowed and she positioned her huge horns toward the crowd, ready to skewer any unfortunate rogue caught in her bath. With a resounding cry of ferocity, Shion dashed straight into the fray, her huge flail sailing through the air and her horns at the ready to rip and tear the flesh of anyone who dared to challenge her.

She threw her head up, slicing a soldier nearby, and then threw her arm to the side, sending the flail whisking through the crowd.

[Sable]

The screams of dying soldiers rang through Sable's mind.

She stood locked up in terror, watching enemy soldiers rip their way through her fellow Rogues. There was so much blood. There were so many bodies. It was horrible. She could scarcely believe her eyes, seeing one soldier after another dropping like flies as the Blackbloods pushed further into Rogue territory. She had stayed behind in the lines so she did not have to directly attack the enemy, but the farther they came toward Paris, the more terrified the pine marten became.

Her paws shook furiously, barely able to keep a grip on the mortar she hid behind. She wanted to avoid firing it as long as she could... she didn't think she had the heart to set it off even if she had to. She had caused enough violence as a child, she did not want to commit any more counts of murder. She knew that this was what she had been getting herself into, but she didn't realize it would be this horrifying.

She couldn't take it. She left the mortar behind, sprinting away from the battle on all fours. She wasn't going to watch any more people die...

WHAM!

Something -- someone -- hit her directly in the side, and she was sent skidding along the ground. She gasped for breath, the impact knocking the wind right out of the marten. She was completely vulnerable, and could barely process what was happening around her. An enemy soldier saw their chance...

---

"What are you doing?! I told you, I can do this!"

"I am not letting you go out there alone!" Darren cried over the clamor of battle. He yanked Jay back by the hood of his sweatshirt, making the younger boy huff in frustration. "There are people being killed out there, Jay! I don't want you to die...!"

"I don't want you to die either!" Jay yelled back at the darker-skinned boy, making him flinch a bit. "This is exactly what we knew we were getting into when we came here. I'm going to fight. If you're so scared, go back to base."

"Absolutely not," Darren replied, a more serious tone in his voice now. He pulled Jay closer so that he was holding his boyfriend's face close to his. "I'm not doing this without you. I'm not scared. I want to help you. We got into this together and I'm not going to let you get killed out there because you thought you were tough enough to handle it yourself."

Jay had no reply. He just sighed and placed his hand above Darren's, staring into his green eyes deeply. He felt tears start to form in his eyes, but Darren quickly wiped them away. The two boys simply looked into each other's eyes for a brief moment before Darren pulled Jay into a warm, tight hug.

"We're doing this together. Because I love you. We're going to be okay."

Jay nodded. "We're going to be okay," he repeated. It was mostly just to convince himself. The boy couldn't deny he was scared to death, even with his loyal boyfriend by his side. But he felt a bit less so now. They would be okay.

Darren rubbed Jay's back for a bit before they both stood back up straight and unsheathed the swords they had clipped to their belts. They gave each other a nod, Darren with a confident grin on his face.

"Let's get out there and kick some ass."

Jay grinned back. "Right behind you, babe."