Trench 3: Healing

[Vissiand Morgale]

Trench List:
Carson
Lluvia
Prof. Ann Xiang
Jon
Fiach
Rupert
And anyoen else who isn't on the other two lists and wants to post here. Oh, and this IS the healign trench, but you'll still be fighting. This one just has all the healers...so if you're a healer, come to this trench!

[Karia Sto-Helit]

Carson was panicking. Silently, but he was still panicking. Following Jon's advice, he had avoided all forms off caffiene, but it didn't matter. He was so jazzed he may as well have drunk a whole coffee house out of business. But he didn't show it; all that tipped anyone else off was the fact that he was rather fidgety, an unusual thing for the Scotsman.

He was about to take a massive influx of casualties, and he knew it. This battle was going to be a bloody, chaotic mess, and somehow he had managed to head up the healing crew. It scared him to absolutely no end.

Taking a few deep breaths os the air wafting off the sea, he calmed his squirming insides a bit; he had to focus. Shrugging his shoulders, he turned the safety off on his P90 and aimed it out over the beach as the ships came into view.

His mind flashed to when his father had told him of a battle he had once been in. They were defending a city, the only city. The Wraith had tried to annihilate them. Carson had asked his father is he had been afraid. Terrified, the older man had replied, but I knew I just had to keep fighting, because people depended on me to help them.

You can do this, Carson he thought fervently to himself. You have to.

[Ann Xiang]

Glancing over at Carson, Ann gave him a shaky smile. She would have preferred to help the injured, but she knew she had to leave that job to the more proficient healers. Her job was to protect him and the other healers while they tended to the wounded. "Best of luck," Ann said to her trench-mates.

She scrambled backwards, swearing under her breath, as Ziltik leaped into the center trench and landed only a few feet away without so much as a warning. "Thanks for the heads-up," she grumbled.

Ann would have lectured the demon about the advantages of not stepping on his comrades, but there was no time for that now. Clenching her fist tightly around her wand, Ann watched as the first wave of invaders stepped onto the shore.

Almost immediately, the right- and left-trenchers went grenade-happy on the imps. Ann frowned. Weren't they being a bit too enthusiastic? At the rate they were using those grenades, they would run out soon. Time for an impromptu magic lesson.

"The spell is 'Expulso'," she called out to her comrades. Aiming her wand somewhere in the middle of the demon horde, she shouted the incantation. There was a noisy explosion, followed by flying bits of imp.

Ann grimaced. "Pleasant." She cast the same spell again.

[Lluvia Black]

Okay. Long-range fighting was not Lluvia's forte.

But long-range healing was.

She was shaking from something like agitation (Carson looked like he had had an entire bag of chocolate covered expresso beans though, so compared to him, she was pretty chill.) Everything had been prepared quite in advance, and everything tripple and quadruple checked, but that suddendly didn't matter.

This is not a video game, where once you die, a "Continue?" screen pops up. This is the real deal. Anyone can die here, and stay dead. No movie, no, "oops, I died - quick, hit the power button before it saves!"

Lluvis adjusted her sash and was suddendly aware that her usual dress was not "demon battle" wear. Nor was her hair, or her shoes... all of her preparation, and she had forgotten to change into some ass-kicking gear! Those demons would more likely die laughing at her blue dress and flats than be killed by a rouge spell. It was too late though.

Everything had already started.

[Karia Sto-Helit]

Hearing his professor call out the spell, Carson decided it would be better to hold off on the P90's until absolutely neccessary. The masses of ships and demons bearing down on the beaches just about made him faint, but he didn't stop. He was so far beyond fear now that there was nothing left but instinct. Carson was going to kill whatever wasn't in their fighting alongside him, and for once, his duties as a healer didn't make him feel conflicted about kicking some serious ass.

He held his wand aloft and he cast the same spell that Ann had instructed them. It wasn't nearly as effective, but a nearby imp did go up in a puff of smoke. Carson wanted to save all of his powers to heal, but if some serious dark magic came his way, he was going to break out the wings.

He shot the spell at another oncoming demon who disappeared in much the same fashion; it wasn't nearly as powerful as Professor Xiang's, but it would handle the little ones well enough.

You messed with the wrong Scotsman.

[Aleksei Trevelyan]

One of the strangest combatants by far on the Valcentican side, Jon stood on a rise that was roughly equidistant from both the healing tents and the third trench. Since the full moon was still high and heady, at least at night, he was in permanent werewolf form for at least the next few days. Discouraging, yes, but it made him just about the perfect retrieval dog. It was hard to concentrate amidst the smell of all the blood and smoke and steel and magic and cordite from the older guns, but he kept his eyes and ears open for the wounded.

And if any demons thought he'd make a good dinner, he'd give them a taste of lycanthropian fury. He'd had his Wolfbane Potion to grant him control, but the savagery of the werewolf was lurking beneath his enforced calmness, ready to strike out at any of the attacking demons. He was ready.

Meanwhile, back in the tents, Fiach, Carson's self-appointed assistant healer (being that he was part faerie as well), hefted a weighty spear, a dark fire smoldering in his eyes. He didn't want to fight, but he needed to use his magic for healing, so if there was anything that came to close-quarters, he'd help.

Unlike Fiach, Rupert was standing out near the fore of the front. In fact, he was even out of the trench, standing calmly before the demon hordes. There was a dagger in his belt, but he didn't think he'd need it, not with his new toy. No, the sword he now bore, the sword entrusted to him by his sister, was all the weapon he needed.

Some of the grunts with an IQ roughly equivalent to a 30-watt bulb paused in their mad rush, confused as to why the scrawny boy was standing in front of them with no evident fear. With a smile that he had very definitely inherited from his male parent, Rupert very slowly drew the sword. It looked like a simple skull-and-bones patterned hilt with no blade. The only indication of one was the slight glimmer of blue along one edge, of air molecules being shorn into their component atoms.

"Come on," he whispered, his odd-colored eyes boring holes into the horde. "Try the last of the Asgard on for size."

[Karia Sto-Helit]

As collected as Carson was trying to be when faced with so much epic danger, his walls were deteriorating a bit. He did not like killing things. He did not want to kill things. But things were trying to kill him, so he decided to screw the rules and pwn shit if it got near him.

As he thought that, a relatively large group of orcs tromped closer to him. He blinked a few times. His level of fear went so beyond panic, he thought he might have lost all control of his limbs. "Don't yeh dare come near me yeh freaks of horrendous and gah!!!!!!" he screamed incoherently, and unleashed a rain of magic on them. As he watched them Disappearing in a mist of blood and guts, Carson thought he might be sick, but he bit his tongue and kept fighting.

Succubi. Succubi. Succohmygodbi. Time seemed to slow down a bit as the demonic, though admittedly beautiful, creature stepped towards him. His brain stopped functioning and he felt his wand arm drop. The woman/demon got closer.

A picture of Jon ran clearly through Carson's mind, and he smiled his most evil smile. "Expulso!" he roared, and the succubi followed the orcs. "I'm gay, bitch."

[Aleksei Trevelyan]

On the ridge, a German Shepherd walked up and sat alongside the werewolf. Hey, he said in human-accented Cyene.

Hey, Jon said to Monty, only glancing over at him for a second before returning his gaze to the battlefield. Seen anything yet?

Nah, we're holding up good, the German Shepherd said. Lots of demons exploding down there. I kind of wish I was in the thick of it.

You would. A stream of incoherent Scots-accented babble reached Jon's ears, shortly followed by a statement that could only come from Carson. The werewolf grinned a doggy grin.

The sword worked much better than Rupert had expected. Why, he barely had to move and it had shorn another demon clean in two. There was a cold smile on the little boy's face as he spun with the invisible blade. It almost felt like an extension of his arms. Why, he could decimate the entire horde all on his own.

A demon girl, trying to look especially seductive, sauntered on up to him, hips a-shaking. Rupert had buried his sword point in the ground and was watching her interestedly.

"Succubus, right?" he asked, sounding bored. "There's two things wrong with your tactic. One, I haven't hit puberty yet. Two...well, my bloodline speaks for itself, so even if I had, you'd be out of luck."

The succubus only had time to blanch as she realized exactly what that was she'd been feeling, and then the vorpal blade went snicker-snack, and she was in pieces.

Rupert loved his sword.

[Karia Sto-Helit]

When they had all been briefed on the types of demons they'd be facing, Carson had found none of them amusing except the one Vissiand had called Wraith. They were not the Wraith he knew and loved, oh, no. These were name-stealing dark magic freakazoids that he had ever intention of wiping out. Sure, he hated his own Wraith, but he hated these guys for existing in contention with them.

Now that he was actually seeing one approaching, he didn't find them quite so amusing. However, knowing their most easily exploited weakness and prepared to deal with it, he smirked grimly.

"Yeh just walked in on a ligh' fairy protecting his family," he scolded. "No' a smart idea." A ball of white fire formed in his hand, and in a flash of white and blood-curdling screams, the Wraith retreated. Another ball of white fire followed, and the thing fell into ashes. It had mostly been done out of adrenaline, but he had to save his energy.

Righ'. No' doing tha' again unless I really have to...

[Aleksei Trevelyan]

As Jon was searching the field of battle for the wounded, so he could ferry them back to Carson, his sensitive ears picked up the sound of Professor Trevelyan yelling. With some effort, he could make out the words, but it sounded like a call to arms. When the red sparks flared up, the werewolf threw back his head and howled, the eerie sound carrying over the open space, all the way from the forest's edge to the very walls of the castle. Monty joined in, too, recognizing the scare tactic.

Time to ice these sons of bitches.

Meanwhile, back in the healing tents, the little faerie boy was losing power quickly. He was trying to keep himself upright, moving, and healing by drinking a lot of Red Bull, something he despised. He was going to keep drinking it, though, because it seemed to be helping. Fiach knew he was going to be an absolute wreck by the end of this siege, but he didn't care. He just didn't want any of his schoolmates to die.

Out in the thick of the fighting, Rupert didn't much care either way about living or dying. If it was his destiny to go out today, he wouldn't mind just so long as he got to take a fair number of the attackers with him. It was as easy as lopping heads off of dandelions. No, easier, and much more fun.

A frightening laugh tore itself from the mutt's throat as he twisted and sliced with the sword in an intricate dance of death. I hope I'm keeping you busy, Grandfather, he thought wickedly, striking almost quicker than the eye could follow, because my work here is not yet done.

[Karia Sto-Helit]

Carson wasn't able to hear Trevelyan yelling, but it was kind of hard to miss the clouds of red sparks and the masses of students storming onto the beach after their professor. As much as the light faerie wanted to go with them, he knew he had to stay where he was to be ready for whatever might happen to their band of defenders.

Plus, if he and the other healers got hurt, where then would they be? So Carson stayed behind, a permanent grimace now set on his face.

Okay, that message he didn't miss; mental ones were particularly hard to avoid. Carson had to admit they had been lucky up until now that no one had been hurt enough to require the services of a healer. But now that the vampire's dragon had signalled the alarm, the healer was pretty sure the tents wouldn't be empty for much longer.

The heralding in of the demon leader could only mean that the Valcentican group had wiped out a fair amount of the lower-level invaders, and now Ashkahn was sending in the big guns.

"Total annihilation my ass," he muttered angrily, shooting down another group of orc that stumbled towards the trench. "You 'ave no idea wha' yeh're getting yehrself into, mister..."

[Lluvia Black]

Lluvia's stomach turned as some orc guts got her right in the face. She let off a stream of curse words before promptly stomping on the dead demon's face. What? She was feeling mean. Payback's a pregnant dog.

There was a clear divide where the invisible protection shield and the beginning of the demon remains were. It was like heaven and hell's between right where she stood; right in front of her, more gross things came roaring out of nowhere, creating a terrible ruckus, while she only had to step back to be engulfed in a glittering, cool sheild and feel security wash over her- I SWEAR TO THE GODS, IF I STEP IN ANY MORE DEMON ENTRAILS-!

More curse words, and then something else - an incubus in front of her, looking like a devious demigod. Mmm, he had sexy eyes, and she liked the guys with the navel hair, yum...

"If you come any closer I'll rip off your testicles and turn your guts into snakes!!"

[Selena Tiber]

((Arden now plops into the trench with no left arm. Thanks))

[Karia Sto-Helit]

As Carson had suspected, the healing tents were not long to be empty. In the middle of the fray, as he tried desperately to search for someone if they were hurt while also keeping an eye on the large crowd of demons with one thought in mind: kill.

As he peered over the edge of the trench, a body fell in. And not just any body, a human body. A human Carson knew. A human that was also missing its left arm.

Oh, shit.

The Scotsman knew he had about thirty seconds until the body, which he now identified as Arden as he got closer, would no longer be alive. He had two options: heal the stump or find the arm and see if he could put it back.

Carson knew Arden would probably kill him if he woke up missing an arm. So he clamped off the major blood vessels with some tools in his vest, applied a tight tourniquet around the bloodied stump, and then tried to find the missing appendage. It would give him another couple of minutes to save the fellow student's arm.

"JON!" he called over the sounds of battle, hoping the werewolf could hear him. "Get him out of that trench! If I'm not back in two minutes, get them to heal his arm completely!" With that he hopped over the lip of the trench and searched for the severed limb.

[Aleksei Trevelyan]

The werewolf's ears perked up when he heard Carson's frenzied shout. Although the air was thick with the stench of blood and gore, it didn't take him too long to single out the human by the healing trench that was just bleeding life.

Two minutes. Right.

Monty! he said, bounding to the armless body. Keep an eye out for more wounded! I'm onto someone!

You got it, the German shepherd replied.

One thing that werewolves couldn't be matched for was speed. It took Jon about thirty seconds to dash down to where the body was lying.

One minute thirty.

That scent was familiar. He knew it well. Was that...was that Arden? Holy shit!

One minute twenty-five.

Working quickly, Jon carefully clamped his jaws around the shoulder that still had an arm attached to it, and began to walk backwards slowly, dragging Arden back to the healing trench. Luckily, he hadn't collapsed too far from the trench, so it was but the work of a moment to get him to the tent.

One minute ten.

It would probably have been smart of Carson to send him after the arm while the Scotsman stayed to look after Arden, but that was Carson for you. Jon couldn't speak English as a wolf!

Monty! Get back to the healing tent! If I'm not back in one minute, tell them to heal Arden's arm!

What?!

You heard me! Now come on! We don't have time to waste! Jon ran out onto the field of carnage, searching for one severed limb among hundreds.

One minute.

----

Meanwhile, the selfsame imp that had cut off Arden's arm was now in the healing tent, hiding under a bed. Soon he could kill all of the recovering warriors! Ashkahn would be pleased. Perhaps pleased enough to award him a promotion, or some sort of replacement for his missing foot. The little tisryk-latir with the invisible blade had sheared his right foot from his leg. He was no laftyl either - he was a proven combat veteran! And yet the boy with the invisible sword had nearly put paid to him. It was only by virtue of his size that he had been able to scurry away, propping himself up with his knife.

Now was his chance! He raised the nasty serrated blade and rush-limped from his hiding place, hell-bent on destruction. The movement drew Fiach's eye, and the faerie-boy darted over and snatched the little imp up. He couldn't kill it, of course. It was injured, and the Hippocratic Oath, while it didn't apply to him, was still a good guideline.

First, do no harm.

He plucked the wicked blade from the imp's hands and only barely avoided having his own scored deeply by its claws. Then a ball of soothing blue-green light appeared above his finger, and he prodded the imp in the forehead with it. The imp was knocked out almost instantly.

Fiach wrapped the imp up in his long-discarded jacket. It wouldn't be waking up until the battle was long over.