The Vulpine Supremacist leader winced as the little demon-lizard managed to score a hit on him, although the blow, being wielded by an inexperienced kit and being somewhat ameliorated by the lighter chest armor worn under him, was not immediately fatal. Blood did spurt forth from the wound-yet, likely to Cricket’s surprise, he actually seemed to embrace it as it brought her closer to him. Two paws reached out to try to grab her, and they would have almost succeeded if not for the fact that a castle-hardened sharp steel broadsword suddenly found itself slicing clean through his neck which was not protected in any way. He managed no last words as his head suddenly rolled off and into the floor, except, perhaps, for a bit of last minute revenge on the gecko as warm blood sprayed forth to try to cover her in it.
----
The second group of Vulpine Supremacists who had flanked around Minerva and Theo had thought their capture of the young foxkit would be quick and painless-something quickly proven to be quite wrong as the little bastard proved to be quiet wily and willing to fight down to his very own teeth to fight them. After much longer than might be expected, they managed to scruff him, with the young kit shouting that they were not his dad. Sneering, one of them reached over, and, with a deliberate gesture, backhanded the foxkit without second question. He was, after all, someone important to the traitor Ryalors-if not for his value, they would kill him right now.
Their advance out of the now-burning opera house was, for a moment, broken when the a table was thrown towards them-it did managed to strike two of them who grunted in pain and shock for a moment, though the one holding his grip on Finnian seemed unaffected, and the fourth guard has decided to go on another mission.
That looked towards the terrified jill who had been near the foxkit, and, now that Finnian had disobeyed them and was in their grasp, was just another weakness to be eliminated. He closed on her, humming and smiling as he brought his bloodied blade ever closer towards her.
“I would say sorry, lass, but you’re a not even a beast, yer a ‘tid. And your friend didn’t think it worth it enough to save your life by coming quietly-maybe he can come around to our cause in time. You, however, don’t have any.” He rose his blade up, and, in a moment Asta’s life would be over, because a certain fox had chosen to abandon his post for love rather than protect his charge.
---------
Time seemed to slow down for Alwyn as he closed the last few steps, now a fair amount in front of his men, in horror, as the foxes begin to grab his son, beating him, kicking him. Finnian bravely tried to call out that they were not his dad, and, in return, got smacked across the face by one of his kitnappers.
At the moment, something snapped inside him.
Perhaps it was the Rainblade blood-that side of the family had always, of course, been more wild, almost feral at times when it came to battle. Or, maybe it was some latent Ryalor part of him, the kind that had allowed his ancestors to strike forth from Westisle and carve a path of blood all the way from the heights of the northern mountains to the depths of the southern seas of Fyador. Deep down, though, it was something far more simpler, far more ancient, past any and all recorded history-rage, a deep, primal, hot rage that burned so hot it broke through all the conditioning of his youth, all the thousands of hours of Guard training meant to suppress it. They had hurt Finnian. They had hurt his son.
A bloodcurdling scream rose from his throat instead of the typical battlecry of the Guard, loud, grating, almost unnatural and demonic as it momentarily cut through all the noise of battle. The fourth guard whose sword was now only an inch away from Asta’s exposed neck froze-first because of the unholy noise, and second because his throat was impaled by a spiked front of a poleaxe. Alwyn did not even stop to check in on her as he kicked the beast off the end of it with powerful hindpaws, the dying, gurgling fox landing next to her, the fox staring with disbelief at Caden’s daughter as blood continued to burst from his throat and as he choked to death on it.
One of the other three supremacists had already moved to intercept him, slicing towards his back, sensing any opening but found his chest skewered by the other end of the poleaxe usually held towards the ground-a long, thick spike that was for far more than show and could be used in just such a situation. Alwyn left it in him as he continued his path of slaughter, drawing his broadsword-the second managed to draw his blade and strike a horizontal side slash at him, but the enraged Ryalor did not even bother to parry it, instead, he locked it in with the crook of his arm as it got stuck against the plate armor, then shoved his broadsword into the guts of the other todd to cause him the most painful, and lingering, death imaginable. He left the blade in him as he had no time. Finnian.
The last Supremacist, stunned by the sudden evisceration of his three squadmates, began to quickly make his way towards the exist, but, with the young kit fighting him, found it difficult. Cursing, he drew his knife, and held it to Finnian’s throat as the armor-clad demon continued to stride towards him.
“Listen, ye mad stoatie bastard, I don’t care who you are, you do anything and this-”
What the fox had not been good at, however, was judging the distance at which a beast who had been trained to an elite level could plausibly strike in paw to paw combat. In a surprisingly quick fashion for someone his size and especially with his armor, a leg flashed out and struck his opponent’s, causing him to momentarily be stunned, the blade sliding a little bit more from Finnian’s throat. It desperately tried to find its place there again, this time pressing down as if to slice flesh-but it met only the cold, hard steel of Alwyn’s gauntlets that intervened. Another punch to his side, and the young foxkit fell, somewhat undignified, to the ground. He snarled, and moved to bring up his blade, but the demon before him had other ideas.
Alwyn’s sharp, long canines bit directly into the throat of the Supremacist with all of his might-Finnian’s early attempts might have caused it to sting and penetrate slightly, but he was not grown, nor particularly muscular. Alwyn, however, was. Blood spattered upwards onto his face and his armor as he and the other todd went to the ground, the latter trying to struggle but finding himself unable to as the crazed demonic father of the foxkit bit deeper and harder, blood on his mouth and seeing red. In a few moments, it was over, the other todd stopped struggling. Alwyn spit out the blood and the flesh in his mouth, and, sat there breathing heavily and deeply, his mind still a haze of blood fury.
----
Theo, for his part, was not having the best of times, even with the help of Minerva. He was still outnumbered two to one, against beasts who had some military training and could strike in succession, with a blade with a shorter reach even with his armor. They had managed to strike him several times, although it was only minor, while he had been able to only score one minor hit on one of them. Still, all he had to do was buy time. Time for reinforcements to arrive. As the two moved in for another set of coordinated strikes on him, he bared his teeth.
Come and get me you bas-
Suddenly, some kind of unholy, demonic screech rippled throughout the burning auditorium, and, for a moment, both he, and the two engaging in combat with him, froze, turning to watch. The Lieutenant had finally arrived, with some of his guardsbeasts coming up a bit behind him, but he was...different. Not the composed, calm under battle, firm but easygoing commander he had grown to know. No, he was like something out of those books of dark magic sold in certain areas of the Slups, or the tales whispered by some of bloodraging Badgers on the Mahsterious Sathern Continent. Even he shivered as he watched the brutal takedown of the group.
The two in front of him stopped, looked at Alwyn who was now spitting out the fur and blood of their comrade from his mouth, then at him, and then the arriving Guard reinforcements. Carefully holding out their weapons, they dropped them to the ground.
“We...we...surrender…”
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@Asta Dalgaard @FinnianBrightfur @Cricket @Jeshal the Ironclaw @Minerva @Dusk Rainblade
