There's a delightful mix of adrenaline, horror, and what Einheria is fairly certain might be tipsiness coursing through her veins.

On one hand, she's lived a dream, stepped into the shoes of some wicked, powerful fairy-tale mimicry of her lineage, all flame-breath and hissing, confidence and cruelty; on the other hand, she's quite brutally immolated a man without thinking twice about it in the moment. She's certainly thinking about it now, of course, but the guilt and panic over the direness of her actions is muted beneath the dawn of a pleasant, warm buzz beginning to settle over her nerves, clouds seeping into the spaces between her brain and refusing to let any of that unease fester too deeply.

Whatever had been in that sweet, cold little drink Shaa had given her, it's starting to kick in, and oh, Einheria is walking on frost-kissed, moonlit clouds of guiltless bliss.

A rather inelegant, downright inappropriate giggle erupts from her lips as she watches Shaa beat a man over the head with a chair, amusement lighting up her whole face. It's not that funny-- it really isn't, a man is hurt, they've caused all kinds of chaos-- but oh, his expression when it cracks against his skull-- pfft--

Oh, she's going to need to examine this behavior when sobriety settles in.

"As you wish, Sir Shaa~!" she answers with a bit too much glee as she's given her orders, already moving to start filling the cart with boxes, but she can't help but eye the strange top in her hands with curiosity. She shouldn't test it out yet, as much as she wants to-- not until she needs to. "If... If you need help with the mage, just let me know and I'll... I'll freeze 'im."

She giggles again, light and sonorous and perhaps a little too delighted, and goes right back to tossing the boxes in.

Just keep packing, I’ve got him! Breathing deep and heavy from the rush of battle, Shaa hurries up the nearby rickety staircase to chase after the fleeing mage. Taking large steps, he is able to quickly close the gap between him and the pyromancer. Before Shaa can reach him, the mage makes it into some sort of office, slamming the door roughly behind him. Shaa rushes right at the door, plowing through it as if it were wet paper.

In a panic, the mage tries to breathe flames on Him. With his resistance in play, Shaa ignores the attack and grabs the mage’s face. Face in hand, the mage screams muffled cries as his head is repeatedly slammed into the top of a nearby desk. The mages head makes deep thumping noises like trying to crack a coconut on a rock. After Shaa is sure he is out, he rips off the mages robe, tearing it into long strips which Shaa uses to hog tie the magic user. Finally, he takes the mages socks and wads them up roughly into the pyromancer’s mouth. Let’s see you try to spell your way out of that one.

Dusting his hands together, Shaa makes his way back into the hall and down the staircase on the far side of the warehouse. Making his way back to Snowy through a maze of large crates, he hears an eerie groan. Uuunnngghh… Shaa looked around, not seeing anyone at first. Hello? He asked carefully. Uuunnnghh.. The sound was unintelligible but getting closer. Shaa turned a corner of crates, right into a hoard of zombie carolers. She was horrified at the sight of normally jolly people, with fancy coats and holiday trimming, instead carry blank expressions with flesh hanging precariously from bone. One of them even looked like it was trying to sing.

Ohhh man! That is not right! Shaa looks around for the culprit of such a gruesome scene. He had never really been a big fan of Necromancers. There was something wrong about ripping off an arm and your opponent not even caring. I know you are in here somewhere! The zombies continued their slow march towards the Minotaur.

Meanwhile, back at the cart, the three mercenaries trapped in a room were discussing their options.

Well Collins, this is a real s*** show this is.

Don’t look at me sir. Collins protested. Simmons was the one who supposedly cleared the grounds. You should go yell at him.

If Simmons was around to yell at, he would be out there, busting down the door. From the sounds earlier, I don’t think there is anyone left. We need to get out of this ourselves.

Oh great, we are all dead. Complained Fasha, the group’s engineer. 

You are the tool guy. What, you can’t figure out a door?

Not sure you noticed but our door handle is no longer attached to said door. Fasha waves the broken door handle in the air. 

It’s been a minute, hang on. The captain of the mercenaries concentrates. His hands are soon covered in small rocks that solidify around his knuckles. With swift strikes, he starts punching holes into the top of the door. The bottom of the door still solidly braced by the crate Shaa had left earlier. When the hole was big enough, the captains men boost him through the door to the top of the crate. He looks over and sees a woman loading boxes into the cart. His two men, lying motionless and bloody on the floor.

---

Way of the Iron Fist- captain
Juggernaut -Shaa
flame breath - mage

"As you say, Sir Shaa~!"

As her companion runs off to hunt down the mage, Einheria resumes her task of loading more and more crates into the cart, humming some sweet, idle little tune below her breath, clear and gentle as a wind chime, so soft and dissonant against the backdrop of violence laid out behind her. She's elected to ignore it, by now; there's a pleasant fuzz dancing around her brain, comforting and warm in the way it dulls the sharp edges of her usual panic, making her assigned task a little easier, a little less frantic, albeit... perhaps a bit more sluggish. Her usual refined grace has slipped a bit, but only just so.

She's so caught up in her work that she almost doesn't notice the thunderous pounding of stone against wood, the crack of the door yielding to the attacks of the mercenaries trapped behind it. In fact, it isn't until the captain is within her sight that she notices him looking in her direction, and she lets out a tiny gasp.

"Oh, my," Einheria says softly, looking the mercenary captain up and down. She pauses, opting to gently set the crate in her arms into the cart before lifting her arm up, summoning her glaive, moon-pale and translucent, in a burst of snowflakes and frost, a lazy grin splitting her expression as she looks the mercenary over. "Do you wish for a sparring match, good sir? I would be all too delighted to deliver."

With a flourish of her cape and a twirl of her glaive before she seizes it in both hands, she adopts an offensive stance, ready to attack should the mercenary wish to leap over and battle, drunkenness be damned.

Shaa slowly pushes and rotates crates in front of him to stay one step ahead of the zombie hoard while, at the same time, making a systematic search for their master. Shambling through the snow. Looking for some brains. All the time we moan. Never feeling pain. Flesh rotting away. Making children cry. Oh what fun it is to chase people through the night. Oh zombie hoard, zombie hoard. Crashing through the night. Zombie hoard zombie hoard, making spirits bright. Zomb…. The zombies were apparently not fans of Shaa’s singing as they struggled to grab him over the crates. Shaa shoved the barrier roughly to keep them backed up. This was taking too long, he needed to get back and help get the boxes packed. Then he got an idea.

Running towards a large empty crate, Shaa flips it over so the open side is perpendicular to the floor. As the zombies push past the barrier crate, he waits for them to get closer. Closer and closer they shamble towards him and the empty crate. That’s right. Keep coming, keep coming…..  They are almost on him when Shaa shoves the large crate, the open side facing towards them. Like a giant wooden scoop, Shaa slides the hoard roughly into the crate, sliding it around until he collects every one. When he finishes, he flips the crate back upright, trapping the zombies inside. The zombies in the crate moan in frustration.

Ohh somebody’s not going to be happy with this delivery. He says to himself smugly. Shaa turns to the darkness. I’ve got your toys, whatta gonna do about it? Hunh? Shaa kicks a shelf, annoyed the necromancer had not shown himself. There was no way he was waiting around. Shaa pushed the zombie box towards the entrance.

Back at the cart, the three mercenaries had finally freed themselves from the room. They were now facing down Snowy who was preparing, if not a little precariously, for battle.

It’s three against one girly. You don’t have a snowballs chance. Give up now and we’ll just take you to jail…if you come quietly.
The three mercenaries did not really think she would come quietly and prepared for a fight. Collins looked around nervously for the Minotaur that had trapped them in the room. They had to get this under control now. Collins pulls a long sword and twirls it in his hand. Collins runs at Snowy full speed, swiping the blade at her left side. The engineer is starting to chant something.

It isn't uncommon, in those fairy tales she adores so deeply, for there to be uneven match-ups like this.

The scene is set with dire stakes: there is only so much time for the hero to come to the rescue of their beloved, and myriad obstacles stand in their way, whether they be monsters or man. A spiraling tower unfurls around them, or a crumbling, immolated castle-- some dramatic stage with uneven, dangerous turf, designed to place the hero at a disadvantage, all intended to ensure the situation looks utterly hopeless for them. The point of the moment is always to watch ascendance from the cusp of rock-bottom.

There is no flaming castle, no tower, merely the warehouse around them and a small swarm of mercenaries, but if Einheria closes her eyes, for a moment, she is some armored knight charging a tower, halberd in hand-- she is a warrior, proud and true, and not some drunken little dragon playing vigilante.

If she pretends, it comes naturally.

"A snowball's chance where?" she says, whipping her head around to the first mercenary. "In hell, in heaven-- you should think to complete your sentences, Sir Mercenary~! For I am no mere snowball, I am a rush of permafrost~!"

Another tipsy giggle spills from her lips as she whirls into combat with all the otherworldly grace of a snowflake, grabbing the edge of her cape as soon as Collins dives at her, lifting it up to block the blow, the thin veil hardening like ice as soon as it moves. [1] With the now-solid garment serving as her bodily shield, she dives in with her translucent glaive, aiming the crescent blade for the mercenary's side, intending to disarm-- not to kill.

"Sir Shaa!" she calls out, all the same, wondering if her companion can hear her. "Have you dealt with the mages, wherever you have gone?"

---

[1] Rime Mantle

With the caroling zombies in the crate, Shaa was nearly back to the thoroughly smashed door. Still no sign of the necromancer however. As Shaa got close, he heard a call. "Sir Shaa! Have you dealt with the mages, wherever you have gone?" Doah! Stupid necromancer.

As he rounds the corner, large crate in hand, he sees the full scene laid out in front of him. The three mercenaries that he had barricaded into the room had somehow got out! He could have sworn he would have had more time had these brain munchers not delayed him. Two of them were hanging back while a third was trying to slash at Snowy. Not on Shaa’s watch was that happening.

Very sorry my lady. I had to pick up some gifts for our fine hosts. It’s the least we can do after such a large and generous donation of goods. Shaa turns to the mercenaries in the back. Please forgive me, I had no time to wrap them. With a full spin and sudden stop, Shaa whips the large crate around, sending the zombie carolers right on top of the mercenaries. Agghh! Adghhh! Stupid Necromancers! Get them off me, get them off! Apparently the zombies were not all that picky as they attempted to brain slurp the panicking mercenaries. Don’t panic guys, that will just make them frenzy.

Collins, seeing his captain under an attack from the jolly undead, pulls back to assist his comrades. Shaa smashes his hands together, causing the ground to upheave around Collins feet, sticking him in place. Unable to maneuver, the zombies take advantage and swarm, pulling Collins apart as he yells for help.

With the mercs distracted, and digested, Shaa grabs the final load of boxes, tosses them in the cart, and checks on Snowy. I hope you are not injured. I believe we have worn out our welcome. Leave them a tip (pointing to the magical top) and we will be on our way.

As Shaa turned the cart and was ready to go, a voice came back from the top of the balcony. And just where so you think you are going? They looked up to see a man in black robes with some sort of animal skull on his head. Geee. I wonder who this could be. Said Shaa with a heavy layer of sarcasm.

---

Earth Bind
Bull Strength Tatoo

Although she's quite capable with a weapon on her own, delight quickly writes itself across Einheria's face as soon as Shaa makes his reappearance, making fine use of his unparalleled strength to effortlessly toss a massive crate in the direction of the mercenaries who've elected to linger back, unleashing... the... undead? She blinks, wondering if this is all just a side effect of that cocktail Shaa had pressed into her hands earlier. It takes a moment of processing, but yes, that is indeed a set of shambling zombies diving out from the crate's containment, lunging for the mercenaries with gnashing teeth and bared, rotting claws.

...that is... a new one. She cannot say she's ever read a storybook quite like this, but no matter.

As the mercenary who'd charged at her withdraws to rush to his allies' rescue, Einheria is quick to skip back to Shaa's side, a broad smile on her face as she dips into another curtsy, albeit a clumsier one, touched by the haziness of alcohol and instability. Even so, she hardly minds, dispelling her glaive with a quick snap of her fingers and a burst of snowflakes.

"I am quite well, Sir Shaa," she chirps, her smile as bright as ever. "Worry not, I will leave them a gift to remember~! Ehehe!"

She lifts the top from Shaa's gift bag up, pursing her lips as she contemplates her aim, tossing it with only slight imprecision toward the group of dispatched mercenaries, giggling once more to herself as the trap springs to life. She's eager to get going, giddy with the high of success, of glorious combat and the buzz of alcohol, when that voice sounds, echo clear even through the chaos of the warehouse.

"Oh, my," she says quietly, staring up at the strange figure. "Sir Shaa, should we... prepare for more combat?"

Shaa looked up at the necromancer and rubbed his chin, considering the question. Well, I suppose we could fight him….but..we are running a bit behind..l tell you what. Let’s just give him something better to do… Shaa opened up a recent present that he was given. A pair of enchanted gauntlets with flames painted on the side. Shaa slipped on the light gauntlets and slapped them together. As he did, the gauntlets burst into flame. With a smile on his face, Shaa rushes around lighting crate after crate on fire.

With the warehouse ablaze and zombie carolers running rampant, Shaa helps Snowy into the cart and waves to the Necromancer. Have fun! Shaa grabs the cart handles, after putting out the gauntlets, and rushes deep into the right, laughing all the way. Shaa heads down several dark alleyways and heads for the meat up. Well, that was fun. We just need to get these things packed away and we are good! As Shaa and Snowy ran through the night, the shadowy figure from the square watched the scene with interest.

So you think you have gotten away Red Rogue. I see you. Ohhh I see you. And before this night is over, I will put an end to all of your non sense…l.l


END