Nostrum: Tales of Valor

Fractured

Raising his ax, which had been used to soften the door, Cronn grits his teeth and charges towards Belial, who appears to be shocked by the arrival of a dead man. Swiftly pulling a portion of the fungus that nearly cost him his hand from his pocket, Belial slips it into his mouth and swallows, moments before Cronn's ax will surely strike. Those in the great hall, who cannot see the events that continue to unfold within Achlys' chamber, hear only the ghastly shriek of a beast, unlike any others they have come across. Bellowing howls that follow rattle what windows The Keep has and fill the corridors, alerting more Nostrum to an unexpected attack. With more Purebloods filing in, the wall which separates them all from Achlys, Belial, and Cronn, bursts outwards, showering those who occupy the great hall with chunks of chiseled stone and dust. Several are injured by the sudden impacts, while others retreat to a safe distance; Awaiting the appearance of what could possibly cause so much damage with such ease. A violent howl emits from the forming cloud, followed by Cronn, who rolls out on his back before slamming against the legs of a bench and losing what grip remains on his ax.

"Get him out of there!" A member of the crowd commands, motioning towards Cronn.

"Brace yourselves!" Shouts another, who spots a beastly claw emerge moments before it slashes at more loose stone overhead. As the crumbling boulders fall to the ground, becoming indistinguishable from the rest, two Nostrum tend to Cronn. Having pulled him away from the chaos that continues to unfold.

"Protect the Convener!"

"Lay waste to that thing!"

A barrage of arrows and bullets, joined by the cries of war, soar through the air; Targeting the head of the beast, so as to avoid any risks towards the uncertain life belonging to Achlys. Grunts and wails tell them of successful contact being made, but it doesn't last. The Great Beast sweeps an open palm, breaching the threshold and tossing several Nostrum aside as its claws create sparks against the foundation, leaving behind deep carvings. As blood slaps against the faces of those who are left, an understanding of the inevitable washes over them. Yet, they do not attempt to flee. All that they have ever known is at risk. Their faith, their idolized figures, and their home is in the clutches of a monstrosity that seeks only violence. With this, many charge into the destruction ahead. Not caring if they die in their blind efforts to save what they can.

Watching a rallied cluster of ten or so Nostrum rush forward, shouting at the top of their lungs, Cronn attempts to stand but winces in pain. As the men and women disappear out of sight, he collects his ax and finds that he is being held down by two others.

"No, no, no. Stay here. You need to recover before you get back to the action." The one on the left pushes him down by the shoulder, whilst the other administers medical aid to a freshly formed wound across the small of his back. Feeling the familiar burning sensation of alcohol, he snatches the Nostrum that spoke to him by the collar of his shirt, pulling him in close.

"Leave me! Do not waste resources on the injured! Fight!"

The man, having surrendered his full attention at this point, gives a hard nod and leaps to his feet, sprinting to the front of the line with a hand-fashioned, bladed chain whip.

"You," He begins, looking towards the other now, "do the same. Give me a vial and move on. We need as much attention on the beast as we can muster!"

Doing as the first did, but more hesitantly, they too rush off towards the battle, one vial lighter. Cronn pulls himself up whilst applying pressure to his injury and sits at a bench, where he can cover himself from any incoming projectiles and sip at the vial. In doing so, he naturally tips his head upwards, where he spots someone traveling along a set of rafters. Squinting out of curiosity and concern, he assumes- based on what little he knows- who it is.