7820/Summon Monster Works Both Ways

Summon Monster Works Both Ways
Date of Scene:	14 September 2021
Location:	Whiterock Promontory, Several Realities Over
Synopsis:	When Bazcor the Sorcerer attempts to steal the Seed of Life, the young mage Larissa summons three Champions from across the realms to help defend it. Thus, Brunnhilde, Magik, and Lara Croft find themselves in all but through the Wardrobe and up a creek without a clue... Not that it stops them from saving the day.
Cast of Characters:	Amanda Sefton, Lara Croft, Illyana Rasputina, Brunnhilde

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Amanda Sefton has posed:
Another realm. Several realities over.

Dusk falls, fiery orange skies blazing over Whiterock Promontory. Where the limestone cliffs give way to tumbles of rock, a string of sea stacks -- known as the Lost Towers -- rise out of the brine. They're tall and broad, the arches that once connected them now little more that a series of boulders blocking easy passage around the tip of the jutting peninsula.

Two small navies gather beyond the broken rocks of the shoreline. Two small armies gather on the lip of the promontory. Beyond both are the Steps of the Towers -- a forbidding series of bridges and leaps required to ascend to the highest of the Lost Towers, where even now the nexus of an unnatural storm cycles overhead, sending lighting lashing out across the pale cliffs. This land is ancient. Its origins are lost to the mists of time.

In lines near the treeline, on the inland side of the armoured lines, soldiers in leather and gleaming steel stand, restless, ready, and perhaps just a little apprehensive. Their black eyes dart and whiskered snouts quiver as they scent their enemies on the air and the acrid smoke from burning ships offshore. They range in size and form from oversized mice to foxes half the height of a grown man. Roosted in the trees, feathered troops await the sounding of the battle horn.

Nearer to the Towers, arrayed in dark enameled plate and laquered leather, viscious rows of scaled and clawed raiders block the road to the Steps. They range in size and form from bulky rats and lizards to upright wolves nearly the height of a small human woman.

On the sea, the bright pennons identify the proud schooners and galleons manned by stalwart otters, their guns set against the sleek junks and square brigantines manned by amphibious reptiles of various sorts.

"How are we going to get past them, Rex?" The young mouse rubs his whiskers, looking up at the sharp eyed fox that commands the forest folk.

"Leave it to Larissa," Rex replies, scritching the youngster behind the ears. "If anyone knows how to pull magic out of a hat, it's that rabbit."

"I sure hope so..."

                             --------------------                              

This realm. A normal Wednesday night.

Most of the world is going about its own business. But, for a select few... the unexpected occurs. Somehow, someway... they find themselves transported across time and space until the stand in the midst of a furry army of upright animals on the very eve of battle...

Cue Bonnie Tyler... Or maybe somebody's Fairy Godmother.

https://youtu.be/dLHCS6oL7lo

Lara Croft has posed:
Lara is based in New York City, but that's not where she was when this started to go down. No, in fact, she was across the globe in the far reaches of a Siberian village that was undersiege by enemies looking to raze the village and burn its structures to the ground. She was in the midsts of the fight that was ongoing, and in the process of running from one side of the village to reinforce another side. Dressed in blacks and greys, Lara has a tacticle vest on over her torso, a black beanie on her head holding her hair up and various weapon attachments all stuffed away inside of holsters and ties to her belt cinched around her waist.

In her half-gloved hands, Lara holds an automatic rifle that she's hoisting up and about to aim and fire with as she drops to one knee...

Only to stop....

She'd been teleported..?

"What the hell..." Lara utters as she lowers the rifle down and her brown eyes sweep around the horizon to take in the new setting. She remains crouched on one knee, the pad covering it impacting upon the ground far different from where she'd been. She moves to stand up, doing a full turn around to look about, rifle held pointed down at her side now...

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
They must be bloody desperate if they are pulling a blonde Russian out of a hat. Furry animals going to war surely need a champion, but what caliber of champion? It must be the otters. Otters are batty at the best of times, batsh*t with every other breath. Surely they were behind this mischief.

But with the right rune or sigil, a /lot/ of luck or Agamotto's database answering Larissa, it is possible.

She is not a small or skinny thing, but Illyana Rasputina expects to be the mistress of her own domain. A circle of notes and papers comes flying in with her, a fluttering mystic circle of flashcards for her arcane and academic career whirling around her. Lacquered armour? Those black pants and boots probably look so. Deadly intent?

Believe it. "Bozhe-moi," she hisses under her breath, throwing an arm out to float. Looking for a mage? There she is! <<What in the ninth circle of the Stygian Towers?>>

Lara at a distance is familiar. She flashes her hand in a signal from somewhat afar. How any of this works doesn't matter, she manifests a sword -- not the fabled one -- and turns. "What is going on?"

Who gets stabbed first?

Brunnhilde has posed:
Brunnhilde had been in a bar. Attempting to get drunk. Because getting drunk is hard work for a Valkyrie. And takes a lot of //imbibing.//

So it's off to the loo for a little relief. But the door, when she opens it, doesn't lead to a toilet. It leads to a forest. Brunnhilde blinks. She looks back towards the bar. It's still there.

But the strange portal begins to exert a strong gravitational force, pulling her in. "Bloody Hel," the Aesgardian swears as she's dumped unceremoniously into the dirt.

Amanda Sefton has posed:
"Champions!" Larissa is a sleek, brown and grey rabbit with a pink nose and white tail. She is garbed in simple robes, but surrounded by crystals -- some of which zip around her head in a quick orbit. A large tome floats in the air before her, and the head of the staff in her hand shines with a brilliant light. "Oh, thank Frith!"

Around her, animals stir, their eyes wide and awed as they look up at the tall, smooth-skinned women that arrive. The fox, Rex, pushes through them. "You did it!" He beams with pride at the furry female. "We need your help," he tells the newly summoned heroes. His black furred hand rises, pointing toward the arrayed army between his band and the sea stacks beyond. "The black wizard Bazcor is trying to break through the magic sigils that protect the Seed of Life in the center of the Lost Tower. We can stop his army, but there's no way we can stop him without help. Please. If we fail... this whole world will die."

Help them, Obi-Wan Kenobies. You're their only hope.

The black army blocking the way begins to chant, beating their shields and sending up sparks with their weapons in a show of strength and force. There's the blat of an ugly horn and, before any answer can be made to the noble fox and his companions, the dark beasts charge the forest lines.

Lara Croft has posed:
lara first sees Illyana which is a relief to get someone she recognizes at the very least. Her gaze then takes in the form of Brumhilde as she is thrust through the portal from what looked like a bar. She doesn't recognize her though... she'd know who she was if introduced though!

Then the pink nosed wizard.... rabbit... draws Lara's attention.

She listens to the wizardly rabbit's rather sucinct rundown of the situation, and all she has time to say is "Wait, what--" before the sound of the charging army can be heard.

This, has Lara quickly shifting on her combat booted feet. She looks to the charging line of enemies and her eyebrows raise up toward the strands of hair poking out from under her black cap. "Oh my god..." The Briton mutters as she shifts her weight from foot to foot.

A glance is given to the tower spoken of before her eyes go back to those charging. She raises her rifle up and prepares to fire!

Brunnhilde has posed:
"I'm not drunk enough to be seeing things," Brunnhilde says to the aether. And she still doesn't have her thrice damned sword. She groans. It can't be any worse than the death gods hand been though. Her skin still itches from Erlik's poisons.

She holds out her hand to her strange allies -- or captors. Depends on how she chooses to look at it. But their response to her demand will tell her all she needs to know. "Give me a weapon," she says.

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
"We what?" Frith? That's not Illyana or anyone she knows personally, which rarely gives a good outcome. Her free hand shoves back her bangs, and she starts to approach the lapine woman with great caution. "We have no time. You stay back and we fight, da? What are they weak to?"

Silver erupts from her shoulder, rolling down in a rippling wave to armour her. The sword she summoned she tosses at Brunnhilde. "It is enchanted. Avoid fire," is a warning dark in its amusement. The Valkyrie gets the little one.

The Soulsword comes out next as the woman is already running.

Amanda Sefton has posed:
Rex takes a pike from a nearby badger and tosses it to Brunnhilde. "We'll try to clear you a path!" he calls, pulling a pair of long knives from sheathes across his back. "For Swordsreach!" Then, he's charging forward into the fray, bounding ahead to lead his people from the front. No coward he.

"FOR SWORDSREACH!" the multitude of furry soldiers around them roar in response to the fox's warcry. They surge forward. There's a mighty clash of armor and blades, a hail of arrows from the treeline, arching deep into the back lines of the charging foe.

"Sharp pointy things?" Larissa squeaks in response to Magik. "Bazcor has the Eye of Thorak about his neck. Destroy it and you will destroy his power!" Then, however, the band of forest folk is surging around her and she starts chanting protective spells to ward them against enemy weapons and what harm she can. If she's got any offensive powers, she hasn't shown them yet.

The fray quickly becomes a swirling maelstrom of furred and scaled bodies, confused by the swooping and clashing of feathered and leather-winged fliers. Blades, arrows, and bullets alike are all too effective on both sides. So, as it turns out, are teeth and claws. A disarmed animal is never truly disarmed.

Lara Croft has posed:
With her gun held up, Lara gives one more look over to Illyana to see her arming the Valkyrie along with one of the army soldiers doing the same. Lara raises a brow at this in a questioning sort of way like 'are we really doing this?' but it would seem the answer is yes...

Do they even have a choice?

So with the enemies engaging the 'good guys' Lara hangs back a step before she looks back down her Russian rifle sights and squeezes the trigger. What comes next are unusual sounds for this battlefield no doubt as Lara's automatic rifle starts to open fire! She gets several shots off before a barage of enemy arrows catches her eyes and cause her to spin back and rush behind cover!

Once they've passed, stabbing in to the ground and trees, Lara sweeps back out on the other side and begins to pepper fire the enemies that are attacking the soldiers on 'their side' as she tries to provide them with cover fire and support!

When she pauses again, she reaches for her belt with her right gloved hand, and unclips an explosive that she pops the clip on and throws as hard as she can toward the back of the enemy lines pushing toward them!

Brunnhilde has posed:
The Valkyrie catches both the pike and the sword. Two weapons, even better. She grins.

Surging to the front to join Magik, Brunnhilde becomes a blur of offensive strikes. The pike must be abandoned, stuck as it is between the ribs of an upright wolf. But the sword gleams a dull red, as blood pours forth from the many injuries it inflicts.

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
For Swordsreach? That's a good name, and Illyana might be tempted to shout it. Better for her to use the Soulsword at full reach, the blade wickedly long and sharp at the edges.

Explosive movement hits percussive notes against the symphonic rhapsody of combat. She laughs as she goes, the glowing blade wreathed in magic and practically singing. Harmonizing in her own lyrical abandon, she uses brutal efficiency to lop through protective spells and girded armour. Crossing blades with the Soulsword is a fine way to get just a rapier or short sword or miniature bastard sword, none of the spellcraft that was on it. The flames consume.

Oddly enough, the furry and scaled bodies don't bleed where she passes. They certainly will feel pain as the blade passes through them, but the killing edges are reserved for magic or demons by the blonde.

Never say Illyana isn't thoughtful.

The Valkyrie's defensive measures are thrilling to watch. There is a beauty in what she does. The song continues.

Amanda Sefton has posed:
The thing about battles like these is that they're never as long as they seem -- not that this one shows any signs of slowing down anytime soon. There are cries of pain from everywhich creature on both sides of the conflict. There are roars and grunts and chittering squeals. Blades clash against shields and other blades. Bodies crash into one another. Many find themselves without the strength and weapons they expected to have, thanks to the magic at play... both Larissa's and Illyana's, as it turns out.

Lara's bullets are something the scalies don't know how to combat. Their shields don't help. Then, however, pairs of black robed creatures begin appearing out of shadow and smoke. Eldritch energy, angry red, snakes through the fray, creating a mystical barrier between their forces and the strange projectiles the smooth-skinned female spits at them. Some of those bullets ricochet into the furry throng, sending stalwart warriors tumbling into the earth.

The closer the Champions move to the 'Steps of the Towers', however, the more resistence they encounter of a somewhat unexpected kind. It's like walking into a swamp. A thick, close, creeping energy surrounds their bodies and makes moving forward -- even wanting to move forward -- exceptionally difficult. An act of sheer bloody minded will.

The storm above the tallest spire out in the water grows thicker, the lightning striking the rocks more fiercely and more often.

Lara Croft has posed:
For Lara, it becomes quickly obvious that she needs to stay in the wake of Brumhilde and Illyana both, as best as she can anyway. She charges after them with her boots slapping down against the moistened soil of the battlefield unfolding all around them...

She'd been in a battle before coming to this place, it at least left her well armed and equipped for this one... which may be a reason as to why she was chosen to come here at all in the first place.

She ejects the spent ammunition and pops in another pulled from the pouch on her belt that had been given to her an hour ago by a friend whose not even anywhere near her now. She opesn fire again as she tries to stay close to the Valkyrie and Demon Queen, her rifle echoes around the battle and is only cut off as she has to avoid the wrath of an enemy that gets too close, dodging out of the way of its claws before she pulls a knife from the back of her belt and throws it with care-abandoned for its life. The knife buries in to the back of it its head and Lara spins around to raise her weapon up to fire again!

Only now her bullets are bouncing off of mystical barriers. "What the--" Lara says as she lowers her rifle and lets it hang from her shoulder by her strap. She raises up one of her ice axes and draws out a handgun from her holster on her thigh....

All while trying to keep up with the very powerful warrior women before her! There's magic at play all over this area, Lara considers to herself as she looks up to the storm in the sky...

Brunnhilde has posed:
Brunnhilde swears, "By Thor's singed whiskers!" as she eyes the storm. She pushes against the resistance, wishing fervently that she could slice through the magic as easily as she cuts through flesh and bone. "Bloody magic, bloody molasses..."

Still she advances toward the tower.

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
The violent clash begs to be answered in kind. Illyana whirls and dances in song, for whatever reason that justifiably has, the thrill of battle viewed by a winter-white tempest. She turns and whirls with glorious ease, though wading through their furry friends puts her at a disadvantage.

Eventually she reaches the beautiful sea stacks, elegant spires dancing above the churning water that beckon in the distance. That pressure may not be quite so difficult for some to deal with, but her very nature is threaded by her code name and dealing with that friction causes her to bare her teeth.

"This is not efficient!" Russian-accented English cuts through the distnace. "We need another path." Paths may be her specialty, and better yet, they aren't magical at all.

"What do you see?" She calls to Lara, since the explorer has unusual acumen. Her fingers flicker, drawing a circle to see if a portal is even a possibility. Not one of magic, naturally. One that's tied to the realm threaded through her bones. Maybe it works!

Amanda Sefton has posed:
A magical portal will certainly not cut through the dead zone Bazcor has errected around his work. But the passage between realms Illyana lives and breathes? That's a whole other kettle of fish.

In the distance, the farthest spire can be seen to be ringed with what at first seem to broken blocks of stone. But the way the lighting flashes, the way the shadows play over their hides, it quickly becomes evident they are instead some sort of grey stone golems... or maybe gargoyles. They stand guard over the tower.

Or, at least, they should be. On Earth, gargoyles are supposed to ward off evil, not invite it in for tea. How, then, is Bazcor able to work within their watchful circle.

Perhaps the key is in the black runes scrawled across their hides -- unnatural, twisted things.

Not all grafitti is benign visual pollution, it seems.

Lara Croft has posed:
A wolfen enemy lunges at Lara from behind and her alert senses let her catch on a moment enough to step out of the way before it collides with her shoulder and makes her topple to one knee. The creature turns around to snarl at her, only to get two *pops* to the face fro her handgun!

Hearing Illyana's question, Lara once more looks to the tower constructs, her eyes focusing on the gargoyle-like statues adorning them. "We need to get up there, or at least find out what those monolithic beasts are guarding!" Lara calls back over the chaos as she rises back up to her feet and fires another pair of shots at a beast moving toward the Valkyrie's back!

Brunnhilde has posed:
"Any ideas?" the Valkyrie calls out to her companions. If they don't have any clever ideas, then she'll just charge through the slowness and hack her way to the top. She'd prefer a clever idea though. The magic swirling around her itches under her skin. Her blood burns. She gasps in pain. But still she continues on.

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
The dead zone itself still hurts in a tangible way. Illyana fights against some innate sense of wrongness, the very lack of magic there like a needle jammed into her brain. Migraines may be uncommon for the Demon Queen, but this infusion of pain absolutely stings in its way.

Fire rings the portal that she holds open, a chance for the others to go through or descend on their distant but charming destination. Nothing like a ring of devious, wicked golems dancing on the sea.

"Go," she hisses, sibilant and dangerous, biting back the words. Lara's enemies would have her spinning to fight with the sword, but the woman's deliciously competent with a gun as she is with a rope or a tome. No reason to insult her by suggesting she needs a rescue. "I see shapes on the other side. Not human, da?"

The storm lashes her in swirls, knocking her this way and that. Life would be so much easier if she were her very large, very strong brother. He probably laughs at lightning. She, on the other hand, is forced to wade through tooth by claw.

Amanda Sefton has posed:
The portal Illyana cuts through one plane and into the other deposits the trio of Champions at the edge of the tallest tower spire -- a flat plateau of rock several meters wide and several hundred meters above the churning sea. Here, in this place, it is easier to see what's going on.

Bazcor, who looks like a wild boar stood on its hind legs and draped in way too much black silk and brocade for any swine (especially in this salt laden air), is all but oblivious to their arrival. He stands at the point of a pentagram, an ecstatic look on his tusked face, his beady little eyes glowing crimson. Light cuts through the mist, rising up from the lines of the circle and star he's drawn on the white rock in black coal -- if it can actually be called light. More like it's rising ripple of heat, darkness given shape and shine.

The three golem, gargoyle things, however, turn towards the intruders. Someone skilled in languages -- quite probably any one of the three women, really -- might even discern that the runes are a corruption of the word 'life' in several different languages... Hebrew, Summarian, Old Norse, even Latin. Chances are very good the sorcerer has done this to these creatures, rather than it being in their base nature to attack those that would also defend the treasure they protect.

In the center of Bazcor's circle, however, is a genuine point of light about the size of a football. It is slowly becoming brighter, like something is moving closer up the column of rock beneath their feet.

Lara Croft has posed:
Lara's gaze goes from Brumhilde to Illyana-- to whom she sees opening the portal. Lara backs up toward it, using her handgun to fire on another creature targeting them! A second comes in from the side only to get the sharp end of Lara's axe delivered down on to its head, followed by a bullet to put it down for good. Mercy shot...

Lara rips the axe back up out of the beast, sending brain matter around in a disgusting display, before she turns and makes her way through the offered portal to the tower's peak. With gun and axe at her sides, Lara jogs across the flat surface of the tower and scans her eyes this way and that... taking it all in.

"This... is.... madness. Whomever is behind this is manipulating the natural world to create an army?" She looks back to the others before looking to the light ascending toward them. "We... should probably stop whatever that is before it gets here..." She notes as she continues to scan the different languages jumbled together looking for more possible answers or ways to counter the magic being used here, to reverse it maybe...

Brunnhilde has posed:
Time to go! Brunnhilde tumbles through the portal. The words on the gargoyles practically scream in front of her eyes. Using her borrowed blade, the Valkyrie cuts a swath of silk from Bazcor's ridiculous outfit.

Rag in hand, she rushes the gargoyles. Dodging stone wings and claws, she scrubs at the runes. If she can break the boar's spell, maybe these guardians will start doing their job properly.

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
A swine in a silk outfit? He must've made it from his ear. Illyana's opinions on the matter are thoroughly squashed behind her teeth clenched shut, since it will never help to add an air of humour. Thick air rolls around her, the salt-tang wind bloing sharply, and there is something beautiful and wild in where they stand. She steps forth through the portal last, letting the others go ahead.

Bazcor's excitement proves truly, utterly unacceptable given the circumstances of the furry and fuzzy animal-people fighting for their lives. She glances at the blade in her hand, then to the golems crafted for purposes no doubt as nefarious as a pig-headed caster like their opponent would be. Those hideous runes scribed on the bodies of the golems is likewise offensive, their purpose clearly undermined. "Whatever offends the natural order," she murmurs, "uses their powers badly, da?" No hard feelings there, piggy, really. Brunnhilde leads the fray, and she is most certainly prepared to leap into action... by circling around Bazcor.

He wants to play with a summoning circle? Isn't he cute. The Soulsword she intends to strike at the pentagram if she can, trusting in its ability to eat through enchantments. And if not, this will be fun!

Amanda Sefton has posed:
If the pig were concentrating less on his circle and what is likely the Seed of Life rising from within the Tower, he'd probably have more to say about this intrusion. But he trusts the magic he's worked on the gargoyle guardians -- for all that it's little more than an etching with the same charcoal stick he used to draw the circle itself. No matter that the charcoal came from an unholy fire... it's still nothing more than compacted soot.

All of which means... erasing the marks on the hides of the gargoyles actually does have some sort of effect. Instead of trying to attack the trio of Champions, the creature Brunnhilde frees now turns toward the sorcerer, intent on attacking him, instead.

That, of course, turns out to be a little distracting for the poor swine. He squeals in surprise as the creature breaches the circle.

Not, mind, that it could have done so easily without the Soulsword's unique siphoning ability. The dark magic the sorcerer wields has a secondhand feel to it. Like he's borrowing it from somewhere else.

That might, of course, make sense... given Larissa said his power comes from the Eye of Thorak -- very likely the heavy pewter disk laying against his breast.

Lara Croft has posed:
Lara's handgun is slipped back in to its holster on her thigh as she watches the Valkyrie rush past her. The Pig Man is observed with a furrowed brow from Croft before her eyes note the runes and the pentagram that Illyana is assaulting.

Being a member of WAND has exposed Lara to a lot of the magical world, and though she's no sorcerer herself, she has learned a lot, especially how magic 'feels' and she can 'feel' that borrowed sense in the air, or at least that's what she thinks she's sensing. She moves to raise her rifle up again to take hold of it once more.

"Illyana! Valkyrie!" Lara shouts. "Aim for that!" She says then as she targets that 'piece' that the Caster is wearing, the presumed source of magic... and lets her rifle ring off 3 quick rounds that fire right at it!

Brunnhilde has posed:
Brunnhilde circles the sorcerer pig, ready to drive the pendant through his chest with the sword in her hand should Lara's aim not prove true.

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
Always appreciate a sharp-eyed woman with a direct approach. Illyana does, though it will come later. Her burying the incandescent blade in the spell to drink its power and shatter it pleases her hardly at all, only serving as an end to a means.

Lara splinters the silence. Brunnhilde mows down trouble. Round and round they go.

The sorceress will be there as backup for trouble, her eyes sharp for any emergent seeds or angry golems. Let them be brave and fierce and true. The Demon Queen is satisfied with 'not dead.'

Amanda Sefton has posed:
Pewter is a soft metal, really. And a bullet at close range is a powerful thing. Between Lara's bullets and Brunnhilde's sword, the so-called Eye of Thorak shatters and falls from the iron chain about the pig's neck. He squeals again, scrambling back to defend himself. But too much of his magic has been sunk into the Tower to pull the Seed from its vault.

Blood wells from his snout, coating his tusks. There is a deep roar, but it is not from his throat. Some magic from the circle manages to escape the Soulsword's pull, swirling through the pig's body and spiralling out of the shattered remains of the pendant. It coalesces above them all, like a huge eye surrounded in wings and tentacles that winks out of existence even as lightning crashes mightily against the limestone spires and waves break against the base of the tall pillars.

When the lightning fades, the clouds overhead dissipate. On the shore, atop the promontory, a mighty cheer rises up from furry throats. Their foes can be heard roar fury and fear in equal measure, scrambling back toward the boats that brought them to this place. Their battle is lost. The Champions have clearly taken the day.

"Oh, thank Frith..." Larissa breathes, slumping next to a bleeding Rex and looking out toward the Tower where her Champions stand. "I can't believed that worked."

"You sure know how to pick 'em," the fox grins at the rabbit. "Way to pull a win out of your hat, bunny."

She gently boxes his ears in response.

Lara Croft has posed:
Lara watches as the disc is destroyed, the magic that pours out of it makes her backup several steps as she lowers her rifle down again to look around. Her gaze goes back to the Sorcerer who seemed to be behind all of this and she just softly shook her head.

A moment later and Lara is peering down toward the armies below, her eyes going from the victors toward those fleeing back to their ships at sea. "I don't know how to feel about this." She says to anyone within earshot. "But, it seems like whatever dark magic was pushing this war, has been dealt with?" She asks as she turns back to those she'd come here with. "I would absolutely love a detail explanation...." She says with a quick sigh. "And then... a way back to where I came from, as I was already in something similar to this... though, much less... Pig Men..." That last part is muttered under her weary breath.

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
"Hello, disgusting tentacle-face. Maybe you should know my partner and how he treats such things, da?" Illyana, ever the bright and ruthless spark of truth in the midst of a whirlwind, must be feeling in a somewhat clever mood. She twirls her sword in a trail of fire and then banishes it back whence it came in some psyche-woven hammerspace. The sharp traces of her smirk linger a little longer.

Oh, one day, she'll get you, googly-eyed horror. Yes, she will. She glances askance at Lara and Brunnhilde, then points to the empty space. "We have new friend to smack around, don't you think?"

Brunnhilde has posed:
"I'd like to go back to where I was," Brunnhilde says. "I could use a drink."

She holds the borrowed sword out to Illyana. "Thanks."

Amanda Sefton has posed:
By the time the trio manage to make their way back across to the promontory and the rabbit mage, the forest folk have managed to mop up the stragglers from the pig man's army. They have only begun to gather their wounded and dead, however.

Nevertheless, both Larissa and Rex are effusive in their praise and their thanks. They even promise that, should they be able to return the favour, they will.

In the end, however, the rabbit willingly returns each woman from when she came -- back into the midst of battle, study... and the bar.

Because you should always put things back where you got them. It's only polite.