The Ranger was fast, but he was also a stationary target. He'd been taking a shot up at the huge, rampaging beast - a desperate, hopeless shot - when the Kroothounds lunged forwards in a frenzy of snapping, barking jaws. He'd only had time to shout half a warning when they hit from the flank, knocking him flat. He couldn't see what happened to the big Reaper. He brought up his rifle desparately, trying to keep the teeth out of his throat. Liriasol kicked, screaming a warcry and ramming the barrel between the jaws, shoving it back hard. His knee connected with the hound's stomach. He couldn't tell if it even hurt the thing - he was too lost in the moment of fighting for survival, adrenaline surging, the blood pounding in his ears.
With a wash of blood the resistance to his rifle was suddenly gone. Liriasol half-fell, half tumbled to his feet, covered in gore, and shoving the carcass off with a final kick. He'd thank his saviour later. He ached, but forced himself to move. More import- "Visethianne, get your group into that group of tents near the gate, hopefully that will throw off any of the Kroot looking for us. Liriasol and Vethellien hold position, we'll come provide covering fire and get those damn Hounds off of you." "At once." Liriasol was already focussing on a shot to the nearest Kroothound. Trying to keep them all in view, intent on getting back to back with the tall Dark Reaper if possible.
<Architect> "Right away!" Yelled the Avenger, sprinting forth against the monster before him like a madman. His left foot came forth in a sweep within the moment of contact, letting him slide between the legs of the oversized carnivore with his blade aimed at its gut. The Knarloc fell dead, stopping at the feet of the Reaper.
<Architect> A spear, swift and silent, found its mark upon the breastbone of a Guardian - the young blonde Anamnialocii, who fell to one knee, seizing the weapon. "Kadeena!" Yelled the Avenger, rushing to her side. "Hold on, you'll-" "I got this," cut the woman. "Captain," she finished, mocking at the title. The Guardian broke the lance.
<Artisan> Zryas-Vehd placed a hand on his chin. "The matters of war are in your hands not in mine, old friend. I am rather concerned that my time is wasted here which I should be spending readying our Exarchs shrine and the Mon'keigh contraptions?" The Artisan rose an eyebrow, certainly unsure what his role was in this endeavor.
<Amriel> He was in his element now, his voice was strong and commanding, as it was when he led his Corsairs for the Vent. "Minna! Keep moving as fast as you can, but loop around the host as much as possible, hopefully we can shield them from some nastier things." The Shuriken Cannon on top of the Vyper was a constant blaze of light as the Corsair vented his fury at the savages, they were dropping by the dozen. <Cair> The Reaper used the Knarloc's body to gain a higher vantage point on the situation, his Launcher constantly spitting out micro-missiles at the surrounding Kroot.
<Architect> "Amriel, we are delayed, we have a wounded warrior here. Can you-" the Avenger's voice was cut as a pack of hounds charged their way. He reached for his shuriken pistol and shot the nearest one. "We need an evac route cleared, we can't hold for long!" Meanwhile, the Guardian breathed calmly with a devious smirk. She couldn't raise her catapult with the collarbone broken and rendering her arm useless. Blood spattered out of her in bursts.
<Farseer Aranethyr> "I called upon you to set up a new form of command aboard the Anam, Zryas - a council of free Eldar. You, the captain, our Exarch and myself. My foresight, your insight, the captain's guidance and the Exarch's military experience... What do you think?"
<Artisan> "Troublesome." Zryas-Vehd sighed deeply and rubbed his forehead. "Can't we just nominate someone as Autarch and let my old bones just work on Vauls duty?" He shook his head slowly. "But since I know you will bother me until I agree, old friend, I shall accept. Though do not demand too much of me! I came here to perform artisanship, not to command or advise on combat."
<Farseer Aranethyr> "In your own words - you also came here to... 'talk some sense into these old bones when my senility shows up'." The Seer quirked an eyebrow, the captain cleared her throat to conceal a chuckle. "You may go friend. I promise not to bother you more than needed."
