OOC: It's very hard to write while watching Godzilla, especially when you like doing notes.

Rono slowly made his way, dodging, slashing, and even throwing a few pots that he could grab. "Where to go..." he whispered, as he knocked over another with a well-placed kick. Seeing the crowds, he went along with them, as well as taking out anyone charging at him with a sword. He doubt that whatever safe base the others were going to could hold, though even a few minutes more alive would satisfy him.

He stopped momentarily when a fireball went passed him, into someone's face no doubt. Rono felt that he should make everything on his person magic-proof. That is, if he survived this anyhow.

OOC: I'm assuming it's alright if I control Damocles in my excerpts, seeing as it's more of a story than an RP. I'll let Thai write the next little part of this. Unless someone else butts in with their character.


Damocles held the princess against his person with excessive force. The battle around them was making his blood boil and his senses sharp. Chataigne grumbled to herself as she tried to ease her guard's grasp.

"Damocles, you're hurting my arm! Stop worrying and just get us out of here!" She yelled over the noise. Just then, a guard hailed the two standouts. Damocles immediately recognized their watch's armor suit and dashed toward him. He ran past several burning people and a very surprised man in an illustrious coat and ducked into the shadow filled alleyway. He took a moment to catch his breath and turned to the officer.

"This is no place for royalty, miss." The man spoke. "Please, allow me to escort you away from this barbaric display." He knelt in front of her for a brief moment, before standing up and briskly walking deeper into the darkness. Damocles' eyes narrowed.

"Well, what are we waiting for, Damocles?" Chataigne started after the strange guard, easily slipping out of his grip. He began to speak, but caught himself wondering where this curious man would fancy taking them. His speech was odd enough, most of the guards being illiterate, but nevertheless moderately polite. His skin was fairer than the battle-hardened troops he had previously seen, as well. Mayhap a wolf amongst the sheep.

The entire fair grounds which was usually abuzz with laughter and the smell of food, was filled with screams and the smell of fire, a scene that her father would never expect Abi to have witness. She would have to a bit of explaining when she got home. She paused momentarily when she saw what appeared to be the princess Chataigne, and her rather large babysitter. Her eyes widened in shock, wondering what the princess was doing at such a place. She disappeared into the shadows her babysitter following her, Abi glared resuming her run to nowhere in particular. "Typical royalty" muttered Abi as her orb of glass flew at another soldier's exposed skull causing it to crack sickeningly, making her grimace. "Always have to save themselves first" she hoped that the noblewoman she had met earlier had to find a way to escape all by herself. Abi had never met the princess personally though she had seen her before in the grand chamber with her parents, she seemed stuck up, like every other noble, except herself, of course. She heard the familiar whir of her orb as it resumed it's position above her right shoulder following her like a pet bird.

The smell of burning flesh was becoming overwhelming, it was one of those times that she wanted to cover her nose with one of those fancy handkerchiefs her mother was always telling her to use. She ran in the direction the princess had fled to, if the princess could use a secret entrance of some kind then she was allowed to use one too. She walked over to where she had seen the princess disappear to. Abi then stopped herself, twirling her finger in a circular motion. The orb began to orbit her body rapidly. "Man I wish I brought the others" she murmured to herself, stepping tentatively into the darkness.

Niniva brought up her brown hood of her monk's robe and maneuvered herself along the dispersing crowds. Around her chaos brewed, An assailant emerged from a nearby doorway of a home, covered in blood. Behind him, within the home was a trail of crimson leading towards the bodies of his victims. The assailant, his face masked with clothes, lunged with a feral cry towards her. Gracefully she ducked her upper body and pulled her body aside, the sweeping razor-edge slicing diagonally into the brown of her robes side. Tearing at the material with ease, just missing her flesh. Niniva retaliated with swiftness, her curved under-handed weapon meeting with his abdomen-ripping through his leather vestments and letting loose a splatter of red that stained her brown robe and the the earth. The malicious assailant, in his bloodlust, failed to keep a stable defense. In a cry of death, he fell over, dropping his blood with a clank and landing at her feet.

Stepping over his corpse, She continued and kept herself away from the Lexmadan regiments forming up as well as the carnage around her as best as she could. The port was quite a way from her current position, and armed combatants struck around every corner, the area was quickly turning into a battlezone. Her hazel eyes caught a glimpse at the large knightly looking man and the familiar face of royalty as she paced along the opposite end of the area, just in front of a vacant alley way. Her mind wandered.

If such a noble figure was moving that way, then safety must be that way. On the other hand, she needed to ensure a route to the port. Perhaps she was headed in the direction of the port? a more secure route of passage?

Niniva then turned her head towards the vacant alleyway she stood near. Ill make my way around and follow them through the the back alleys.. she thought to herself, stepping within and making her way around the vicinity in an attempt to get to them through more covert means.

Rono shook his head and went back to finding a safe place. Wait a minute, he thought, seeing a young girl and who appeared to be a sort of bodyguard. Was that royalty? he ran to the dark alleyway that they went into. Might as well stick to the shadows.

She was being wilful again and Damocles wondered where'd she'd lead them next. The last time it happened they were taking a stroll through the Gavaroche countryside only to land in to the middle of a pack of starving wolves. He couldn't blame one single person for her character though. Her tutors had been negligent, her father was always busy overseeing this or that and he himself wasn't much of a role model. His Majesty did take time off for his only child from time to time and he wondered what kind of dialogue happened between them. That was not his concern as they approached the docks.

There was a sand ship there, unsurprisingly smaller than the Khanate one parked outside. It was the Crown Prince of Lexmada's personal sand vessel. As they ran closer, Damocles recognised the insignia of the Royal Guards of Lexmada. There was no mistake, the Crown Prince's intention to flee was a wise decision. Cities could be rebuilt once lost unlike lives. Standing atop the deck in elegant and purely aesthetic clothes was the Crown Prince. A silly puffed up hat rested on his head with a gold scabbard inlaid with jewels at his waist. That's what he disliked about the Lexmadans, their extravagance was to be their undoing.

Had he been able to observe the change in Princess Chataigne's countenance, he would bear witness to an apparently devious smile, but that was not his concern, as the buildings enclosing the open space burst in to flames. A booming yet female voice resounded through the crackling of the blaze. It was that which he feared the most.

"I am here for Her Royal Highness, Princess Chataigne de Gavaroche. You will hand her over to me," the voice started.

Rono sneaked through the alleyways, it wasn't his expertise, but eavesdropping on a few conversations can do wonders in the long run. Thinking about the future, he wondered what's the next plan after escaping, go to Alein for those piles of cr- junk that he wanted a test run? (the shock sword did interest Rono), go do what the mercenaries do and take a job? But he settled on the present, and followed the two.

OOC: Should I believe this is dead? I don' want to keep checking this.

((i hope not, i like it :/ )

((Not dead, more like waiting for people to post in it. People, its up to you to take the initiative!))

Abi raised her hand and the orb stopped and swirled down into her sleeve. She lunged and rolled over to a group of conveniently placed barrels, praying silently that no one would see her as she did. She looked back behind her, nothing but darkness and the faint screams of horror from the chaos which she had managed to escape from. She felt guilty about abandoning the people, but she knew she was not capable of taking on such an army alone.

Abi peered over the barrels, her eyes squinting because of the intensity of the sunlight. A grand sand ship baring the flag of Lexmada, a horrid place where everyone believed themselves to be better than the other, or so she thought, since she noticed that they all dressed like nobles. The prince stood atop the deck, she sighed audibly why did he feel to be dramatic at such a time?

That was when she sensed it, a growing force approaching from the buildings, she quickly decided that she would rather take her chances with the princess's ogre than whatever was happening to the buildings. She ran out from behind the barrels and before anyone could say anything, they burst into flames. She watched the dancing flames in shock, not anticipating the fire at all, nor the voice that came along with it.

"I am here for Her Royal Highness, Princess Chataigne de Gavaroche. You will hand her over to me," the voice started.

Abi stepped away from the buildings slowly, rolling the glass sphere down her sleeve into the palm of her hand, prepared to attack. Her plan to stow away on the prince's ship now long forgotten. She looked towards the sand, and then back towards the fire, she waited patiently for the assailant.

Rono hated fire mages. Actually, it was most mages, yet they were the often seen ones. He would rather face a group of archers, at least they'll give a quick death, than laughing as they engulf you in flames. He stood up, knocked over by the sudden burst of flames from the buildings (or just a dropping reflex, usually fireballs come along with that) and took out the salt, along with a pistol. "As long as it isn't Igneus" he shivered at the name, and focused on the flames and whoever was talking.

((Yay thank you! I tend to wait for two other posts before posting anew. To the others, keep up if you can.))
Multiple other personages were appearing from the flames. These were not enemies, more like little lost lambs about to witness a slaughter. At least that's what Damocles assumed from their stance as they stood facing the same way. As long as they posed no threat to his charge, then they would not die by his hands. The blaze grew in intensity as the structures it was feeding on started to give way. As they did so, the flames parted midway, revealing the culprit and the cohorts of the attack. Eyes narrowed, Damocles inhaled the increasingly dry air and muttered something under his breath. Those that read lips could read his thoughts.

"Mistress of the Summer Blaze."

The dreaded Lady Po of the Jagatai Khanate had many names attributed to her fiery appearance. She was lithe in her equally simple cherry red once piece dress and this allowed her lengthy soot black locks to stand out. A beautiful yet fearsome and cruel foe if ever he had encountered one. There was a long history between them, and as they stared coldly in to each other's eyes, Damocles' sword arm twitched as she brought her hand over her abdomen. It would create an unbelievably complex misunderstanding to those ignorant of their relationship, such as his charge. He'd expect her to come to at least fourteen different conclusions, one of which would be on the mark, but now was not the time talk about such things. He lowered himself to his knee and her eye level.

"My lady, please stay here until I return," he spoke in hushed tones.

Normally, she would protest, but today it seemed that the usual response was not forthcoming. Her lips curled upwards slightly, not enough to arouse suspicion from the veteran warrior however. Shoving his way to the front, he drew his sword. It was a plain short sword as long as his forearm. There were no special decorations nor were there any useless features. This was a practical sword designed for blood letting in the most efficient way possible. The scabbard, equally dull in appearance was discarded in to the sand. The shield on his back came off too as it would hinder his movement. Her cohorts had formed up behind her yet she was willing to engage him alone, a sign of trust that only two eternal enemies such as they would have. From the between the folds of her robe and the lengths of her hair, she produced an bone flute tipped with a golden beak. It was he who was given the first move and he bound forward, ready to cross weapons with her once again.

The princess stood there whilst Damocles strolled over to chat with his long absent love. It was strange that she would appear just as the blaze had taken most of the city. Her eyes widened. Damocles obviously didn't realize that the woman he loved must have been the one to attack the town! She drew her recently reloaded flintlock pistol (when she found the time to do such a thing was a mystery) and aimed it at the fearsome lady's brow.

"You won't take a fool's life this day, mone ami..." She muttered under her breath.

A hand gently set upon the gun and lowered it. "With your experience in firearms, I'd suggest you actually try to hit your vassal. That way, you would have more of a chance to damage the correct target." The Lexmadan messenger grabbed her arm and began rushing her toward the Prince's pod. She understood the haste that this woman had, but could not bare to see her companion engulfed by flame and fury alike. Thinking quickly, she spotted a lone man on the hill. He had numerous pistols strapped to his belt and a sword on one side. His coat was quite peculiar, as well.

"Oi, you there! I command you to aid my ward! See that he doesn't die, will you?" She yelped. Her cries for help may have come off a bit uncaring, but it was plain to see that she really didn't want Damocles dieing in such a horrid way.